HE MAY BE compact, but when Baby Jaymes steps up to a mic and wails, he's definitely "po'ent," to quote comedian Jamie Kennedy's assessment of the East Oakland soul singer and sometime rapper. And judging from the enthusiasm of the loyal fans who turned out for his hour-long Berkeley performance – goin' stoopid on the dance floor, bouncing in place to the unrelenting grooves of Jaymes's band, and chanting the title of his forthcoming debut CD, Ghetto Retro (on which Kennedy, as well as George Clinton, guests) – the diminutive 26-year-old singer-songwriter appears on the verge of launching a new musical movement.

If it took too long for Jaymes to make it to the bandstand following an overly extended instrumental number and a highly stylized intro by hype man Butta, he made up for it with his high-octane delivery of tunes from Ghetto Retro. Wearing a black leather jacket, open-collar white shirt with a dangling gray tie, baggy baby-blue slacks, and black-and-white Keds, Jaymes rocked from side to side while singing "I'm looking for a ghetto girl" in assertive high-tenor tones that suggested the dual influences of Prince and Raphael Saadiq. Bassist Marcus Phillips and drummer Q. Jackson locked tightly at the bottom, as guitarist Steve Wyerman supplied Jimmy Nolen-inspired scratches in the mid-range and background vocalists Ko'ray and Femi chirped an incessant "ghetto" at the top. The rhythmic intricacy of their parts combined to create the type of intense party groove one associates with Parliament-Funkadelic.

Jaymes and company sometimes used familiar instrumental patterns from old-school soul hits to segue from one song to the next. A snatch of James Brown's "Licking Stick" served as a bridge from "So Ghetto" to "Hott 4 Me," and the reggae-like pattern of the Staple Singers' "I'll Take You There" turned up in "Nasty R&B Singer." That tune made its first appearance four years ago on cowriter D'Wayne Wiggins's solo CD for Motown, but Jaymes's version is the stronger of the two. "You made up your mind that I'm spending time with another broad that you know me to freak-quently see," Jaymes sang, using melismas to bend and stretch syllables for maximum poetic impact.

The rhythmic momentum continued to build during "Tricks," which, like several of Jaymes's other songs, borrows a hambone beat older than Bo Diddley. Jaymes was now rapping more than singing. "How you like it?" he asked, to which the singers answered, "Just like that." "Tricks are made for niggas," they continued over Marcus Crawford's low-pitched P-Funk organ riff.

The energy dissipated at the end of the long four-song medley, but after a bit of mid-set confusion, Jaymes and the crew ripped into the delightfully melodic "Black Girl/White Girl." With a razor-toned guitar riff fueling the funk, Jaymes sang, "Like a black girl who grew up without your daddy, your relationships they be shady, but I forgive you when you try to play me. Just like a white girl who grew up without their father, their relationships they be harder, but I know she can take it farther." Later in the set, he offered an "a cappella remix" of the tune, on which DC Beatbox supplied vocal percussion and turntable simulation. As guest MCs from Oakland's Turf Skwad came to the stage, song and speech meshed. Chaos took hold at times, but focus finally returned when Ko'ray concluded the affair with a Rick James tribute consisting of heartfelt treatments of "You and I" and "Super Freak."

Baby Jaymes has been working with a live band for only a year, and his show is in need of some serious tightening. On the other hand, he has a lot to live up to. Ghetto Retro, due out in late October, throws a long shadow: it's a fully realized masterpiece that imaginatively weds some of the best elements of old-school R&B with contemporary hip-hop energy. If this potential superstar's live performance can match the disc's brilliance, the album title could well become the name of a national movement instead of just a local slogan. (Lee Hildebrand)