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.