It was bound to happen. With country music—or at least the watered-down, line-dancing, shill-for-Bush version of it—all over the airwaves, and hip-hop lazily approaching its second decade as the adopted culture of choice in America’s trailer parks, it was only a matter of time before some brave innovator/madman decided to cross the music industry’s last great culture line. There have been a few pioneers—The Grid’s annoying 1994 banjo-sampling techno single “Swamp Thing”, Eminem’s freestyle over “Sweet Home Alabama” in 8 Mile, maybe even 1985’s “The Rappin’ Duke.” (Also—full disclosure here—my own band has been known to do a dastardly country cover of “Baby Got Back”.) The concept of hillbilly-fied versions of non-country songs is nothing new. (Just check out Hayseed Dixie, or Luther Wright and the Wrongs.) And lest we forget Bubba Sparxxx, or, most recently, Cowboy Troy. (For even more on the history of country/rap crossovers, click here.)

            But to take traditional country songs and drop them like so much twangy street science into a booty-bass-heavy breakbeat, well, to my knowledge, B-Star (formerly known as Battlestar America) are one of the first to do this—and that alone seems to have bought them a certain level of press attention. A gimmick never hurts, particularly in the Cutthroat Island of New York’s music scene. But anyone who plays that game runs the risk of being “the last big thing”, or, even worse, confined to the shelf of “novelty acts”. I’ve yet to catch them live (a kiss of death for even the most seasoned rap acts), but on record, this multicultural septet of high-minded beatnecks sounds like they could have staying power. Beyond the obligatory hip-hop beats (provided all-the-way live via Danny Miami), Dolio the Sleuth’s neurotically scratched turntables and Michi Wiancko’s wicked fiddle weave an unorthodox cacophony, grounded by beautifully rolling basslines from a man named Goat. Lead singer/MCs Veronica and Rench rap with a slow drawl that drifts somewhere in the strange, lonesome place between a Cypress Hill house party and the cattle auction at a county fair. Lest anyone laugh too long, B-Star laces their rhymes—and their Web site—with a heavy dose of lefty politics. It’s not your mama’s country… or your daddy’s hip-hop, but for those who dream of what vivid gray areas might lie between, it’s a damn good time.

Band review by Uncle Leon.

Download a sample of "I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow" (mp3 file, 1.3 MB)

Contact: 718-965-3771 or E-mail B-Star

Visit B-Star at www.battlestaramerica.com

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