As a connoisseur of pop culture—like most of my peers—I’m reluctant to admit that I tend to rave about music that moves my soul or shakes my ass. (OK, it’s a confession.) This is why I was reluctant to check out Kid Sister’s duet with Kanye West, “Pro-Nails.” Never mind the intense hype—both local and international—the consistent press raves, the sales and Kid’s instant cred in the boys’ club of hip-hop, “Pro-Nails” was rap. To say that rap doesn’t engage my inner spirit or my loins is putting it mildly. Where others hear the beauty of flowing words and percussive finesse, I hear thudding syllables on top of monotonous clunking. Imagine my surprise when I finally un-dummied up and got into her debut from last November, Ultraviolet (Universal Republic Records), a record that just won’t seem to go away.

Oh, Kid raps her heart out to be sure, but she also croons, charms, struts, shouts, funks out and shimmies like the fate of the universe depended on it and it’s easy to see why she’s a hit not only with the B-boys and the South Side crew, but also suburban kids and gay bois and girls of every flavor. Like most rappers she’s got personality to spare and her flow has punch but what she doesn’t have is pretention or a hollow attitude. On Ultraviolet she challenges up front (“Big N Bad”) without swagger and nothing about her or her music approaches a put on. More surprisingly, parts of Ultraviolet harken back to the DIY aesthetic of the Riot Grrrrrrrrrrrrl wave; Kid Sister’s attitude seems to be, “If you want something done right, do it your own damn self.”

That attitude reveals a lot about who Kid Sister really is. Sister (nee Melisa Young), who was born in Markham, Ill., struggled financially, even working in a Bath and Body Works for a spell. Often having problems with her weight—at one point she weighed more than 200 lbs.—didn’t stop her from achieving a degree in film production from Columbia College. (In interviews she’s said that her self-esteem was not tied to her waistline.) While she worked on a few major films she went right ahead and worked on her music with duo Flosstradamus, one half of whom was her younger brother Josh “J2K” Young. Word of mouth, MTV’s My Block and Kanye weren’t far behind.

But her attitude and talent don’t explain Ultraviolet’s seamlessness and drive; it’s like a nice long, adventurous, summer radio single that zooms along at a thrilling velocity. With a clutch of top-notch producers (including Yuksek, XXXChange, Herve, Rusko and DJ Gant-Man), it’s something of a miracle that Kid and executive producer A-Trak make the album so consistent and driven. “Right Hand Hi” is the perfect opener—a greeting, an announcement, a handshake and a call out to any and everyone with an outstretched hand and an ear-to-ear smile. “Life on TV” and “Let Me Bang” are rock/rap workouts wrapped in the finest pop finesse; unnervingly catchy, propulsive and smart, they’re like oversized ice-cream cones on a summer day—they’re so good and yummy that you want them to last for hours. “Step”—a reworking of Queen Latifah’s “Ladies First” with an assist from Estelle—is both elegant and visceral and, I’m sorry, but popular music these days rarely gets better than this. Even “You Ain’t Really Down,” a typical “my-man-ain’t-no-good” blues scented anti-ballad has an a-typical stance; instead of wallowing in the messy reality of the situation, getting pissed-off or crying about it Kid Sister states her case, coolly closes down that relationship, and walks away. Empowered? No question, Kid Sister doesn’t even break a sweat.

Her blow-out at the Pritzker was all about the sweat, though. Abetted by a crisp, spine-rattling, deep bass mix, Kid hit the stage with a high-octane “Right Hand Hi” and started the party with a bang. “Life on TV” and “Big N Bad” went off the rails in a jolly way while “Let Me Bang” had a blunt funkiness that thoroughly fleshed out and improved her studio version. More revealing was Kid herself; equal parts clown, cheerleader and acrobat, with her hair and a necklace of tiny brass crucifixes flying in all directions. So did she move my soul? Well, I have to say it was giggling. Did she make my ass shake? It had no choice…