Necro

It may be an uncomfortably short fall from the blood-drenched stylings of Brooklyn rapper Necro to the absurd pageantry of, say, Insane Clown Posse. But you'll find no smeared black lipstick or hatchetman bling at Station 4 tonight (well, not onstage anyway). What you'll find is death-rap's most talented practitioner angrily commanding the stage, spewing the viscera of his gruesome craft. And visceral it promises to be. Necro has spent the last 15 years clawing out a niche in that divisive no-man's-land where rap's lyricism and metal's aggression exchange bayonet strikes. That's sweaty work, folks, and it's turned Necro's chops on the mic into razor fangs—his flow is biting and caustic, his production as foreboding as John Gacy's crawlspace. With an opportunity to watch Necro administer dead body disposal tips to an all ages crowd, this promises to be a most objectionable night. With Psycho Realm, Danny Diablo, Boondox Regime, Rivera. All ages.
Tue., Jan. 15, 5 p.m., 2008