"The name of the band is 'Kristeen Young'," claims Kristeen, who at 25 has already earned the right to ascend to rock-star status. This is a woman who has certainly paid her dues. Half-German, half-Apache, born and raised in St. Louis, Missouri, Kristeen began studying opera and piano in college.

After fronting a couple of successful local St. Louis bands during the early nineties, she eventually met drummer and partner-in-crime Jeff White. In 1997, she released Meet Miss Young and Her All-Boy Band through the now-defunct World Domination label. Even without the use of guitars, Meet Miss Young was well-received, gaining top-ten college radio airplay across the country. No mere riot-grrl, Kristeen Young was already proving to the world that her music was far more progressive and open than the grunge culture surrounding her.

Kristeen's vocals have been compared with the likes of Kate Bush, and upon closer inspection, one might try to imagine the beauty and range of Bel Canto's Anneli Drecker fused with the intensity of Diamanda Galas, but even that would be short-changing Kristeen's talent as a singer. As for the Tori and Fiona comparisons, Kristeen admits that "it's only because of the female-piano-singer thing." Aside from her phenomenal vocal range (Kristeen can snarl, whisper, wail, and still hit that high F all in one breath)-her lyrics delve much deeper, revealing a dark and delicious intellect which rarely seems to cross over into mainstream music these days.

Last year marked the self-released CD, Enemy, which led to Kristeen and Jeff's emigration from the Mid-West to Lancaster, Pennsylvania, along with bassist Brian Ion. There, the trio began playing shows and developing a reputation in both the Philadelphia and New York City areas. Backed by the foundation of Jeff's driving rock beats and Brian's pulsing bass riffs, Kristeen Young has managed to build quite a following. Kristeen can sing, and she can play those keys as if her fingers were made for that purpose, and no other.

More than just a singer and stage persona, Kristeen Young was recently featured on a spoken word compilation called What's the Word Vol. I, available through Invisible Records. Amidst contenders such as Jello Biafra, Jarboe and Alan Vega, Kristeen displays her control of language with a mind-bending piece entitled "The Last Thing You Need to Hear."

Erstwhile St. Louis concept-rocker Kristeen Young could be many things -- pretentious, abrasive, shrill, sexy, scary -- but she was never boring. Even those benighted souls who mocked her were riveted: With her piercing coloratura, those hilarious costumes, the deranged-diva histrionics, Young was some kind of rare rainforest orchid that somehow sprouted in a field of dandelions. One guy we know dressed up as her on Halloween and was the life of the party. Rockdudes often heckled her, making such scintillating observations as "Lady, you're weird." Local music writers relied heavily on the phrase "over the top" and generally prepared their readers for a full-out galactic-hussy freakfest.

Granted, Young was kinda asking for it. Past sartorial triumphs include outfits contrived from such materials as bubble wrap, Wonder Bread bags and plastic soda bottles. She pulled her hair into funny little sculptures like some kind of crazy future geisha-robot. She used her four-octave range to sing about "life-stealing baby guns." In the grungecentric confines of the old Cicero's Basement Bar and the ancien-régime Side Door, Young provoked equal parts hostility, derision and fascination. But the flannel-clad fascists couldn't distract her from her singular vision. She banged her keys and carried on with her high-drama fanciness, even though it was the Age of Sincerity and everyone, onstage and off, was supposed to resemble a gas-station attendant after a double shift.

Young began performing in the early '90s, first fronting November 9th and Waterworks and then releasing a solo CD on World Domination Records, a subsidiary of London. Her experience with the label was disappointing, and soon she began to think she'd better leave St. Louis. "We thought we should move to a city where the entertainment industry is so we could get a little more notice," Young says by phone from her home in NYC. "I wanted to stay in my hometown and accomplish it from there badly. I tried it for years, but I just couldn't get the attention and exposure. In New York, it's just so much easier."

Far be it from us to encourage a musical brain-drain, but in Young's case the decision paid off. Since she relocated, she's been able to score regular high-profile gigs in the main room at CBGB's, and label types have started to sniff around. Most impressive, she's won over at least one very influential fan: Tony Visconti, her producer, who just happens to be the guy behind some of David Bowie's best albums (including his most recent one, Heathen, on which Young sings backup and plays piano). "We joke about it all the time because I actually didn't know who [Visconti] was," Young admits. "I saw in a magazine that he'd worked with Bowie, and there were people in my audience who really like Bowie a lot, so I thought, 'Well, maybe I'll fit in there.' He called me up before the CD even finished playing and told me it was the best thing he'd been sent in a really long time, that he really wanted to work with me."

Judging from the sampling of songs we heard from Young's next album, Breasticles, Visconti is an excellent fit. As one of the architects of glam, it's no wonder that he gets Young's brand of operatic shock-pop, the ironic theatricality, the edgy sexuality and off-putting come-ons. "I would say that he did influence some of my writing in the sense that I wasn't really that familiar with the glam rock of the '70s," Young says. "When I met him, I got introduced to that material and, I think, inspired. And as far as working with him, he's the most good-hearted man I've ever met. He has a way of letting you do your thing and creating this great creative atmosphere."