A moment ago, a steady thumping could be heard coming from my colleague Charles Mudede's cubicle. Not music, but a flat, fleshy thwap repeating at an urgent tempo. Nervously, I poked my head over the cubicle's edge. There was Charles, bobbing his head and stomping both feet on the ground to an invisible beat in his headphones. "You caught me jamming," he said. "That's embarrassing."
The source of his jamming and his embarrassment? "Welsh dub." Of course: