Bay Area native Rasco made his mark in 1997 with "The Unassisted," a solid 12-inch, and followed it with his outstanding debut album, Time Waits for No One (Stones Throw). His straight-ahead rap style and in-your-face rhymes – and his association with Peanut Butter Wolf – made him one of the more interesting MCs in the then-thriving West Coast underground. Six years down the road, he has dropped an EP, The Birth (1999), worked in Cali Agents, produced a second solo LP, Hostile Environment, and has now released a third, Escape from Alcatraz. At this point Rasco's strength is his tenacity. On Escape, you'll find that Rasco feels like he's finally made the album he's always wanted to make. His rhymes haven't changed much over the years – Escape is full of boasting and boxing metaphors. But the music is another story: the beats are understated and subtly infectious. Listen once and you're not sure why you want to play it again. Listen twice and you realize the simple drum, bass, guitar groove on "The Sweet Science" has been stuck in your brain and won't go away. The same is true for "Get Your Guards Up"; while Rasco declares he's "the kind of dude who will come fuck your town up," it's the simple, funky R&B backing he's rapping over that stays with you. Escape won't make him a star, but it's good enough that he's not likely to disappear, either. Rasco plays a record-release party Sat/6, Milk, S.F. (415) 387-6455. (J.H. Tompkins)

Sonny Smith
This Is My Story, This Is My Song (Jackpine Social Club)

Sonny Smith's music is not your run-of-the-mill singer-songwriter stuff. On his second album, This Is My Story, This Is My Song, the San Francisco native evokes Southern hilltop towns and spooky pines as much as mumbling street-corner poets and boozy urban bars. It's country blues meets sidewalk stream of consciousness.

Melodically, Smith's songs have the aura of simplicity. They move at their own sweet pace, shifting direction emotionally with almost every turn of phrase and doing so as effortlessly as a coastal breeze. Smith's smoky voice and gentle guitar are augmented by banjo, accordion, fiddle, and dreamy vocal harmonies, while the rhythms maintain a low profile. More character sketches than straight narratives, the lyrics are a smart tangle of words that conjure kooky smiles and introspective moments of brazen honesty.