September '97 - Page 38

MOORE THAN A FEELING

Abra Moore isn't just another girl.

According to Top 40 doctrine, only a finite number of female acts can acheive pop stardom in a given year. Others must fall, the wisdom goes, so Jewel may prosper. It's a bias Abra Moore's faced ever since she left the Austin music scene to become this year's new bohemian contender. "People are like, Here comes another chick singer," says Moore. "Then you go, Hey, wait a minute, I don't hear you saying, "Oh, God, not another dude."

Not that Moore should worry. Her major-label debut album, "Strangest Places," with its blend of rock swagger, sweet ballads, and pop smarts has already ensured her the kind of mainstream status that's eluded other recent comers. And then, of course, there's that dress. In what may go down as the shrewdest sartorial move since Lisa Loeb's little black number in "Stay," Moore can currently be seen several times a day on VH1 cavorting around in nothing but a slip in the video for her hit single "Four Leaf Clover." Lacking the contrived anger of Tracy Bonham or the bland boho of Patti Rothberg ("My sensibilities are not aggro," Moore admits), she comes off more like a better dressed Edie Brickell - all spacey charm and unaffected hippie-chick earthiness.

Born in Mission Bay, California, and raised by her artist father and stepmother in Puna, Hawaii, Moore, 28, was taunted with the hippie tag "because I was a white kid who lived in an old cane house with no electricity," she says. "I had my polyester pants, my hair ironed straight, and makeup, and my stepmom's like, "Man what is that shit on your face? She was all cool in her Levi's." Moore makes an ironic peace sign. "Most people are proud to be called a hippie," she says. "I'm rebelling."

- Tracey Pepper

 Photo by Marc Baptiste