When word hit that Talib Kweli had dropped longtime producer and Reflection Eternal bandmate DJ Hi-Tek for his upcoming release in favor of a more commercially viable roster of producers, you could almost hear a collective sigh rise up from the hip-hop community. Tek's quirky, jazz-informed productions provided an ideal sound platform for Talib's literate meditations on growing up in a marginalized culture. Underground classics like "2000 Seasons", "Fortified Live", and "Some Kind of Wonderful" radiated an emotionally immediacy and political awareness that was largely absent from mid-to-late-90s hip-hop. While Talib's new beatmakers (which include Kayne West and DJ Quik) are amongst the hottest and most creatively viable in the game, the fear was that their slicker and generally more aggressive styles would somehow taint the honesty and intimacy that has been key to Talib's success.
While Quality may lack the basement charms of Tek's finest, it more than compensates by employing a funkier and more upbeat sound palate to further draw out the nuances of what is already one of the most rounded and complete rap personas in the game. What makes this record one of the best hip-hop albums of the year is its combination of maturity and joy, two emotions the genre rarely explores, much less simultaneously. Although these qualities have been evident in all of Talib's work, the infusion of new blood (particularly that of Kayne West) accentuates and revitalizes the message. Whether expressing the bliss of childbirth with Mos Def on "Joy" or stating the simple pleasures of everyday life on "Shock Body", Talib has got "rhymes so bright that the sunshine beams through it."
Even Talib's elation here strikes as sophisticated, distinguishing itself from the materialistic acquisitions, drug binges and sexual conquests that pass for contentment on many hip-hop albums, with a spiritual center attained through an on-record intellectual honesty and emotional transparency that's still rare in a culture that feeds off inflated stereotypes of machismo posturing and stands on the political platform of fatalism and resignation. In fact, Kweli's unabashed positivity and emotional vulnerability feel almost transgressive to these ears. Even when he confronts the ills of society, as he does on the wrenching "Where Do We Go" and "Stand to the Side", there's a certain optimism and belief that by illuminating the darkness through hip-hop, we can hope to transcend the pain.
"I wanna write a way/ I want it right here/ I want to write brave words to fight fear.../ My words apply the pressure to make the bleeding stop," Talib raps on "Stand to the Side". Cynics may label social-change-via-music as a naïve proposition and focus solely on the music's form rather than its content, privileging MC's with buttery flows but with nothing to say. I still believe in the power of hip-hop music and culture to affect social change, and the genre's new generation has no greater prophet than Talib.
