With an Elvis pompadour and saddle shoes, Janelle Monáe looks like she stepped out of 1950. But after a spin of the Atlanta soul singer's Metropolis: The Chase Suite — a bizarrely catchy collage of hip-hop, jazz and funk offering a dystopian vision of the year 2719 — it's clear Monáe's staking a claim on R&B's future. "The old way hasn't worked — look at declining record sales," says Monáe, 24, whose Big Boi-produced disc cribs from Octavia E. Butler sci-fi novels and Fritz Lang's Metropolis, among others. "This is the perfect time to take a risk."

Monáe's music piles swooping horns, manic strings and organ-backed beats into theatrical tunes that sound as if Gnarls Barkley had hijacked the New York Philharmonic. Spoken-word parts — Monáe name-checks Jim Crow, crack whores and STDs — lend a poetry-slam feel. "Growing up, my father was in and out of prison, and he was addicted to crack," she says of the dark lyrics. "As an artist, I know this all comes out at some point."

Thankfully, the taboo topics haven't scared off fans. Diddy, who put Monáe on his Bad Boy label, called the singer "possibly the most important signing of my career." Prince even offered her his number after a gig. "He said he loved what I was doing and if I ever needed to speak to him, he's available," she says. "So I called him, and we talked about stage lighting. I thought I was in a dream." NICOLE FREHSÉE

Watch Janelle Monáe performing live

Listen Metropolis: The Chase Suite

Get More
• Q&A: Janelle Monáe

• View List: The 2008 Hot List