Atlanta’s T.I. brings down the House

“If you’re not going to bust it out for me, then who’re you going to bust it out for?” T.I. asked the ladies in the sold-out crowd Friday at the House of Blues on Sunset. The rapper was teasing his stage-rushing, cellphone waving, hysterical female fans, exuding a swinger’s air of jaded confidence.

He didn’t have to work his charm too hard -- he’d owned the crowed from the moment he emerged in orange shorts and a designer backpack and let his DJ, Lil C, announce him as a phoenix rising from the flame -- but this platinum-selling hard heartthrob clearly relished every scream.

The Atlanta-based rapper had already bared his knuckles with the aggressive “Stand Up,” waxed picturesque about his hometown in “Ride With Me,” and led the audience in a blissed-out chorus praising marijuana in “24’s”; a little flirtation with the female half (or possibly two-thirds) of his audience let him take a minute to relax. But T.I.’s lover-boy ministrations quickly gave way to streetwise storytelling and, of course, braggadocio, a favorite pastime of this self-proclaimed “King of the South.” As his mood shifted with every new hit unfurled, T.I.’s central concern stayed the same -- to flex his limber lyrical muscle, whatever subject it served.

That flexibility has helped T.I. triumph despite career bumps (notably a prison stint for violating probation on a drug charge) and a case of what might be called “shadow syndrome” -- a problem pop stars face when they’re working an image similar to greats who’ve gone before. The great New York MC Jay-Z is T.I.’s unmatchable comparison: a stunningly deft rhymer with a serious edge, a mogul’s ambition and a cool demeanor. With his fourth and biggest-selling album, the platinum “King” (Grand Hustle/Atlantic), T.I. continues to labor toward matching his role model; at the House of Blues show, he demonstrated that he’s got at least a little something that might have Jay-Hova beat.

T.I.’s ruling talent is that role-jumper’s charisma, the ability to be different things to a crowd of people at the same time. With his rhymes about big guns and bigger cars and his patter demanding respect from an inarguably adoring crowd, this ex-con convincingly played the tough guy; he even got vulnerable in an appropriately macho way, mourning a recently shot member of his entourage with the gospel-flavored “Live in the Sky.” Yet T.I’s also a loose-limbed stage prowler who comes off as a bit of a goof; that’s probably the side that appeals to his many female fans.

He could have granted his admirers a bit more verbal spontaneity. Working with a disappointingly straightforward DJ and introducing only one protege, Young Dro, to stir his gamesmanship, T.I. delivered a set whose liveliness came from his personality more than from the music. He didn’t offer any notable freestyle rhymes, instead presenting his crafted hits to a crowd eager to immerse in them together, and most songs were condensed to ensure they wouldn’t lose their frenzied edge. On album, T.I. can be thoughtful; live, he was running a victory lap. But he sure looked handsome doing it.