It was a Trojan Horse in the shape of a blue ghost and dancing gorillas. Consider this premise: You are 10 years old and you have one of those friends who has older, cooler, brothers who turn them on to music when they’re young (and, maybe, other things too soon). Some recommendations trickle down and the two of you end up on a computer with dial-up internet trying to access the video for a song called “Clint Eastwood” before the age of YouTube. You just started watching some of those old Eastwood movies. It’s cool there’s a song called that, and it’s cool that the video features all these vibrant cartoons, and it’s cool that it’s a rap song that lurches and snaps and makes you think you like rap music when you live in a town where you’re far likelier to hear nu-metal and soft rock on any given radio station. That video, if you were a kid who was just barely starting to explore and figure out what you like, was revelatory.