PERFORMING ARTS

The Last Poets

There isn't a more crucial strand of hip-hop DNA than the Last Poets.

The spoken-word troupe emerged from Harlem in the late '60s, reciting thunderous poetry over minimal hand-percussion in an effort to enact social change -- and planted the seeds of rap music in the process.

Core members Umar Bin Hassan, Abiodun Oyewole and drummer Don "Babatunde" Eaton delivered a riveting program Tuesday at the National Museum of Natural History's Baird Auditorium. Oyewole thanked the Smithsonian for hosting the event, but Bin Hassan was quick to interject: "This is where they hang relics! Don't be too happy to be here!"

The Last Poets are older than old-school, but their words sounded as timely as ever. They updated some of their most popular and controversial poems for the terror age, mingling images of the civil rights movement with post-9/11 paranoia and the war in Iraq.

Babatunde, who tapped out a serviceable beat at times, broke out into a dizzying turbulence with "This Is Madness." Over the frenetic beat, Bin Hassan declared, "All of my dreams have turned into psychedelic nightmares." The ghosts of H. Rap Brown, Malcolm X, John Coltrane -- even Bin Hassan's parents -- came swarming into the piece, the poet's impassioned shouts distorting over the auditorium speakers. The piece came to a thrilling crescendo with Bin Hassan and Oyewole screaming, "Please stop all this madness!" The madness they speak of might never end, and let's hope the Last Poets' legacy lasts just as long.

-- Chris Richards

Emily Haines

Emily Haines certainly benefited from the 9:30 club's rare configuration as a seated venue on Wednesday night. The Toronto singer's hushed, pensive songs -- a far cry from her energetic indie-rock band Metric -- required the silent focus forced by such an arrangement.

Throughout Haines's hour-long set, her brooding delivery made her sound constantly lost in thought, and songs such as the slow, reflective "Nothing & Nowhere" would have been disrupted by the slightest chatter. Her raspy voice only added to that effect, with the smoky, just-woke-up feel on the show-opening "Our Hell" and "Doctor Blind." On the trancelike "Crowd Surf Off a Cliff," her hoarseness turned her measured statement of "I wake up lonely" into a devastating confession.

The sparse instrumentation of Haines's piano lines and three-piece backing band the Soft Skeleton added to her songs' contemplative feel, as with the simple, rolling piano melody of "The Maid Needs a Maid." Rarely, the group slipped into a denser instrumentation that detracted from Haines's voice; the lush ending of "The Last Page" seemed incongruous to its mellower opening. But her solo encore, a cover of the Neil Young-penned Buffalo Springfield song "Expecting to Fly," was a return to her most striking qualities: a simple arrangement, soft vocals and a heartfelt performance.