Gangsta Rap

Your comparisons are out of whack in “Rap Furor: New Evil or Old Story?” (Aug. 5). Shame on you for comparing rap sounds with Frank Sinatra and Elvis. Sinatra, a legitimate singer, smiled and young girls swooned when he sang words of love from the pens of Cole Porter, Jerome Kern and George and Ira Gershwin. Rappers, among them thugs and felons, scowl to a tuneless beat when they spit out words of anger from poison pens that all but sanction killing and abuse of females.

Elvis may have swung his hips when he belted out tunes such as “You Ain’t Nothing But a Hound Dog,” but the lyrics weren’t intended to incite violence. And you actually believe that “ . . . much of the tumult likely will appear overblown and paranoid in hindsight, given that even the most scandalous artists tend to mellow into nostalgic respectability over time”? I always thought it was good taste that didn’t go out of style.

C’mon, it’s time for you to stop defending rap, giving it legitimacy on your pages. It’s time instead to discourage its proliferation and discontinue the glorification of its purveyors.

NORMAN JACOBSON

Los Angeles