“I always try to bring artists together who have extremely different fanbases,” says experimental, hip-hop vocalist Nomi, “And seeing this dope mesh of people that normally wouldn’t socialize—I’m really attracted to that.”

On Jan. 4, Nomi presents a musical, visual and fashion mashup at Tonic that’s becoming typical of the events she curates. Besides the increasingly chamber-pop and folk-flavored hip-hop hybrid of Nomi’s own band—which features Antony and the Johnsons drummer Todd Cohen, cellist/orchestral producer Marlan Barry, as well as “really trippy” atmospheric guitar, acoustic guitar and theramin—the show also features Bunny Rabbit and DJ High Priest.

Aside from having unique acts that snap, crackle and pop as a package, each of the three performers comes with colorful backstories. An eccentric firebrand lesbian MC and self-proclaimed “object of spiritual, emotional and sexual consecration in the great tradition of Jesus, Abe Lincoln and Whitney Houston,” Bunny Rabbit honed her rhyme chops on the then-filthy streets of North Brooklyn in the ’80s. When she met her DJ and life partner, Black Cracker, Bunny’s Ministry of Benevolent Perversion was born. With beats she describes as “hallucinogenic dark,” Bunny wants to induce a state of “deep-seated shame and inexorable ass-shaking.” (We wouldn’t have our shame any other way.) Meanwhile, not to be out-done, DJ High Priest brings what Nomi describes as “this crazy visual, kind of sci-fi” turntable set-up from Japan (you’ll just have to see it for yourself) along with credentials as a member of Death Comet Crew and Jean Michel Basquiat’s band GRAY (which also featured Vincent Gallo).

As for Nomi, she, like Bunny Rabbit, is a Brooklyn native who brings a sweetly seductive and soulful, melodic approach to the hard-scrabble hip-hop attitude that she was immersed in as a youth. (Nomi also has a yen for fashion design, which factors prominently in her onstage presentation.) Although she’s been recording music since she was 12, Nomi, not unlike many urban Puerto Ricans who grew up when rap was a gestating, underground form, wasn’t exposed to many different types of music during her formative years. But she’s making up for it now with her gleeful eclecticism and a hunger to uncover as many new styles as she can. Her upcoming sophomore album, Borough Gypsy, will reflect the creative re-awakening she’s experienced of late thanks to all the new sounds she’s been taking-in.

She describes the album as the “beautiful middle ground” that she seeks to find between her more atmospheric leanings and “that really hard-pounding, hip-hop rhythm” that still forms the backbone of her work. From the beginning, however, the husky soulfulness of her voice, which draws not-unfair comparisons to Sade, has always contrasted with the roughness that continues to draw her to hip-hop.

“Certain women, like Mary J. Blige, had that raw energy and blended it to their sound,” she explains. “I wanted to capture that energy and blend it with a soft, dreamy vocal—more like storytelling. I was attracted to that contrast.”

Jan. 4. Tonic, 107 Norfolk St. (betw. Essex & Suffolk Sts.),

212-358-7501; 8, $8.