Most rap music leaves me cold. One reason is that, as a 42-year-old white Canadian male, I am culturally predisposed to dislike it. Another is that a lot of rap is crap: monotonous, rhythmically and melodically sterile, and full of violent, misogynistic, homophobic posturing.

Of course that's the kind of thing white people said about "race music" before blues pioneers such as Robert Johnson were safely dead and thus eligible for musical canonization. But when it's done well, by truly creative artists, rap has an undeniable power and a unique vibe -- it's the language and rhythm of the streets, distilled and blended until it becomes Art.

My first reaction to Japanese rap was negative. At least American rap, even if a lot of it was mindless rubbish, was the real thing. Most Japanese homeboys are just boys who have to be home on time for okasan to serve them dinner.

But in the last few years something very interesting has happened on the Japanese rap scene that has blown away a lot of my prejudices. Japanese musicians have adapted the rap style and made it their own, so that some of the most creative and original music being made here now falls under the rap/hip-hop heading.

One of the first signs that rap was breaking through into the Japanese mainstream was the hit single "Da Yo Ne" by East End X Yuri in 1995, which spawned a series of versions in local dialects. It was lighthearted stuff, worlds away from American rap's harsh depictions of ghetto life (as exemplified by charming song titles such as "Bitch Better Have My Money" by DJ Clue), but it showed that the Japanese love of wordplay had found a new outlet in the rap idiom.

You could say rap really took off in Japan in 1999, with the incredible success of Dragon Ash's rock/rap hit "I Love Hip-Hop," a reworking of the Jake Hooker/ Alan Merrill tune, "I Love Rock 'n' Roll." On the DJ front, artists such as New York-based DJ Honda (best known through the spiky "h" logo on caps, T-shirts, etc.) proved that Japanese turntablists could spin platters with the best of them.

Another crucial factor in the evolution of J-rap has been that the music wasn't just popular in metropolitan centers. In Sapporo, for example, a two-man unit called Tha Blue Harb has been making some of the nation's darkest, coolest rap -- their specialty being austere, beautiful soundscapes it's tempting to think are inspired by Hokkaido's subarctic ambience.

Adding a reggae vibe to rap music has proven to be a winning formula for rap outfit Ketsumeishi, who have swiftly developed into a very hot act over the last few months. It didn't hurt that three tracks by the band were used as theme songs for Toyota's Gazoo.com online shopping mall. That helped their first three singles achieve total sales of around 100,000 units -- amazing for a band still on an indie label.

Last year, Universal Music K.K., confident that rap's popularity in Japan is no passing fad, set up the Def Jam Japan label -- the first rap/hip-hop specialty imprint from a major Japanese record company. "Rap and hip-hop have become a natural part of the Japanese music scene," declares Kazu Koike, general manager the company's Universal International division.

The first Japanese act signed to Def Jam Japan was Nitro Microphone Underground, a seven-member rap group from Tokyo, and on June 13 NMU lead vocalist DABO released a brilliant solo album, "Platinum Tongue," that proves (if there are any doubters left) that J-rap is world class. Various Japanese DJs produce individual tracks on "Platinum Tongue," which comprises hardcore cuts such as the title track, more soulful stuff like "Pinky -- Dakara, Sono Te o Hanashite" (featuring Japanese R&B singer Tyler) and deep chill-out stuff such as the superlative closer, "Zero (Mukasee Mukasee Mix)."

In Japanese rap's continuing evolution, too, local DJs are now starting to create their own beats -- something that stateside DJs don't generally do. As for the lyrics, DABO's are full of romantic sentiment, which sounds kind of odd coming from a guy with such a gruff, deep voice.

"You can get the real flavor of Japan listening to Japanese hip-hop artists," says Riko Sakurai, a rap/hip-hop radio personality, and now an executive at Def Jam Japan. "Japanese rappers' lyrics are about living their lifestyle."

And that's what popular culture is all about: art by the people, of the people, for the people.