You might know him as, “the handsome grandson,” “the outta work superhero,” or by the name on his birth certificate, “Dathan Harbor.” But chances are you’ve never heard of Flex Mathews by any of his many monikers. You may have no idea that, since he moved to D.C. in 2002, a rising star has been right under your nose.

The rest of the country seems to be noticing. In 2005, URB magazine named Flex one of their 100 artists to watch. Since then, he’s opened for big names like Immortal Technique and Lupe Fiasco, won himself a spot on the Vans Warped Tour, and emerged the victor from too many freestyle battles to mention.

Anxious to see for ourselves if Flex lived up to the hype, we checked him out last week at the Red and the Black, where he was performing along with local rappers Math Panda, Ardamus, and Cubbie Bear. His skills on the mic and charismatic stage presence made us wonder why it took us so long to make him one of our Three Stars. We were also refreshed to find that Flex had little of the pomp and swagger common among rappers. Confident but not cocky, the transplant from Sioux Falls, South Dakota is a small-town boy at heart.

The handsome grandson is skinny, with a wide grin and ears that stick out from his head. When he gets amped-up during a song, his eyes sometimes take on a menacing look. In contrast to the sleepy, laid-back flows of 50 Cent or LL Cool J, for example, Flex’s style of delivery is an acerbic staccato. He shuffles back and forth on stage, rapping with the urgency of someone treading water. But between songs, the smile returns, and Flex goes off on entertaining tangents about fist-fights and MC battles. At one point, DJ Idol Hannz interrupts: “Flex Mathews for president!” Flex smirks, “He’s saying that because I talk too much,” then moves on to his next song.

During his short set, standout songs are “Cat Woman,” – about searching for romance – and “Just the Facts,” an ode to straight-talking and a biting critique of the smoke and mirrors in some mainstream hip-hop. Almost all of his songs are peppered with references to Columbia Heights and bygone clubs in the U St. area (Ben N Mo’s, U-Turn). It’s enough to make a Washingtonian’s heart swell with pride, and to make us realize that, even as an out-of-towner, Flex has a lot of love for D.C.

Visit him at: www.myspace.com/flexmathews

See him next: March 14, at DC9

Questions for Flex Mathews:

The South has crunk, the West coast has hyphy. Is there a distinctive D.C. style of hip-hop?

D.C. hip-hop is a diamond in the rough. It’s a very well-kept secret. A friend of mine, oddisee, went over to Australia and people kept coming up to him like, “Yo, what’s going on with D.C. hip-hop? We love D.C. hip-hop.” And the more places he goes, like the Netherlands and Russia, they’re like, “Yo, we love the hip-hop coming out of D.C.”

That’s ironic, because a lot of people here in D.C. don’t know much about our local hip-hop.

They don’t appreciate it cause they’ve had it their whole lives. It’s like a little kid with a toy, you lose interest, you don’t want to play with it anymore. A lot of people rip on D.C.’s music scene, and I think it’s wack. When you come from a place where there is no music scene, like South Dakota, and you get to a place where there is a music scene, you fall head over heels for it.

Do you listen to a lot of local music?

To tell you the truth, other than instrumentals for me to rap to, all I listen to is local music. I’m kinda jaded, and guilty in only buying local music.

Who are your favorites?

Seez Mics, K-Cromizone, T.A.M.U., Ardamus, my friend Damu the Fudgemonk, he's a great producer. DJ Underdog. He puts great mix cds together.

When did you start rapping?

When I was 15. I heard Outkast, Southernplaylisticadillacmuzik and I was like, “Hey, I could do that!” My brother Leo, he went away to college and left a lot of his old clothes behind. That’s when it was first born, man, I put a Kangol hat on and an old pager, and started rapping in the mirror.

Before you moved to South Dakota, you lived in Kansas. Were you born there?

Nope. Born in Germany. I’m a military brat. I read something on the internet that said that military brats are experiments. When I first moved to the States, I told everybody that I was a German-American.

So where's home?

South Dakota. I graduated from school there, and I felt like I kinda stepped into manhood there. But D.C.’s my musical home. Never would I have imagined that I’d be doing what I do here. In South Dakota I had a radio show, but I definitely didn’t perform. There wasn’t a lotta love for hip-hop out there. Now there is. My brothers have a group out there now.

Your brothers are into hip-hop too?

Yeah, my brothers have a group. My older brother Leo does all the graphic design work. My mom, she orders all the T-shirts and stuff. We’re like the Partridge family. I miss them so much.

So why did you decide to move out here?

I didn’t. I came out here for my brother’s wedding and didn’t go back. It was really spontaneous. I used to live in Maryland in ’97. When I came back to D.C. in 2002, I thought, “Whatever man, I don’t need to go back to South Dakota. They have so much music here like jazz, all the indie rock, poetry, punk bands, whatever." When I was here I didn’t have a job so I found myself in the most awkward places. An art show, a punk show, a poetry recital. You know what I’m sayin? I loved it.

What did you think of Lupe Fiasco when you opened for him in December?

He’s a great guy. Stage performance, loved it. I thought it was gonna be really lack-lust, cause people who come onstage wearing shades…I’m like, eh, I dunno… but he goes in full effect you know what I’m saying? His stage performance was great. I gave it a 10, straight up.

What was it like performing on the Warped Tour?

Educational. It’s the first time I’d ever been on the road, music-wise. Me and my friend Damu. We Greyhounded it to every stop. It was great in a sense, but it was hard too. The Warped Tour is a punk-oriented tour. The punk community and the hip-hop community, they are close together, they have the same ideals, but how often do you see them on the same stage?

I think of D.C. as a place that’s good for jazz and punk, but I don’t know a lot about the hip-hop scene.

It’s a tough scene. I once heard someone say that if you can make it in the D.C. music scene, then you can make it anywhere. It’s crazy because I’ve gone to certain places, and I’ve seen the so-called “cream of the crop.” By no means am I braggadocious, but I’m like, “These dudes, you know, they’re cool, but they’re not comparing to the dudes that I rap against daily. Dudes that’ll wipe the floor with me.”