'09 Users Guide

CRUSH KITTENS OF THE YEAR: NINA SKY
After a five-year wait, identical twins deliver an R&B happy ending.
The Musical (March), album no. 2

2004 was the first time we heard from Nina Sky. But 2004 was also the last time we heard from Nina Sky. Queens, New York–bred twins Natalie and Nicole Albino disappeared so quickly, so mysteriously, not even the cast of Law & Order would bother to investigate. It was a familiar enough path they followed. First: Storm the charts, the clubs and Honda Civic stereo systems with your out-of-nowhere breakthrough banger (in their case, the crackling, serpentine, No. 4 hit “Move Ya Body”). Second: Disappear. Third: Leave people unable to tell the difference between you and Lumidee. Nina Sky just circled the merry-go-round faster than anyone else. 

But the sisters, now 22, are back this spring with their second album, The Musical. They say the five-year wait—a hiatus brought about by label squabbling only recently rectified—has made them more ambitious than ever. “If you wanna have fun, we have fun songs,” says Nicole (the Ni in Nina). “If you’re hating a dude, we have hate-the-dude songs. If you’re feeling lovey-dovey, we have romantic songs.” Natalie (the Na in Nina), agrees: “It’s an every-emotion album!”

From the breathy come-ons and sensuous thudding of “Curtain Call”—the lead single featuring rapper Rick Ross—to the breakup slam “Chapter’s Closed” to the Ryan Leslie–produced swoon “The Real,” it’s a hard-thwacking set, heavy on drums even at its most tender. “No matter what we’re talking about,” Nicole says, “we want people to move to it.”

---

CHART RULERS: TRICKY AND THE-DREAM
These beat gurus who’ve ministered to Rihanna, Beyonce and Mariah are ready to get their own shine on.
Love Vs. Money (TBD), Album No. 2

The-Dream—one half of pop’s most inventive, reliable and successful hit-making duo—is in a Manhattan recording studio, splitting the difference between a Chad Johnson touchdown dance and When Harry Met Sally’s fake-orgasm scene. He pumps at the soundproofed ceiling, does a little two-step in his lizard-print high-tops, throws back his head and squeals: “Mmmm! Oohhh! Yeeeah!” Dream’s job is to live vicariously—he writes songs for pop superstars, in which he imagines their longings, loves and booty calls—but right now, he’s savoring news that one star he has helped is going to help him. “I sent Mariah this beat for my album,” he explains. “Prayed she’d get on it. Got the call the other day: ‘Mariah loves it!’” Cue some more end-zone moans. “I was like, Oooh, baby, yesss!” 

Across the room, Christopher “Tricky” Stewart, hunches over a laptop, paying no attention to his songwriting partner. They first collaborated in 2003, two of the seven people behind Britney and Madonna’s “Me Against the Music”; the duo has enjoyed an astonishing run. Rihanna’s “Umbrella.” Mariah’s “Touch My Body.” Mary J. Blige’s “Just Fine.” Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies (Put a Ring On It).” They excel at mixing weird digitalia—synths that groan, drone, zap and melt—with nagging, nimble melodies; their sonics owe a debt to Timbaland and their tunes nod to R. Kelly, but these days, Tricky and The-Dream have a better hit rate than either and a $110,000-per-track fee to show for it.  

Tricky is the introvert who speaks in a nerdy-sweet Midwestern drawl and has a little trouble with eye contact. He began session drumming in Chicago at age 8 (his mother was a backup singer for Curtis Mayfield and Aretha Franklin), and he loves the prog virtuosity of the Mars Volta. In all, he seems most comfortable in the company of a MacBook. The-Dream—born Terius Nash—is the frontman. He walks in with a stunning Lisa Bonet look-alike on his arm and a silk scarf careening jauntily off his neck. He worships Prince and James Brown, and he speaks, it seems, in a nonstop Chris Rock impression—high-pitched, sonorous, profane. At one point, he greets his studio engineer by playfully threatening to hit him “with a dick jab.”

Their personalities are distinct, but their creative roles are blurred. Tricky’s domain is production; The-Dream focuses on the lyrics and the sex appeal. “Dream’ll be like, ‘I don’t give a fuck why you think that chord progression should be there,’” Tricky explains. “‘Drop that shit and put in an 808! That’s what a DJ’s gonna wanna play three times in a row.’”
 
This year is about some me-time. Tricky is plotting his own dancey “beat record” full of guests, but before that comes The-Dream’s second solo album, Love Vs. Money. Working on Dream material, the duo enjoys a certain freedom: Chart expectations aren’t anywhere near Beyoncé-high. “I don’t wanna jump off the deep end,” Dream says. “But maybe consumers are a little deeper than we give them credit for.” The album’s dominant mode is throbbing, state-of-the-art R&B lasciviousness and strobing electronics—its stranger moments suggest Prince as coproduced by Trent Reznor and Thom Yorke. “I’m the crash-test dummy: Strap this idea on me, and when it works, we’ll dial it up for someone more established,” Dream says. “Anyone can have a No. 1. Our goal is to move the needle.”

---

THE POP PROTEGEE: ESEMEE DENTERS
Pancake waitress catches Justin Timberlake’s eye. Beautiful music ensues.
TBD (March), Album No. 1

Esmée Denters was on her way to a useful career as a social worker when she chanced upon online celebrity. Two years ago, paying tuition by waiting tables at a pancake house in Holland, Esmée (pronounced Ez-May) posted a YouTube video of herself singing the TLC hit “Waterfalls.” The clip, shot with her sister’s Webcam, is grainy but captivating—Denters nervously chomps her gum—and faster than you can say “LonelyGirl,” her shy, Dutch-au-pair-next-door charm had attracted more than 100 million views. Among the smitten voyeurs: Justin Timberlake, who liked her cover of his “What Goes Around … Comes Around” and made her the first artist signed to his label  Tennman Records. Also a fan: Oprah Winfrey, who featured Denters alongside a skateboarding bulldog on her show about YouTube phenoms.

Her debut album will be far less low-tech than her MySpace videos. She’s worked with OneRepublic’s Ryan Tedder (who created Leona Lewis’ “Bleeding Love”) and the production duo Stargate (Beyoncé’s “Irreplaceable”), who, she says, are “amazing. I’ve been singing their songs since I started on YouTube.” Timberlake is executive producing, and he adds vocals to the electro-bounce jam “Love Dealer,” in which the usually demure Denters warns, “Don’t let these innocent eyes fool you.”
   
At 20, she still lives with her mom in the small Dutch village of Oosterbeek and continues to post covers on YouTube, though they’re less pixilated now. “I have to pinch myself to make sure this is really happening,” she says. “I hope it’ll never stop, because I was a terrible waitress.”