Grooves by the Clock

Lilith Fair isn’t the only groundbreaking pop tour of the late ‘90s. Though less ambitious in terms of the number of acts and the size of the venues, Smokin’ Grooves is opening doors for rap artists much the same way Lilith has for women.

Before the House of Blues launched the summer Grooves tour two years ago, rap shows had a reputation generally for being notoriously disorganized affairs, marred by poor production and, in some cases, the less than professional attitude of some of the acts themselves.

But Grooves has changed that, bringing a discipline to the genre that includes state-of-the-art sound and staging to enable artists to be properly showcased.

Thursday night’s Grooves stop at the Universal Amphitheatre was so streamlined that it actually ended a few seconds ahead of time--a precision almost unheard of in rock for a seven-act, five-hour event.

The affair was so organized that a video monitor was placed in the wings to keep the acts informed on how much time was left in their sets--the equivalent of an NBA shot clock.

When one act, Gang Starr, apparently went past its limit early in the evening, its sound was cut off--leaving DJ Premier to voice his displeasure into a dead microphone.

The evening’s acts, performing in sets ranging from 10 to 45 minutes, offered a varied and mostly appealing look at the state of contemporary rap, missing only the hard-core gangsta element.

There was the classic old school commentary of Public Enemy and Gang Starr as well as the party-minded exuberance of Busta Rhymes and Cypress Hill. There was also the neo-positivism of L.A.’s Black Eyed Peas (minus one of its three rappers, who reportedly had flight problems on the East Coast) and the lightweight vocal stylings of young Mya (who sang along in her solo set to prerecorded music).

In a class by himself was Wyclef Jean, whose cadre of co-rappers included star-in-the-making Canibus.

When it was all over, two things stood out: Public Enemy, back together after a few years of inactivity, remains a vital force. The group’s blend of Terminator X’s explosive beats and, especially, Chuck D.’s challenging, social conscious raps, makes Public Enemy the equivalent in rap of whatever lofty rock standard you want to apply, be it the Beatles or Bob Dylan.

Chuck D., turning Thursday to vintage material and tunes from the group’s excellent new “He Got Game” soundtrack, raps with a clarity and sophistication that has influenced everyone who matters in rap, from Ice Cube to the late Tupac Shakur.

But it may well be Jean who is the future of live hip-hop--if he doesn’t get caught up in the dark side of the rap lifestyle. The editor of Blaze, a new hip-hop publication, charged this week that the rapper threatened him at gunpoint over a negative review the magazine was going to run on the upcoming Canibus album.

Jean didn’t mention the incident in his set and had no comment backstage, though a spokesman for the rapper said a statement is forthcoming.

What Jean did make clear Thursday was that he has the ambition and instincts as a performer to break past the limited rap stage mode popularized a decade ago by Run-DMC: the restless pacing of the stage, stopping only to thrust an arm into the air or occasionally command the audience to “Say, yeah!”

Some groups do the basic drill with more passion and charisma than others, but it still becomes tedious over time.

Jean has distinguished himself musically over the last two years with his Grammy-winning Fugees album, “The Score,” plus his own, marvelously varied solo album, “Wyclef Jean Presents the Carnival . . ., “ as well as for his production work, notably Canibus’ “Second Round K.O.,” one of the year’s most celebrated rap singles. In the process, he has shown a striking ability to fuse traditional pop sensibilities with contemporary hip-hop ones.

And he brought this range and imagination on stage with him Thursday--all wrapped up in a package so colorful and free-form that it bordered on performance art.

The high jinks ranged from his surprise entrance on stage (disguising himself as a bootleg photographer who tussles with a burly security guard) to playfully admonishing an older member of the mostly under-21 audience for sitting down and wearing earplugs at a hip-hop show.

If it sounds like chaos, it bordered on it at times as he used the music--a glimpse of this song here, a trace of another one there--as simply touchstones for the overall impact he was seeking.

In a formal concert, rather than a 45-minute showcase, Jean devotes more attention to the music itself. The focus this time was strictly on entertainment, and it was a welcome one that may help convince young rap fans that the music is meant to be seen live rather than just heard on boomboxes.

That’s a message that needs to be spread. For all the publicity that Smokin’ Grooves has received over the last three years and the quality names on the bill this time, the 6,200-seat Amphitheatre was only about two-thirds full.