PERFORMING ARTS

X-Ecutioners and Northern State

In a genre crammed with copycats, a legit pair of hip-hop aberrations played the 9:30 club Saturday. Labelmates X-Ecutioners and Northern State are both trios hailing from the Big Apple, but they're unlike any act signed to a major label. The X-Ecutioners are the sole hip-hop DJ troupe inked to a big-time record conglomerate, and Northern State is one of the only white female rap groups ever to land a major-label deal (both reside at Columbia Records).

First up was Northern State, a threesome of MCs spouting retro rhymes and corny choruses recalling the Beastie Boys after multiple estrogen injections. Their debut Columbia-label CD isn't due until August, but they've amassed loads of buzz and impressive collaborators for the full-length disc, including Cypress Hill's DJ Muggs. Bolstered by a live band, the brainy ladies pranced about and clearly were having a blast, twirling around with some decidedly hokey but hilarious dance moves. "Northern State put the cart before the horse," rapped DJ Sprout on "Dying in Stereo." "We be who we are and show no remorse."

The X-Ecutioners followed and slammed the stage with six turntables and some of the most fantastically intricate and rhythmic scratching you'll ever come across. Utilizing vinyl only (many turntablists prefer the convenience of CDs), Total Eclipse spun "Walk This Way" and ferociously dissected Joe Perry's signature guitars to create a feverish new beat all his own. "We use the turntable as a musical instrument," X-Ecutioner Rob Swift announced from atop the decks. "This is our band."

-- Craig Smith

Tony Rice Unit

Guitar virtuoso Tony Rice joked about all the pickers who'd turned out to see his quartet at the Birchmere on Saturday night, and the possibility that someone might record and bootleg the performance. "Five minutes from now it will end up on a computer in Russia -- with all the mistakes!" he predicted.

The "mistakes," it turned out, were little wrinkles in a concert that showcased Rice's extraordinary flat-pick technique. He covered a lot of territory, paying homage to his late role model Clarence White with a freshly arranged version of "I Am a Pilgrim," fashioning a haunting rendition of "Shenandoah" with the help of fiddler Rickie Simpkins, and imaginatively embellishing "Summertime."

Always a reluctant vocalist, Rice recruited former Seldom Scene member John Starling to add his soulful voice to a couple of vintage ballads, beginning with "Dark Holler." It's no small feat to move from old-timey tunes and bluegrass to New Grass and dashing jazz chromaticism, especially when the task is accomplished with such remarkable precision and fluidity, but Rice made it seem as natural as breathing.

He wasn't always in the spotlight, though. His younger brother Wyatt, who wields a flat pick with similar assurance, never sounded better than when exploring the tricky contours of "Crazy Creek." In addition to his brief stints on fiddle, Simpkins played mandolin, alternating chopping rhythms with sparkling solos that dovetailed with Rice's improvisations before introducing new melodic tacks and tangents. Rounding out the Unit and nimbly underscoring its affection for jazz was upright bassist Bryn Bright.

-- Mike Joyce

NSO, Choral Arts Society

Guest conductor Jose Serebrier wasted no time leading the National Symphony Orchestra and Choral Arts Society of Washington at Wolf Trap on Friday evening. As soon as he planted his feet on the Filene Center's podium, he commenced an enthusiastic, exuberant performance featuring Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 and Borodin's "Polovtsian Dances" from "Prince Igor."

Throughout the evening, both groups sounded vibrant -- the chorus enunciating with crisp articulation, the NSO playing with measured attacks. They swelled fortes majestically and sustained pianissimos with an iridescent glow.

Allowing only the slightest pauses between Borodin's four sections, Serebrier urged on the languid dances and inspired an especially vehement third dance, with the orchestra and 200 voices in full thrall. As if suddenly aware of his haste, Serebrier took the devilish fourth dance at a surprisingly stately tempo, emphasizing the choral parts.

Intermission tamed Serebrier's impetuosity in time for Beethoven. The NSO's subdued statements and delineated dynamics lingered and yet propelled the symphony toward the familiar "Ode to Joy" finale. And it was jubilant indeed. From the melody's sneaky introduction in the low strings to its glorious reprises in the ringing voices of the chorus and the quartet of soloists (soprano Barbara Quintiliani, mezzo Stacey Rishoi, tenor Israel Lozano, bass Morris Robinson), the fourth movement unfolded like a sunrise.

Robinson, whose tone had an energetic sheen, was the standout.