After a brief, edgy set that lived up to its name, the local poetry collective Verbal Attack gave up the stage for New Orleans'-based singer, N'Dea Davenport. Davenport, whom many know for her four albums with the Brand New Heavies, took command of the stage with a crack 6-piece band. From beginning to end, her show rocked--whether it simmered through the sexy funk of her first single off her solo album, "Bring It On," or whether she turned the clock back for the straight up blues, "Save Your Love For Me."

Like Davenport's new self-titled, generally self-produced and self-written album--featuring collaborations with incredible production talent ranging from Daniel Lanois (Bob Dylan, U2) to Dallas Austin (TLC, Monica Arnold)--no matter what the style of music, no matter what the rhythm, this powerful vocalist makes it clear that she is the unifying force in control, and her voice is one that eradicates the barriers that divide styles of music.

She made that message explicit toward the end of her set when she said that she was tired of radio formats--"It just seems like one more way they keep us segregated. And that's why I've gotta do this song because it was part of my growing up, hearing it on the radio, and it wouldn't be honest to leave it out."

With that, she broke into a cover of Neil Young's "Old Man," deviating little from the sound and structure of the original song but pushing its dramatic intensity until it felt like you were hearing the song for the very first time.

Aside from putting on a hard rocking, emotionally intense show, Davenport made sure that she connected with the audience consistently and authentically throughout the performance. She sang many parts of the songs eye-to-eye with the crowd, even pushing down on this writer's bowed head to get my full attention so that she might sing the chorus of the sweltering "Bullshittin'" in my face--"Love me/boy, why are you bullshittin'?"

At another point, she laughed when the audience obviously muffed the words to an old Brand New Heavies song, and stopped, "Now the words are . . . ," instructed the crowd and then went on. During encores, she did a request that she couldn't remember, telling the girl that requested it to stay where she could see her so she could remember the words. When she hit a blank, the girl didn't come through for her, and, after giving her some good-natured hell, she went on with the song, no worse for the loss of a few lyrics.

If you saw the show, you won't have to be encouraged to check out N'Dea's solo album. If you didn't, you should pick up the album and make sure you catch her next time around. This has nothing to do with taste--N'Dea will wipe that taste right out of your mouth and replace it with something better.