Forget backstage -- M&F captured these finely tuned divas where they sleep by Jeff O'connell Photographs by David Dreben ABBY GENNET A prom queen and cheerleader who wore blue nail polish, Abby Gennet still has the same mixture of ethereal beauty (think Kate Hudson) and punk hellfire (think Chrissie Hynde). The latter, who went from penning magazine critiques of rock stars to being one, is the closest analogue for Abby. She has reported on music as a VJ for MTV and MTV2 and then VH1 while fronting the New York City-based band SLUNT, which just signed an indie deal. "A hobby gone wild", she calls it. Indeed. Abby's mother is a financial planner, and her father works in the furniture trade, but the apple didn't just fall far from the tree, it landed in another orchard. And her rock 'n' roll dreams were realised through almost ridiculous serendipity. An interest in photography led her to a seminar given by Mark Seliger, a Rolling Stone lensman, who then hired her to manage his studio, encouraging her to pursue her own work in between clients. While bartending to make ends meet, Abby was handed a lead by a club booker that landed her on MTV2. That's how it always happens, right? Did you really compete in a bodybuilding show in high school? We had a contest called Mr. and Mrs. NMB [North Miami Beach]. I really got into working out and taking care of my body. I was in the gym every day. What prompted you to pick up weights? For me, it's always good to have a goal in mind when I want to get in shape, like bikini season. Living in Miami, you're always wearing as few clothes as possible, so it's good to be in shape. We also had a great gym coach. I owe it all to Coach Ruland [laughs]! I actually went back to my high school a couple of months ago, and he's still there. What did you tell the kids? "Listen, if you want to be the next 50 Cent -- well, if you're sitting around on your couch rapping, no one's going to hear you. Make your tape, get out there and do work experience at a record company. If you want to be a producer, go over and sweep the floors for free if you have to. Eventually you'll work your way up to engineer."      My whole philosophy in life [amounts to] throwing a pile of s--t up on the wall and seeing what sticks. But for the kids I used "spaghetti". Describe the SLUNT sound. People always ask me who we sound like, but I hate comparing us to other groups, especially since there aren't a lot of female-fronted rock bands out there right now. But the best way to describe our sound is "New York City trash rock" -- sexy, catchy tunes you can crank up loud and bang your head to. What's next for the band now that you've signed your deal? We're heading back into the studio this month to finish our album. We should have it done by the end of the summer, and then we're going on tour. I won't have my gym nearby, but lugging my amp around should burn some calories [laughs]. And I'll get plenty of cardio rockin' out every night onstage. When your body is hard and cut, do you kind of revel in the power that gives you onstage? When I'm in good shape, I definitely dress a lot skimpier onstage [laughs]. But whether it's rockin' out onstage or walking down the street, when you're in good shape, you definitely carry yourself differently. Confidence is sexy. What does your mum think of your career to date? Certain things she'll roll her eyes at and give me that Oh, Abby look [laughs], but she knows I'm not going to cross that line and compromise my integrity. I'll get onstage wearing really skimpy clothing and roll around and get crazy, but, you know, it's fun. It's rock 'n' roll. DJRAP Guitarists' fingers are notoriously blistered, but turntables and vinyl have been noticeably kinder to the digits of Charissa Saverio, aka DJ Rap. Slender and tanned, they're hand-model perfect -- not to mention dexterous enough to have made her the queen DJ of drum-and-bass and other forms of electronica. She also produces her own recordings and owns a small record label.      How fitting that a woman of Malaysian-Irish-Italian descent mixes now. The globe-hopping of a DJ's life is an extension of Charissa's similarly nomadic childhood: the daughter of a hotelier, she grew up living in luxury. Her worldly inquisitiveness comes through not only in the club but also in her conversation, which can veer from FBI profilers and serial killers to biological warfare. To keep fit while touring, she practises the martial art ninjitsu, jogs and eats "superhealthy" because she's "permanently hungry". Did you enjoy growing up in these palatial hotels in far-off lands? For a kid, it's a weird experience. There were no other children. It was very much adults and hotel guests and learning how to eat properly. Dinnertime meant going down to the main ballroom, where I'd play piano in front of everybody, which I think sucks for a kid. I was very lonely. I got the hell out of that life as soon as I could, when I was 14. Most people have a vague sense of what techno is, but what's drum-and-bass? It's like techno with beats. Beats per minute can be anywhere from 160 to 185, which is fast, but people dance to it at half that speed, so it's very sexual. It's ferocious, but it can also be beautiful and melodic. How many machines, records and eardrums does one destroy learning the craft? Learning how to work a turntable can initially be the most frustrating thing you can do. I produced my first record in 1988 and started DJing in 1989, and I had one tape recorder and a Syntronic deck. So I would play the cassette and try to mix the deck into it, and it took me six months of throwing vinyl across the room to get that. It's really something no one can show you; it's up to your personality and how you mix. My trademark is to keep everything in key. I'm classically trained in piano and guitar, so I can't bear things that clash. It all has to sound good, even if it's dark. When you have this sea of bodies moving as one to your sounds, are you feeling that? Oh, yeah. It's the horniest thing ever, DJing and controlling a crowd. You're like a puppeteer. You know what string to pull, and they're responding, and that's the best feeling in the world. That's what got me into it. I was rocking out to a DJ, and I was like, God, you couldn't make me feel any better. India.arie In an age when young R&B chanteuses equate history with reminiscing about Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation tour, India. Arie's roots run deeper, back to the golden era of soul music and the confessional singer-songwriter movement alongside which it flourished in the early 1970s. Hence the title of her 2001 debut, Acoustic Soul, which earned seven Grammy nominations and admirers including Oprah Winfrey and Elton John. Her 2002 follow-up, Passage to India, cemented her status as a first-rank singer-songwriter with a deep, soul-drenched voice and a knack for wrapping her positivity anthems inside muscular, radio-friendly grooves.      India certainly has the pedigree to be something of a '70s revivalist, given that her father is Ralph Simpson, who once starred with the ABA's Denver Nuggets. In fact, India figures she'd be a pro athlete if she hadn't followed her muse instead. She used to lift weights and shoot hoops with her father, but today running, yoga and a vegan diet help keep her grounded and fit while touring the world. I've read that you started performing in college. Did you put on weight when you were a student? Our campus was spread out, and a lot of people would ride bicycles, including me. And I was always late. I'd be riding down the street jumping over stuff with my portfolio strapped on my back, and I really didn't know how much that was a turning point for my health until after I left school. One day I looked in the mirror, and I was like, Wow. I got strong, muscular legs naturally from my mum and dad, but after riding for two years, I was toned all over -- my arms, stomach, back, legs, everything. All the baby fat was gone. Dance is the most direct connection between music and the human body, but is there a subtler link for you, in the sense of feeling and processing music in your body? There's this thing that I've experienced my whole life: if I feel music at all -- some stuff I like, but I don't feel it -- it hits different parts of my body. Like if I really feel something, it's all chills and tingles [shakes her body on the couch as if possessed]. Every organ jumps and everything moves. For me, that's what a lot of my music is about: moving things. I don't know what it is yet, but my godfather said that my aura gets really big when I sing. Even the term soul music implies something which is not -- Yeah, I appreciate the term soul music when you want to talk about Sam Cooke or Al Green, but in the year 2004, I think soul music has taken on a different meaning. It doesn't have a colour or a face. If the artist is singing from his or her soul, then you feel it in that same place. That's soul music to me. M&F

ABBY DJ RAP INDIA