NEW YORK--Calling someone a one-trick pony is usually an insult.

But in the case of Percee P and Devin the Dude, two rappers who operate at completely different speeds, it's a damn good trick, and they stick to it.

Devin the Dude

Much of CMJ this week has been abuzz over the derivative dance-rap craze, from Spank Rock and Cool Kids to M.I.A. and Santogold. Percee P and Devin the Dude last night both showed the beauty of avoiding trends, developing a style, and honing it to perfection.

Each has a signature flow, with Percee blazing the trail for the "fast rap" style and Devin injecting his tortoise-tempo raps with a copious dose of soul. Each anchored their own stellar hip-hop show last night, with Percee leading a loaded bill at Don Hill's and Devin performing at B.B. King's.

Following excellent opening sets by Distrakt, Akrobatik, Smif N' Wessun, and J-Live, Percee P took the stage and immediately gave the crowd the gut punch it needed to wake up. He wasted no time, jumping right into the rapid-fire "The Man to Praise," one of the best tracks on his standout, years-in-the-making debut album, Perseverance.

Like many of his songs, "Praise" talks about Percee's decades-long struggle to make it in the hip-hop game, grabbing guest slots and selling tapes in front of New York's Fat Beats record store. "Ten years old/all I wanted/was to get on it/at a jam man but you fronted... So I wrote extra hard/the crowd got into me/cause mentally/I left ya scarred."

Up in Times Square at B.B. King's, Devin the Dude was rocking at a completely different tempo. Whereas Percee's flow is lightning fast, Devin is all creep and crawl. But the lyrics are tight, and his half-singing, half-rapping style is incredibly soulful.

With the stage nearly full with hype men and crew, the content didn't stray too far from weed and women. But to be perfectly honest, this guy could be rapping about the fluctuations of the Dow and it would still sound soulful.

The highlight was "What a Job," the standout track on Devin's latest, Waiting to Inhale, on which Devin chronicles the highs and lows of being a working musician in a real way, light-years from the rented props and hollow swagger in much of modern hip-hop.