Raging Against the Machismo

A few weeks ago, while browsing through a deli in her West Harlem neighborhood, singer Kelis Rogers tasted the perils of sudden fame.

“There were these two guys just standing there, staring at me,” she recalls. “One of them finally says, ‘Are you the girl that has that song?’ I’m like, ‘Yeah, what’s up?’ The other guy looks at me with such disgust, and he says, ‘Why are you so angry?’ I’m like, ‘Well, you sound a little bitter, actually. Why are you taking the song so personally?’ ”

That song would be “Caught Out There,” the debut single from the 20-year-old singer, who uses just her first name (pronounced ka-LEECE) professionally. The scorching anti-valentine to a former lover is in the Top 10 of Billboard magazines’s R&B;/hip-hop singles chart, with an accompanying video quickly gaining popularity on MTV, BET and the Box.

“Caught Out There” begins with Kelis saying, “This is for all the women out there that have been lied to by their men--and I know y’all have been lied to over and over again.” She then launches into a soulful, deftly syncopated account of her own betrayal, building up to the explosive chorus, in which she screams, “I hate you so much right now! AAAAGGGHH!”

In the video, which she put together with director Hype Williams, Kelis sports a pink-and-orange afro suggesting a punk lioness and is featured alternately burning a love letter, throwing furniture, pushing her unfaithful beau against a wall and leading a throng of women who carry signs reading, “No More Lies.”

“We always like to play videos that are gonna evoke some kind of emotion,” says Tom Calderone, senior vice president of music and talent at MTV. “And [“Caught Out There”] is certainly not a passive video. You just look at [Kelis] and you go, ‘You know, there’s something here--something that could be pretty big.’ ”

“Overall, I’ve been getting really good responses,” Kelis says. “Once in a blue moon you’ll talk to some dumb guy. But most men know the song is about one particular situation. I was in a long relationship--we were together for three years, and we lived together for 2 1/2 years. [Our breakup] was not really about infidelity. But I had a lot of rage inside me, and I drew on that.

“When we recorded the song, I was still with him. I actually brought it home and played it for him. It was a little uncomfortable, but he was like, ‘OK, that’s cool.’ Then when we broke up, I had even more reason to sing the song.”

Lounging on the sofa of her spacious, comfortable apartment, located only nine blocks from her childhood home, Kelis hardly looks like an angry young woman. Clad in a baby-blue tank top and matching pants, her hair now blond and streaked with green, she exudes an easy warmth.

But she is clearly not one to mince words, whether discussing her personal life or her budding career.

Her first album, “Kaleidoscope,” was released by Virgin Records in December--four months after she brought her demo to the label and only a month after she inked her contract. Since then, the young singer has been raising eyebrows with her edgy, percolating hip-hop/soul textures and frank, often confrontational lyrics--a combination that Entertainment Weekly recently described as “Lauryn Hill sings the Courtney Love songbook.”

“I have a million songs in my head, but I don’t write them down until I just can’t hold the feelings in anymore,” Kelis says. “And if I have bad relationships with men, that’s what I’m gonna write about. I mean, my girlfriends don’t harass me or make me feel hurt or lonely or horny. Why the hell would I sing about them?”

Rob Walker, Kelis’ manager for almost two years, figures that his client’s sassy candor will attract a variety of audiences. He is currently trying to land her a spot opening for Fiona Apple or Beck, after Kelis completes her own 25-city tour sometime in March.

“We’re not trying to pigeonhole her in one genre,” Walker says. “Her appeal is across the board.”

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Kelis says she owes her passion for music to her father, an African American jazz saxophonist and Pentecostal minister who died of a heart attack last year--two days before she secured her record contract. He and Kelis’ half-Puerto Rican, half-Chinese mother--who had recently divorced after 30 years of marriage--had three other daughters. But Kelis, the second-youngest, was the most ardently artistic--and the most rebellious.

“I hated school,” says Kelis, who attended the La Guardia High School for the Performing Arts. “The only reason I went is that I was a drama major, and so for half the day I got to do what I wanted to do.”

At 16, she left home after a fight with her mother. “My mom is one of my best friends to this day,” she says. “But she was trying to create some type of order in the house, and I’m smoking joints out of the window. She was like, ‘This is not going to work.’ ”

A series of jobs--bartender, waitress, clothing shop employee--followed. Then Kelis hooked up with the production team of Chad Hugo and Pharell Williams, better known as the Neptunes, whose credits include SWV, Blackstreet and Ol’ Dirty Bastard. The Neptunes produced and co-wrote the material on “Kaleidoscope,” and they also placed Kelis on backing vocals on ODB’s 1999 single, “Got Your Money,” generating an early buzz on the singer.

“It all happened really fast,” Kelis says. “Once I was with the right people, everything just took off. It was dope. I feel really lucky.”

Signed to the William Morris Agency, Kelis is also fielding film offers. Her hectic schedule allows little time for pursuing another relationship, she admits--but Kelis isn’t complaining.

“I’m feeling really selfish at the moment,” she says. “For three years I supported a man. It was like I had a kid. He didn’t have a job, and I worked 10 hours a day, six days a week. I bought our food, our clothing, everything. I don’t need that right now. I’m totally focusing on my life. Right now, it’s all about Kelis.”