The problem with pioneering a new kind of party hip-hop is that it’s hard to stop partying and do an interview at lunch-time, as a tired and emotional Yo Majesty are discovering. One half of Florida’s female rap duo has slept but the other has been out enjoying the nightlife of London till dawn and now can’t face speaking to me: they argue until the buxom and bossy Jwl B hurls a glass of vodka and cranberry towards the sulky Shunda K’s hotel-room door. It is slammed in our faces. “You got the Devil in you, you spoilt little bitch,” screams Jwl, as her drink streams down the white paint looking ominously like blood.

Still, if anything it’s a relief to see such melodrama close up, because listening to the music of Yo Majesty can leave you boggling at all their contradictions. Two Southern American lesbians who make such brilliant, filthy tunes about kryptonite pussies and pumping parties, who strip off during live shows but won’t get off-stage without talking to their audiences about the power of the Lord? The group quitting for a time while one of them went off to marry a man after getting into Islam? They’re underground superstars but have signed to overground label Domino, home to the Arctic Monkeys? Why, it’s almost heartwarming to see that the contradictions confuse them too.

The music, however, is nothing but riotous, explosive, booty-shaking fun. “It’s all about having a good time,” says a calmer Jwl B down the phone a few days later. “Yo Majesty is a new era of hip-hop, but we are still hip-hop. Instead of talking about negative stuff, we’d rather talk about positive stuff. I’d rather listen to a dance band than music that makes people want to go kill themselves. We believe in a god, equality and freedom, not being afraid to be yourself. We just us being us. We ain’t from the suburbs, we from the hood. We just crunk like that.”

And Yo Majesty are not the only women bringing the party back to the block. In the past few years, it seemed the only new direction for hip-hop was a more conscious one. Sales of 50 Cent’s mindless bling rap dwindled while the focus shifted to the college rap of Kanye West and Lupe Fiasco, who talk about where diamonds come from rather than just showing off about how many they’ve got. But you can’t always dance to politics. What Yo Majesty are doing, as well as the other musicians that they see as their peers (“We love Amanda Blank, Santogold, MIA”), is much more exciting; writing songs in three hours and performing them late at night in a messy DIY club scene. These women are all defining their own sexuality and sexiness. And they’re clever enough not to inflate their egos like certain of their male contemporaries.

Take Amanda Blank, a singer and rapper from Philadelphia who is part of the Baltimore scene. “How seriously can I take myself?” she has asked. “People know I’ll do anything just to tell the story the next day. But you can’t always have a message. People are over it, they want to hear something that will make them move.”

Then there’s Kid Sister and Rye Rye, two other American ladies rapping with a deliciously mellifluous flow. And the party isn’t limited to the US. Go to any warehouse rave or nightclub gig in East London and you might well find a girl rapper on the bill, using lo-fi electro sounds and an indie aesthetic to get the audience moving.

Miss Oddkidd, real name Natalie Stanley, is one of them, a 27-year-old whose forthcoming single is called Don’t Be Afraid to Sweat. She plays in venues she describes as “these blank-canvas warehouses with no proper bar and only one toilet”, and has turned the “Ooh aah, I lost my bra” playground rhyme into a cheeky song about her little sister copping off with her boyfriend. “It’s just vibes, it’s a funny story. With somebody like MIA, yeah, she’s got a message but the back-drop to that is party beats. And with the Brazilian baile funk music, I haven’t got a clue what they are saying but the flow’s there, the energy, the hooks.”

She will be included on a new French compilation, Girl Powder, to be released in November, that claims to celebrate “all these amazing girls doing their music with enthusiasm and pride. Kneel down boys!”

Oddkidd doesn’t produce her own beats though – one person who helps her with that is Goldielocks, who will also feature on the compilation. Goldielocks is influenced by the darker sounds of the grime-rap scene, among other things. She also raps about her little brother and his mates hanging around outside Sainsbury’s in Croydon and asks the Government what they expect the youth to do. And while she has fabulously long blonde hair and loves wearing 1980s fashion, she is more interested in making sure the club night she runs has a “really happy energy, not just a pretentious look at what each other is wearing”.

So why are so many women now rapping? Partly because bedroom technology has eased their access into the music industry. Partly because in recent years ground-breaking records have been made by Peaches, MIA and Missy Elliott. And partly because female rap has been alive and well for decades, actually. In London alone, in the 1980s and 1990s the Cookie Crew, Neneh Cherry, Wee Papa Girl Rappers and Monie Love all enjoyed chart success with forthright, catchy tunes. Now the trend has come full circle. It’s time for the ladies to get this party started again.

Yo Majesty’s Futuristically Speaking Never Be Afraid is out on Sept 29 2008 on Domino

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