Dizzee Rascal, who in 2003 carried off the Mercury music prize, recently told Newsnight's Jeremy Paxman he was thinking of running for prime minister. He seems to be working out his policies: his Jezebel responds to the new prostitution laws with a harrowing tale of a girl's descent, while Road Rage suggests a radical solution for problem drivers: "Put 'em in an early grave."

This manifesto may be a bit too edgy for middle England, but Mr Rascal certainly has the youth vote. Like Barack Obama, the artist most known for grime has recognised the popular appeal of old school hip-hop. Tonight, there is a DJ and decks, requests to "make some noise", and a dedication to "the sexy laydeez"; plus he manages to pack the broadcast into an hour.

The Rascal has widened his tack since his Boy in Da Corner debut marked him out as a true voice of the underclass. He is less likely to rap about unwanted pregnancies as deliver Dance Wiv Me, the recent No 1 in which he not-so- politely suggests a man hold his drink while he whisks off his girlfriend.

However, the 23-year-old is still unpredictable, freestyling over the Clash's Straight to Hell and delivering the brilliant new Bonkers, which suggests his next move will be into rave. Even when rapping at blistering pace over beats that sound like heavy machinery, he speaks a language young people understand. "Oggy, oggy, oggy!" he cries. "Oi, oi, oi!" respond the crowd. "That's what I'm talking about," smiles Mr Rascal. Brown and Cameron, you have a problem.