The year was 1990. The first George Bush was president. Until August, most Americans didn't know Iraq and Kuwait had a beef.

Roxette's "It Must Have Been Love," Sinead O'Connor's "Nothing Compares 2 U," Madonna's "Vogue" and Bell Biv DeVoe's "Poison" were huge singles. Nobody except hard-core fans knew just how popular country and hip-hop were — the sales tracking system SoundScan was not introduced until 1991 — and gangsta rap was still a public outrage rather than a familiar part of the cultural landscape.

And each year at the nation's largest music festival, hip-hop was still a rarity.

One hundred and sixty miles southeast of Austin, three rappers calling themselves the Geto Boys tried to get an album on their Rap-A-Lot label heard outside of Houston. The album — renamed "Geto Boys" after it was picked up, reworked and released by famed impresario Rick Rubin and his Def American label — came with nagging problems. The song "Mind of a Lunatic," a crass bit of verse involving a serial killer, caused Def American's distributor, Geffen, to pull the plug on the album and force it to find independent distribution.

But they had delivered a message: Houston was home to the hardest, meanest rappers on the planet. A year later, the Boys' single "Mind Playing Tricks On Me," a tense, terse look at inner-city violence, was hailed as an instant hip-hop classic. Surely, this would be the song that put Houston on the map, right?

Well, not really. For the next decade and a half, Houston — and Texas in general — was hailed as the next big scene.

While Houston innovated on the sidelines — see also the late DJ Screw, who largely invented the slowed-down "screwed" style, and groups such as UGK, who defined the post-Geto Boys, "Dirty South" gangsta style — other cities in the South got fat (and phat).

Master P's crew in New Orleans. Outkast and friends in Atlanta. Nelly and the St. Lunatics in honorary Southern city St. Louis. Even Memphis got some love.

But Houston was always a thugged-out bridesmaid, never the geto bride.

This may soon change, and you have to look no further than this year's extraordinary lineup of Texas hip-hop at South by Southwest to know that something is different. Never has SXSW showcased so much promising Texas rap, with bleeding-edge talent grabbing mics alongside hard-core veterans.

From ChingoBling.com Chingo Bling plays South by Southwest on March 18 at the Fox and Hound.

On Wednesday night, Houston rapper (and critical darling) Bun B. of the group UGK, was slated to rock the Back Room. Others such as Slim Thug, Paul Wall, Mike Jones and Chamillionaire are all sporting major label deals. (Wall and Slim are both here this year.)

Hip-hop and South by Southwest share a complicated past. Showcases have traditionally focused on independent, slightly nerdy coastal talent (termed "backpacker" hip-hop) that appeals more to indie rock fans and college kids than the majority of the traditional urban music market.

The festival has seen some arty high points, no question. In '96, the Fugees played at a newly minted Stubb's as rain and lightning streaked the sky. Erykah Badu showed up in '97 with a hip-hop act, way before she was famous. Last year, Dizzee Rascal, the most important purveyor of the singularly British hip-hop called "grime," amazed an audience seeing him for the first time.

But this year, the full range of hip-hop, from backpackers to crunksters, is triumphant, and the most exciting stuff is from Texas. Paul Wall and the SwishaHouse crew. Dallas' wiseguy Money Waters. Houston-born Punjabi rapper Deep.

Texas is in the house. Will 2005 be the year that Lone Star hip-hop finally, finally gets large?

Into the mixtape

Matt Sonzala thinks so. The 33-year-old writer, promoter and radio host has been a Houston hip-hop scene-maker and devotee for years. He's helped book hip-hop at SXSW, and is largely responsible for coordinating this year's Texas talent. There are few folks in Texas hip-hop he can't get on the phone in minutes.

New Year's Eve last year, Sonzala launched Houston So Real (houstonsoreal.blogspot.com), a Web site devoted to Houston hip-hop.

"I started looking at some blogs by dudes in other states, talking about Chamillionaire and Slim Thug," Sonzala says. "I figured I could put up an MP3, a picture and some text like anyone else."

Thanks to a few excellent interviews with an insightful Scarface, a profoundly homophobic Bushwick Bill, and a smart, clever chat with Willie D — the core of the classic Geto Boys lineup — Houston So Real started clocking thousands of hits a day from all over the world.

Then again, one blog does not a scene make, and Sonzala thinks that it's the major recording labels' engagement with all Houston hip-hop — rather than just an artist or two — that's going to make the difference.

"There are multiple deals on the table," Sonzala says. "It's not just a Rap-A-Lot thing."

He also cites Houston's brisk trade in mixtapes — the homebrew albums that rappers and DJs and MCs put together with little or no label backing — as driving the latest stampede of major label interest. Mixtape sales are notoriously hard to track, but when Houston fans, anecdotally, seemed to be buying hundreds of thousands of units all by themselves, executives took notice.

"Houston (rap) didn't have to go out of Houston to make its money," Sonzala says. "There is no city that supports its own like Houston."

The Houston alternative

While Sonzala admits it's a little weird to see artists like Paul Wall and Chamillionaire the center of attention, he hopes the mix of Texas rap and SXSW's usual hipster fare will be good for, if nothing else, Austin hip-hop aesthetics, which he finds lacking.

