Black Star

Released

One of the underheralded aspects of the first — and, for 24 years, only — full-length collab between Mos Def and Talib Kweli is that it not just embodied but reconciled the contrasts of the indie rap world. Aside from the wildly different yet complementary styles both MCs provided — Mos as the savvily bemused voice of observational wisdom, Kweli providing the nagging-conscience urgency of a lifelong campaigner — there’s other fascinating backpacker dualities at work. They’re retro preservationists who homage the old school (an Adidas-on-cardboard throwback “B Boys Will B Boys”) and found contemporary mainstream rappers wanting in the face of Slick Rick-ian golden era mores (using the ironic move of rewriting “Children’s Story” to mock derivative style-jackers). But they also wrote a potential alternate future where ’92-style jazz-laced boom bap could sound as hi-fi and Tunnel-ready and hooky as anything on ’98 Bad Boy (Da Beatminerz-produced “Astronomy (8th Light)” especially), while Hi-Tek’s beats hit on a reflectively meditative yet hard-bumping sense of motion that a lot of indie rap record production would resemble five years down the line. And their lyrical themes, delivered with a complexity that never foregoes clarity, refuse easy-target didacticism: alongside the conflicted moods of their “Definition”/”RE:DEFinition” diptych, there’s also the acknowledgement of self (“K.O.S. (Determination)”) as a means to turn individualistic pride outwards to a communally uplifting teaching effort, even as cuts like “Hater Players” drop ruthless condemnation on anyone who’d doubt the pride these MCs actually possess for their own talents. It all peaks with Common collab “Respiration” — the greatest rap track ever recorded about the struggle to love a city that may not love you back.

Nate Patrin

This record, one of the high points of an era when record label Rawkus was bringing visibility to ostensibly underground rap music, paired the charismatic MC Mos Def and the insightful rapper Talib Kweli, who together created a classic, era-defining LP. Though a follow-up album has long been rumored, this feels more like a one-off collaboration, with solo tracks by each artist interspersed with some collaborative efforts. If you’re looking for an entry point into the independent hip-hop of the cypher era, the dual moods of “Definition,” a triumphant slice of braggadocio, and “RE:DEFinition,” a moody critique of society’s ills, will set you on the right course. Perhaps the album’s best track is “Respiration,” a beautiful lament on the confining nature of the urban environment featuring a never-better Common.

Nate LeBlanc