Woebot and Practice Hours 2. If this comes out soon enough, they can just keep running the Practice Hours advert on Rinse that's been on there for about 24 months now. Although that tape must get worn out soon, surely?

Sunday morning, the sun is coming in through the windows, and I'm listening to Tir Na Nog. Idyllic.

Why Footsie hasn't yet done a rhyme about the FTSE index is beyond me. Perhaps it's beyond him, I dunno.

Sway's released a tune called "Little Derek". Semtex can claim he's gonna blow up to he's blue in the face, but how he's gonna be the big man on the street with the name like Derek, honestly? Also on a not-quite grimey tip, that Lady Soverign hoody track sounds about as tough as the Spice Girls.

Not much I feel like writing about at the moment for some reason, although there's some very good music about. Wooden Wand, Thuja and Samara Lubleski are floating my boat just fine.

There have been quite a few MCs this year who haven't really fulfilled the promise of early releases/radio sets- perhaps they're doing albums, mixtapes whatever- but L Man, Doctor and Faction G somehow didn't really bring much "different" to the game. Strong but somehow rigid styles (and they didn't use the word "different" either, which was a shame). But but but! L Man's freestyle on Semtex's show is absolutely off the richter, go and check it. In fact I had the first moment in ages of lyrical-bewliderment-followed-by-sublime-clarity in response to the lyric "I'm not A-B-C-D-E-F-G I'm H-I-J-K-L that's me". "Wha, what the hell are you on about... ah right!"

Brief thoughts on hyper-sexuality in pop. Now, I love Missy Elliot's 1 Minute Man and other gems of proto-porno hop as much as anyone, but somehow with hip hop it seems to have reached a desparately limp dead end with Candy Shop and Don't Cha. But somehow they are profoundly stodgy, unmoving- 50 Cent raps like he's too busy getting head to form the words properly; Pussycat Dolls are as sexy on stage as six two by fours. I'm sure there'll be some cracking tracks of this ilk soon, but I've been prompted to muse on it by grime's refreshing lack of hyper-sexuality (who gets closest to pimp-talk? Wiley talking about shagging some girl, "move the thong to the side" while her boyfriend is trying to call?). The reason grime doesn't force sexuality in the face is because MCs are generally only on the mic quickly, for 21 seconds or whatever, they have to get in and get out and can't lounge around like Snoop Dog. And this play between absence and presence on the mic is one of the best things about grime, in contrast to almost all other pop music where the "presence" of the star is a given, secured, fetishised. In fact with current hip hop / celebrity / bling culture, the star has won a total victory where culture keeps them squarely secure in their place on the microphone. I just wonder- could pop be somehow sexier if sex wasn't on display in this way, like a prostitute in an Amsterdam window?

Woebot returns

Ruff Squad at the Whitechapel Gallery. This was in a really small venue, essentially the cafe of the Whitechapel Gallery; the sedate atmosphere was added to by trays of wine glasses, laid out like at a book launch or something. Nice polished wooden floors; this was more like the flats I've been looking at recently than a grime venue. As you came back from the toilet, you had to dodge around the decks. I'm surprised there weren't any accidental reloads.

So, it was weird to start with, sipping drinks while Prancehall went through his dubs, which was a pretty excellent selection- mostly tough vocals with the odd instrumental. Good to hear Trim and Scratch on a big-ish system- those 16-bit synths sound great (the phrase "credit inserted- 1 player!" always enters my head when I hear them). Then Bun U said a few words, which sounded kind of weird, but it would have been even weirder if Ruff Squad just walked on stage. Then Ruff Squad came on, loads of them, introduce themselves and then get into it fine style. They turn it on like a switch has just been flicked. Ruff Squad are tight knit, finishing each other's lines and rapping to each other, and there's a nice dialectic between the crew and the crowd, which are of roughly the same size. On the DVD of Practice Hours, Ruff Squad seemed to look quite interchangeable, leaning against a three foot wall in similar arms folded poses, and this unit-ness comes across well here. However, it's not a solidarity that is purely militaristic, it's got a brotherly vibe about it too, not least when Roachee from Roll Deep does his All Day Long lyric and there's two reloads and arms round shoulders. Excellent, excellent performance, and the crowd goes bonkers even though it doesn't really feel like the time or place.

