Making the Sand

Actual Factual Pterodactyl is not only the best-named album to come out of the New York hip-hop underground this year; it has the added benefit of being exactly the kind of album that you would hope for from something bearing its name. “So many cornballs/ I need a silo,” complains Homeboy Sandman in the intro track, “Food Glorious Food.” We know how you feel, man. More mic-wielding Pterodactyls and fewer cornballs would do everyone a world of good. “Throw your hands in the air if you unsigned/ ‘cause you won’t rhyme about homicide!” exhorts that track’s hook. But let’s be honest, if Homeboy Sandman doesn’t rhyme about homicide, it’s only because he rhymes about...everything else.

Food. Russians. Peace and Love. Fights and Drugs. Nihilism. Vinyl-ism. And was that one entire track that’s really just an ad telling you to buy his tracks on iTunes? Yes it was. But it was so fresh you didn’t even notice. His first album, Nourishment, came out more than a year ago, when Boy Sand was just another Queens-bred MC circulating throughout the city’s open mics and circuit of small shows. And he’s still doing that, of course, because the only cats who find instant success make music with a much greater appeal to drunk 15-year-old girls who snuck into clubs. But his progress is straight out of the “How To Pull Yourself Up By The Bootstraps” handbook. Today, he’s hosting the open mics; the concerts have moved up to bigger venues; he’s doing shows with established names like Keith Murray and J-Live, along with the same underground heads he always did. Earlier this summer, he was profiled in the legendary “Unsigned Hype” section of The Source magazine—a column that’s launched the careers of Biggie Smalls, Eminem and a host of others. In an age when no MC is promised more than 15 MySpace fans, he’s doing well for himself. And he seems to be having the time of his life.

“Cats think it’s hard tryna’ make it out of the underground. It’s hard work. But it ain’t hard,” Boy Sand says, via email. “‘Hard’ to me suggests some uncertainty as to whether or not it can be done. As long as you’re crazy nice, and you devote every waking moment of your life to your craft and to being the best you can be in every facet of your existence, you can’t be stopped. People only think that sounds hard ‘cause they haven’t tried it. Try it. It’s pretty easy.”

Hear that? All it takes is complete dedication of your life to a single cause. Simple! But Boy Sand rhymes giddily about never wearing a tie again. His day (and night) job is hip-hop. He spends hours sticking up fliers on the F train. He still shows up to rock any far-flung venue with a mic and some speakers.

“If you don’t think that Boy Sandman is mad nice/ You don’t care about the advancement of mankind.” He means to challenge the status quo. In “Actual Factual Pterodactyl,” he mixes anthemic tracks about lightning bolts with breezy verse-trading sessions featuring a roster of surprise underground guests. To each, he shapes his flow like Play-Doh around the sonic edges.

“I abhor your whole horde/ All your cohorts/ Anyone with whom you hope to consort/ Anyone you know that died I hate their corpse/ Anyone you know Jedi/ I hate their force,” he says. But Homeboy Sandman is a love-based life form. He means that in the nicest possible way.

With J-Live and Louis Logic, July 25, Knitting Factory, 74 Leonard St. (betw. B’way & Church St.), 212-219-3132; 10:00, $20