This is Saul

Between the tinny acoustics, dwarf-sized stage and crowds walking in and out, Virgin Megastore in Union Square is one of the worst places to play a show in New York. But a great performer can make a connection under any circumstances, and that's exactly what Saul Williams did at his free show yesterday.

Williams blends the poet/songwriter tag more than any prominent artist since Patti Smith, but there's little in popular music to compare his style to. His vocal lines are too haphazard and verbose to captivate a casual listener, and his beats (produced by Trent Reznor on Saul's latest, The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of Niggy Tardust) are more industrial than hip-hop. But attentive listeners will be gratified by Niggy Tardust, and there's no way to turn a deaf ear to one of Williams' incendiary performances.

Looking somewhat like American Indians re-imagined by Sun Ra's Arkestra, a keyboardist, guitarist and soundboard guy took the stage with a rousing cacophony of noise rock, until Williams appeared, sporting war paint and a Mohawk. The frenetic music underscored the urgency in Williams' lyrics. "You want to blame it on the government/On why you got no money for your rent?"yelled Williams in the Public Enemy-sampling "Tr(n)igger." "The trigger is you, the nigger is you/So what you gonna do," stated the chorus, urging disheartened listeners into action.

Williams' rapping is most effective lyrically. He may be unable to drop a hook like Zack de la Rocha or M.I.A., but he's more articulate than either of them, as well as most of today's popular MCs. His approach is always socially aware and never nihilistic, a voice that strikes terror into the hearts of bureaucrats who suppress their fears that Williams could be right. It's the same logic that makes Chuck D a scarier and more compelling MC than Scarface.



Williams' best chorus came on a cover of U2's "Sunday Bloody Sunday," which sounded as fresh as it probably did when Bono was barely a dent in America's consciousness. The verses took Williams through the crowd and out the front door while his band sprung around and chanted the backup vocals. But they never lost control of their instruments, prodding their frontman to a new energy level with the "I Wanna Be Your Dog"-biting "List of Demands" and "Gunshots by Computer," an enthralling call-to-arms that remixes Nine Inch Nails and would've sounded great on Year Zero.

The evening's most somber moment was "Black Stacey," with a reggae-tinged beat and a jazz-inspired drum beat that complemented tales of a boy's search for identity. Later, "Convict Colony" shook with an aggressive, Ministry-esque beat that wrapped around Williams's tirade on incarceration, establishing Williams and the band as one of the best industrial acts in the world. The versatile, multilayered music on Niggy Tardust makes this the first Williams record where his tracks are exciting enough to ride with his lyrics. But the ideal way to experience Niggy Tardust is to catch Williams and his band on the road.

In the evening's only conventional moment, the bandleader asked the crowd how they were holding up. Apparently, Williams was so caught up in the show that he missed the roomful of kids dancing and singing along, but he made the fans confirm that they were not too "cool" to engage in the performance. "Fuck your cool," Williams drove the point home. "Your cool won't free you."