Thing is, what with all the beef (or rumoured beef) which keeps getting grime events cancelled, at least this is neutral territory. One of Ruff Squad sent a shout out to a girl at the back of the room, who was standing on a chair to watch- it seemed rather odd but nice nonetheless, and gentlemanly. Thing is, this space was a a bit sterile, a bit sexless, but when it's filled with good energy, it suddenly becomes all good.

"I know a few men who are wasteman, I know a few girls who are wasteman, couple of them are safe man, but other than that they're all wasteman"- Dizzee Rascal. You can listen to the Dirty Stank tour in Nottingham on the 1xtra site, and it's pretty good stuff. Check it for Semtex's opening set, which is good. Dizzee Rascal's set is pretty cool, not sure about the new stuff yet- the lyrics are as precise as usual, but sometimes it can be a little insular, hostile, almost Phillip Larkin-esque, not quite enough variation in tone or subtlety, too much of a rant maybe.

After Wiley's re-ply to Dizzee on the latter's Hype Thing rhythm, Wiley's sent another one back to Dizzee on "Flying", joined by Mercston on vocals. It's on True Tiger, according to the tracklisting on logansama.blogspot.com. "you can say that I'm a fool, you can say I'm a mug, you can say that I'm whatever you heard on a dub...". Even when Wiley's funny, it's always serious (and vice versa). It's better than Kano's versions of Jamrock and Ghetto Cayote on his Beats and Bars mixtapes, which are uncharacteristically full of limp lines- "I'm connected like BT". Hey, you know Jamrock is based on an Ini Kamoze track called World-A-Music, a Sly And Robbie production? Just thought I'd mention it.

Straight Outta Bethnal goes straight inna Hoxton on 18th November @ 333, Old Street, featuring Jammer & Ears, JME & Skepta, Logan, Bruza. Hold tight all the big crews in the game, who won't be able to fit through the tiny warren of corridors at 333.

"Playa hate me- on what grounds?"- Dizzee Rascal

This Offcom list of fugitive pirate radio stations sounds mouth-watering! Apparently these's an African station in Wood Green, and "SLR FM" sounds like a pretty uncompromising station. Wow. Offcom- your chest!

I was playing We Are Back by LFO the other day. I think that might be one of the greatest electronic tracks ever. The major key feel to the melody has a certain nonchalence about it- "we can twist any sound into something beautifully modernistic". But the vocoder sample is absolutely massive, crushing everything in the mix underneath it's broadband distortion. It's like being hunted by storm troopers while one those little wheely-robots they have on the Death Star twirls joyfully around their legs. More importantly, the moment where the beat drops out before the chorus you're left with echoes of synth and sub bass (half of it is perhaps just the residual vibrations the record player), it's like they've removed the bonnet of the entire track to show you the detail underneath. All the gears of the engine free-wheel to a stop, and you become aware of how tightly the whole machine meshes together.

Plasticman's remix of Late Night Request Line is the business. His technique is so simple innit- remixing by getting a steel-framed rhythm, and nailing the melody to it with metal rivets. An implaccable metal-on-metal Kraftwerkian stomp that is Ralf Hutter's current ringtone.

There's only one place to be tommorow- and that's a poncy arts gallery for some bad-assed grime action. Ruff Squad rock the Whitechapel Gallery, with Prancehall on the decks and Bun-U taking care of business. I'll be there.

Again, sorry for not posting much here. Moving house. Proper middle class business- today I was listening to Animal Collective, exploring options for eco-friendly dual-fuel providers. Talking of AC, their London gig for me was slightly underwhelming, a feeling accentuated by the legions of people at the Scala going absolutely ape-crazy on all fours for them. Two many two chord jams, and the vocals always squeaking through the same cutesy mannerisms. Really, it was like the Beach Boys through a massive echo pedal, and no matter how much I like I Can Hear Music, the Beach Boys have always felt a rather plain flavour of transcendence to me, not enough contrasts, no sweet and sours. After 90 minutes of echo and yelp, I'd had more than enough of AC, and left during the interminable encores.