Last of the Great 20th Century Composers

Last of the Great 20th Century Composers comes with a fascinating back story. In the "Porn Wars of 2113," New York City is destroyed. Centuries later archaeologists discover beneath the rubble and ruin a mysterious cylindrical artifact containing recordings from an artist known only as Princess Superstar. The archaeologists carbon-date the recordings to the end of the 20th millennium, and thus the artist thenceforth mythically comes to be considered "the last of the great twentieth century composers." As such a wildly creative premise suggests, Princess Superstar literally sweats urban creativity, and never more so than on her third full-length. As on her previous efforts, the album knows no bounds and uncoils in every conceivable direction, down every dark alley and into every nightscape the city has to offer. The brilliant syncopated electro-rock of "Do It Like a Robot" is the best kind of mechanical rump shaking. Jon Spencer later turns the same song into deconstructed avant-rock sludge-boogie via a remix, and it almost sounds like a different song, but it also gives one clue as to the limitless range and skill of Concetta Kirshner. The Beastie Boys-like hardcore punk workout "Sex (I Like)" takes that skill to one extreme, and "I Hope I Sell a Lot of Records at Christmastime" — the best hip-hop holiday cut since Run-D.M.C.'s "Christmas in Hollis" and maybe the most relevant spin on modern Christmas season sensibilities yet — pushes it to the other. Besides being sharp-eyed and tart-tongued, Kirshner is terribly intelligent, twisting every conceivable sonic touchstone, personal insight, play on words, double entendre, and pop cultural reference into brilliantly fun concept-hop-urban music of the most progressive type. "Meet You Halfway (Keep It on the Alright)" is aeronautically funky abstract hip-hop that is a good three or four steps ahead of everyone else in the underground hip-hop community with the exception of visionaries such as Prince Paul and Kool Keith (who both, tellingly, contribute to the album, the latter on "Kool Keith's Ass"). And yet it is also completely grounded in the call-and-response quality of old-school crews. Kirshner's offbeat flow on songs such as the hyper party-funk house of "NYC C**t" and the grimy, low-down groove of "Year Two Thousand" is light years more interesting than conventional beat rocking. A healthy portion of the album is crass and occasionally tasteless (the porn-hop of "Come up to My Room," featuring Baron Ricks, for instance), but that is half of the fun, and Kirshner is such a clever and inventive lyricist that the stream of potty-mouthed diatribes that emanate from her imagination are easy to swallow and even easier to love. Last of the Great 20th Century Composers is, in a few simple words, pure warped genius.