"I think it's important for Houston artists to get a little Austin in them, and for Austin artists to get a little Houston in them," he says. "In Austin, you've still got I-35 dividing the city. It's screwed and chopped on one side and backpack on the other. And in Austin, I see a lot of the same names I've been seeing for years."

Twenty-three-year-old Austinite Rapid Ric (a.k.a. Ric Almeda) has been DJing since he was 14 in Del Rio. He's one of the few Texas DJs to show equal love to Austin rappers such as Bavu Blakes and Houston artists such as Slim Thug on his mixtapes.

"Backpackers offer an alternative to mainstream hip-hop," Ric says. "But Houston hip-hop is (also offering an alternative). I'm trying to create a buzz for anyone in Texas." Ric DJ's on Hot 93.3 for the show hosted by Duce-Duce on Mondays and Tuesdays from 10 p.m. to midnight and already breaks songs nationally.

There's more. The "Austin Hip-Hop Revolution" parties — one of which took place March 10 at Antone's — and the related "Urban Assault" radio show on KVRX are trying to bridge the Interstate 35 gap.

Carrying the torch

Paul Wall is another Houston rising star. A rap promoter in high school and a longtime fixture of the SwishaHouse crew, Wall signed to Asylum Records this past year. "The People's Champ," his major label debut, should hit stores in May.

"It's been a nice long crawl for me," Wall says. "I was 14 when I first started doing street promotions and DJing. The more people took to my music, the more they had a good vibe about me."

Wall and former partner Chamillionaire planted a stake in the Dirty South with 2002's "Get Your Mind Correct," endless appearances on nearly every album SwishaHouse release, and the now-defunct, all-star Houston rap act Color Changin' Clik. Wall's time is now, and he's sure that extends to Houston scene in general.

"Screw culture is so different from the rest of the nation that it was only a matter of time," Wall says, "But we're just the ones who are carrying the torch right now. We didn't light it; we're not gonna be the last ones to hold it."

Putting it another way, Sonzala imparts a little received wisdom: "As Bun B was telling me the other day, the pioneers get paid with the respect, and the younger cats get paid for real."

Chingo Bling couldn't agree more, but in a good sign for Texas rap, he couldn't be less like Wall. He avoids most of the sonic and lyrical trappings of thuggish Houston rap, and refuses to take his persona all that seriously. His wonderful 2004 debut album "The Tamale Kingpin" was an outta-left-field stunner, a smart and clever riff on all things Latino. His brand new "Chingo 4 President" is just as strong.

"I think I'm representing people like me, that 'Mexican American generation,' because those people are gonna have my back," Bling says. "It's a generation that loves hip-hop and at the same time they love where they come from and who they are. They may speak Spanish or they may not. There are a whole lot of us like that."

With his giant belt buckle, boots with a Nike swoosh, and "Air Chingo" logo, Bling may seem clownish, but he's a trickster in the classic mold.

"Humor is very important to me," Bling says. "Contrary to what a lot of people think about Southern hip-hop, the fans are not dumb. They can catch a lot of wordplay and a lot of wit and references. You have to give people substance; if there's no meat in it, I don't feel like I'm gonna get anything out of an album."

Like Sonzala, he's sure the potential for profit is attracting corporate attention to Houston hip-hop.

"As far as major labels go, they might not understand or like it," Bling says. "But they like that these guys are making money. That's what people respect."

For his part, Bling seems happy owning his own label and staying independent, even as he becomes a national figure. "Houston hip-hop is on the hero's journey, man," Bling says. "You have to leave where you're from, slay the dragon and come back home and celebrate."

Another Houston rapper who's spitting in the face of stereotypes is Deep, a 29-year old Houston native of Punjabi extract whom his parents named Amar- deep Basra. He's preternaturally polite on the phone and still goes to a Sikh temple. (He even has a skit on his new album, "In Trunks Now," in which he has to explain his ethnicity to a baffled hip-hop scene.)

He plays basketball with a national all-Asian league on a team called Outta Control Punjabis, but he doesn't want his rhymes to stay there.

"I do represent for the Punjabi people, but rather than playing the Asian league in hip-hop, I'd like to go to the NBA," Deep says.

A little rap from Big D

But what about that other big city, Dallas? Do they get any love?

There are some talented folks in Big D, but there's no question that on the national level, Dallas is definitely playing second fiddle. Play N Skillz, D.S.R. and Money Waters are all D-Town artists at SXSW this year. Money Waters' album "The Porch," from back in '03, is one of the most egregiously slept-on Texas hip-hop albums of our young century. Recorded over a number of years, "The Porch" is a blast, a funny and moving mix of old jokes, jus'-folks angst, party beats and grungy, old school funk. (Waters is playing with a full band at SXSW.)

"It's really hot in the South, so everybody tries to chill out on the porch rather than hanging in the yard," Waters, 27, says. "The porch signifies my window to the world. What I see from mine my not be the same as what you see from yours."

Waters' signature is the funk band that backs him. "When we hit the stage with the full band it's a whole 'nother show, you know?" Waters asks rhetorically. "It's a show! When them boys get on stage with me and them background singers. People are like, 'What's he doing? He think he Bobby Womack?' But they come around and they love it."

Houston, Austin, Dallas... coming to a stage near you.