Sam Cowley is a rude, rude man. And far too cool for this being-on-the-internet business. Mr. Spencer has asked for my services in this navel-gazing, 30 days of pretentiousness… I joke, I love it really. How could I not? So my favourite song, eh? I will have to go for Roots Manuva’s Witness. For several reasons which I will elaborate on… …Right now. I love a lot about this song. But I warn you, it may get a little Sociology. First off, it is from without doubt the best British hip hop album of all time (Run Come Save Me). I would say there are all sorts of of amazing British hip hop artists, mixtapes etc, but this is one of the few albums which works as a whole. Second, I think the bassline is ridiculously iconic. All it takes is for a DJ to drop the first half-second of the beat over the end of another song to get me outrageously aroused. Bloody cockteases. Seriously, see it live if you can… jizztastic. It is so different; robot diarrhea if ever I heard it. Third, I think it typifies everything Britishness should be. Forget* Griffin and the rest, with their archaic nursery-rhyme idea of national identity. Apart from the mix of cultural references (cheese on toast, jerk fish, pints of bitter) there is just the spirit of the thing, glorying in a diversity of origins, boastful in the most understated way. Even the opting for low key language only adds more power We don’t give a frigg** about what them fools thinkFrigg your network, our debt work will speak for itself. It makes me proud to come from this bloody bloody country. And as a typical Sociology type, I think that says a lot. *Oh, Mr. Cowley, with your politicised swears! Tut tut. I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen, I warned you he was rude.**Oh, Sam, why can’t you be more like your Mr Manuva, with his polite non-swears?