Pop Will Eat Itself: Cure for Sanity; Malcolm McLaren: Round the Outside! Round the Outside!

EVER SINCE the Who and the Stones, if not the Revolutionary War, uppity British ironists have made a habit of "elevating" vulgar American pop crazes into high concept. This can get annoying, especially since their disco singers usually stink and their bratty young upstarts are always straining too hard. But when sounds on these shores get too sure of themselves, as house music and rap have done lately, limeys with tongues in cheeks can serve as bridges to some higher plane.