Don't stop till you get enough. The prolific Exene Cervenka, frontwoman of Los Angeles' seminal punk band X, has a new band, the Original Sinners, with two ex-Distillers members Mat Young and Kim Chi, and Sam Soto and Jason Edge. Who wouldn't be giddy that such a band exists?

The other day, a friend asked me what I thought of the Original Sinners debut album. I said, "They sound like X! It's great!" But after a few listens, I realized the album doesn't sound like X, and it doesn't knock me on my duff. My folly was hearing sexy, strident Exene Cervenka and nothing else. Not one iota of thrill has been lost since her X days. Her crooning brims with yearning and tragedy, and it's easy to get caught in the spirals of her harmonies. Whether she's wailing at her lover's shadow on "Who's Laughing Now" and "Bringing Me Down," or singing "I need a little bartenderness," on the down-home-drunk track "Whiskey For Supper," Exene ladles the charm right in your lap. But the music – punk tinged with country and rattling surf-rock -- doesn't have any remarkable hooks. Original Sinners is not a dud, but nothing got planted in my ears besides Ms. Cervenka. You'll hum along with her vocals (notably on "Aluminum Flavored Honey"), slap your knee a few times, and then maybe pick your nose.

Northern State and Opti-Grab at the Mercury Lounge, August 27, 2002

And you thought Run-DMC was the only groundbreaking hip-hop trio to come out of New York? Oh dear. It's time to let Opti-Grab raise a little hell in this city. I walked into the Mercury Lounge to a room full of party peeps. Opti-Grab – two fellas and a honey – were rapping white-ghetto-glam over funky beats and dancing like extras in a Biggie Smalls video. Think the Moldy Peaches meet Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. One fella wore a too-small black fedora with a feather and fingerless leather gloves and the other fella, the DJ, was in full Boy Scout garb. The Boy Scout was hitting glass-shattering high notes and making the crowd squeal. The only things he was missing were some Jheri curls and a sparkly glove on his hand. The honey had a smoky voice, almost exactly like Gabby Glaser of Luscious Jackson. Opti-Grab's synchronized dance routines were pure gems, and their tongue-in-cheek humor incited riotous laughter and hooting from the crowd. Opti-Grab is so much fun, I'm going to have them play at both my birthday party and my funeral.

But the stars of the evening were three young women from Long Island who call themselves Northern State. The Village Voice has a major hard-on for these ladies, and after witnessing them live, I'm pretty damn stiff meself. Normally, the phrases "white women rappers" and "novelty act" go together. But Hesta Prynn (Julie Potash), DJ Sprout (Robyn Goodmark), and – God, how I love this name – Guinea Love (Correne Spero) write smart, female-centric rhymes for a starving rhythm nation, and they do it with lots of heart. No lilting voices, no mention of how many Bentleys they own, no waiting on their men to call them back. These are tough cuties who don't hide their Long Island attributes behind a forced gang-banger veil. They are who they are – socially conscious white rapper ladies from lawng-eyelind.

Northern State started their set by dividing the crowd so they could do a call-and-response routine. Hesta's high-pitched voice pinched more than a few eardrums in the crowd, and I'll admit, listening to their hip-hop lingo was a bit weird. Imagine the Donnas proclaiming "I am not a Beastie Boy! I am not my boyfriend's toy!" to the throb of a streetwise pulse a la Boogie Down Productions. Backed by a drummer and a bass player, the girls were a bit stiff at first, reciting their lines, and playing the part. But it didn't take long for Northern State to loosen up and generate copious amounts of steam with their clever, rugged, jaw-dropping rhymes. They rap about the Trinity, shout "Talk to the fist 'cause the hand is pissed," and drop names like Alex P. Keaton and "wubba-wubba-wubba" Julie Brown. Guinea Love took delight in head-banging her long, curly hair to the rock-steady beats, and soon she, DJ Sprout, and Hesta Prynn took turns flossing their dance moves. The crowd, which included MTV VJ Sway and Heather B. from the first season of the "Real World," was beside itself, screaming, cheering, and dancing freely. It was impossible to curb the enthusiasm, especially when Northern State gave a shout-out to "Beverly Hills, 90210." This trio can surely "break that shit up like Brenda and Dylan."