Commentary : Old School Revival : 33 1/3 gives voice to home-grown hip-hop artists who are underground, political and, well, cool.

Those who caught one of the million airings of the recent MTV Video Music Awards witnessed the demise of “cool.” What used to be a groovy, spontaneous treat has become as staged as the Oscars. Ain’t nothing organic about teeny-boppers with plastic surgery and 24-hour stylists.

Perhaps the greatest travesty is that hip-hop isn’t what it used to be either--namely, underground, political and cool. It wasn’t store-bought, but home-grown out of cleverness and a necessity to get one’s point across. Well, thank Allah that Chris Vargas refuses to leave his roots behind, because the young L.A. club promoter is going against the grain of contemporary hip-hop and taking it back to the deep underground with 33 1/3, a weekly spoken-word hip-hop joint.

Held Monday nights at Luna Tierra Sol Cafe, a veggie restaurant and juice bar in the MacArthur Park district, 33 1/3 offers people willing to open their hearts a group of listeners willing to open their minds. Dealing with raw emotions and hitting raw nerves, the poets at 33 1/3 take the audience back in time with some freestyling, free-flowing freedom of expression. Just listening is a salve to all the music-business slickness.

The club gets rolling about 10 p.m., with a first-come, first-up sign-up sheet. While deejay Higher gets people loose by manning the turntable with pure old-school hip-hop, poets are scattered throughout the room, putting pen furiously to paper like a bunch of coeds cramming for a test. The night’s host, a poet named Jerry Quickley, is first up. Quickley goes straight for the jugular, with poems about brothers playing themselves--worrying too much about the material and not about taking care of their children, their families and their heads.

The music dissolves and a first-timer is handed the mike. He rails against consumerism--warning parents about their “Lee Press-On daughters” while frustratingly acknowledging his own role in this superficial society. A young Latino is next, challenging his homeboys to ask “Why?” each time they pick up a gun, each time they aim it at a brother, each time they suck on a pipe. The 60 or so people who pack the small spot clap or snap their fingers vigorously in support, and the room is charged with electricity.

Organic Food and Fresh Beats

Although the 5-month-old club started at Al’s Bar, the downtown rock ‘n’ roll spot ixnayed it after its first outing. Luckily, a member of the audience who worked at Luna Tierra saw its potential and lured Vargas over to his cafe. It’s a good fit too. Political fliers and art decorate the colorful spot, which is draped with dozens of yarn-woven Ojos de Dios (“eyes of God” handcrafts). Although the action takes place in one room, there’s an additional dining area and a few tables outside, so people can spread out a bit. There’s no alcohol, just a lot of incense, which goes well with the organic food and fresh juices served all night here.

In between poets, guest deejays offer up fresh underground beats. The weekly shows are sponsored by Realized Records, a new local independent label. Its first release, a single titled “Mumia911,” featuring Freestyle Fellowship, Zack de la Rocha, Chuck D and GoldiiLoks and other rappers, was on Billboard’s rap charts last week. (“Mumia911” is part of a larger project titled “Unbound,” aimed at raising awareness of Mumia Abu-Jamal, who was convicted of killing a Philadelphia police officer and faces execution.)

Everything about 33 1/3 feels right, from its youthful spirit to the opportunity it affords a wide variety of people to speak their minds. The club’s been getting so popular, Vargas has started a monthly version called Words, which takes place at the roomier Cafe Club Fais-do-do. The next Words is scheduled for Oct. 22.

Ultimately, 33 1/3 is exactly what L.A.’s soul needs as we approach the millennium--something that doesn’t just look and sound good--something that feels good.

BE THERE

33 1/3 at Luna Tierra Sol Cafe on Mondays, 2501 W. 6th St., Los Angeles, (323) 957-4897. All ages, $5 cover. Doors open at 10 p.m. (for monthly shows at Cafe Club Fais-do-do, call info line).