A balanced bunny.

Lovers and Crypts

* Bunny Rabbit * Voodoo-Eros

Just being a biracial lesbian hip-hop duo is daring enough. But it's the name that pushes the subversion level into the red: Bunny Rabbit. There hasn't been an ME with such a cuddly handle since Doodlebug and Butterfly of Digable Planets. It's like having invectives lobbed at you by the Pillsbury Doughboy or the Snuggle the fabric-softener bear.

A Brooklyn, N.Y., native of Samoan and Mexican ancestry, Bunny Rabbit's delivery is not about tongue-twisting dexterity. Nor does she assume the threatening pose of Lil' Kim or Foxy Brown, even when her rhymes occasionally turn X-rated. Bunny does just fine cooing and gently teasing fans into committing naughty deeds without resorting to bullying. When she does let the vitriol fly, as in the mid-song rant about gentrification that punctuates "Dirty Dirt," stand back--her crazy-eyed, saw-toothed attack could make passersby cross to the other side of the street.

Bunny Rabbit gets top billing, but what makes her shtick click is the integration of beats and sound collages courtesy of Black Cracker (alias spoken word artist Celena Glenn), her partner in life as well as art. They're crude and gritty, yet always inventive. What sounds like a rusty stapler keeps time on the title cut, while 'We Rollin'" is shot through with a treble countermelody only dogs should be able to hear. Judiciously juxtaposing such extreme sounds with Bunny's schoolgirl flow, at its best Lovers and Crypts generates an otherworldly creepiness reminiscent of early U.K. punk iconoclasts the Slits ("It Ain't Easy').

DIY to the core, the disc straddles a very fine line between art and parody, especially when it flirts with entrenched hip-hop convention: hearing Bunny brag about being "all up in da club" seems forced, yet her ubiquitous what's-my-name riff, "Bunny Baby," ranks among this duo's sexiest dance floor fillers. Like many hip-hop titles, Lovers and Crypts could benefit from some pruning, but for queers who dig the indie jams of Scream Club as well as the chart fare of Mary J. Blige, cuts like "Saddle Up" and "Lucky Bunny Foot" get the party hopping.