That Was Then--She’s the One in Charge Now

As a child, Kina Cosper worshiped at the gilded altar of Whitney Houston. Whatever Whitney sang or wore, Kina did the same. Now that Kina’s grown up, she wouldn’t mind replicating another Houston element: her mammoth record sales.

With the release Tuesday of her remarkably self-assured solo debut album, Kina, who just uses her first name, may well be heading in that direction.

“Whitney is my idol,” says Kina, lounging outside a North Hollywood rehearsal studio after a smoldering acoustic set with her touring band. “But it’s funny. Now, whenever I try to sing one of her songs, I don’t remember the lyrics.”

A psychoanalyst might read volumes into that quasi-Freudian observation--something about the protegee subjugating the mentor’s influence in order to self-actualize her own goals.

Indeed, Kina’s sound is worlds removed from Houston’s pop gloss. It’s just that she’s had to blast through a few layers of persona before arriving at her sensual yet gritty sound--one that is steeped in rock strains as well as R&B; ones.

The singer, who won’t give her age except to say she’s in her 20s, considers the music on her album the result of years of listening to every conceivable genre, from bubble gum to soul. Asked about current favorite artists, she mentions electro-pop chanteuse Dido as well as industrial-pop band Filter.

That musical “big tent” approach endeared Kina to Lenny Waronker, the DreamWorks Records co-chief who signed her to the label. “I think it’s a combination of things,” Waronker says, when asked about her appeal. “There’s a strong rock feel, but there’s also a hip-hop element. It’s really just her own thing, and that’s what attracted us to her. There are really strong ideas in her songwriting. Every line has meaning.”

“Girl From the Gutter”--the first single from the self-titled album--is a joyous blast of defiance in the tradition of Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know” and TLC’s ‘No Scrubs.”

Over a vigorously strummed acoustic pop riff, Kina stakes her claim to self-sufficiency: “I hope your head is filled with all those magazines / And on every page you see a big picture of me / And under every picture a caption should read / Not bad for a girl from the gutter like me.”

It’s the kind of single that can define the contours of a summer season--the song you hear everywhere. It’s also the most pointedly autobiographical song on the album.

“[The song] comes from me being angry and mad as hell, ‘cause I felt underestimated and disrespected at a certain period in my life,” she says. That period was the mid-’90s, when Kina was a member of Brownstone, the female R&B; trio that scored a Top 10 hit with “If You Love Me” in 1994.

Loosely modeled on the multimillion-selling band En Vogue, Brownstone was, for all intents and purposes, a producer-driven construct that discouraged significant creative input from its members. Kina joined the group in 1995, replacing Mimi (real name: Monica Doby), who reportedly left Brownstone for health reasons.

“I just felt that everybody that surrounded that situation didn’t know who I was, or what I had, and I was mad about it,” says Kina. “It was always, ‘Oh, she’s OK, she can kind of sing.’ ”

Kina chafed at the limited role she was given in Brownstone; thus, “Girl From the Gutter,” a song that allows her to get mad while getting even. “That was one of the first songs I wrote after leaving the group,” she says, “but that song’s about a lot of things: the industry, taking people at face value, not respecting people. Whether you’re the fat kid at school or you have acne, it’s all about the underdogs, really.”

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Kina counts herself among those who have had to work twice as hard to get a leg up.

Born in Detroit, Kina was reared in a house full of women; her father left when she was a small child, leaving Kina to be reared by her mother, a clerical worker, and her grandmother. “A lot of strong women ruled my family,” she says. “I didn’t feel like I was missing anything without a dad.”

A self-described “Dennis the Menace,” Kina was a natural-born troublemaker: “I still have bruises on my elbows from skinning them so much as a kid.” Adolescence was an awkward time for her. She says she “wasn’t happy with who I was as a kid. I might have been a little confused during that middle school transition.”

It was during this time that Kina discovered the power of Houston’s music to help her through stressful patches. “When I went through the terrible teens, her voice spoke to me,” says Kina. “If I was unhappy, she just kinda got me through that time.”

Kina’s preoccupation with Houston took on an obsessive cast: She memorized every breath, vocal note and ad-lib on every Houston record, and repeated them while singing in front of her bedroom mirror. “There’s only one Whitney, and I knew I had to do my own thing,” says Kina, who’s been an L.A. resident for nine years. “When I first moved to L.A., I would sing a Whitney song if I had to audition for anyone.”

She didn’t have to audition for powerhouse manager Benny Medina, who has helped shepherd the careers of such stars as Will Smith, Babyface and Jennifer Lopez.

“When Lenny Waronker and Michael Ostin at DreamWorks played me Kina’s record, I fell down on my knees and said, ‘You have to let me do this record,’ ” says Medina. “Kina’s got angst, passion and optimism, and an ability to deliver it all with passion. I’m still from the school of believing that a great lyric and great melody make a star, and she’s got that.”

Beyond her pop career, Kina has signed on with the Wilhelmina modeling agency for yet-to-be-determined work. There’s also a small pile of movie scripts to sift through. “I’d like to follow in the footsteps of Brandy, you know,” she says. “Do some Revlon ads, maybe Colgate. Ka-ching!”

But that can all wait: “Right now, I’m focusing on the music. I’m not in a hurry to do anything but that.”

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Kina plays July 26 at the Roxy, 9009 Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood, 8 p.m. $7. (310) 278-9457.