KRS-One did it. So did Mos Def and Bob Marley. And Marvin Gaye before that. Thirty-plus years ago when Gaye asked a generation “What’s Going On?”, he was disturbed by humankinds ability to avoid honest conversations about serious issues. Fast forward to 2004 and k-os is asking similar questions, and like Gaye, he’s both trying to warn us of the perils of humanity and get you on the dance floor simultaneously. It’s a rare feat, but on Joyful Rebellion, the follow-up to his much lauded debut Exit, there’s good reason to believe that k-os won’t have to sneak up and take the rap  world by storm anymore or have paid publicists toot his horn as much. Fielding personal invites to tour the US with Grammy winner India Arie, and perform spot European and Canadian tour dates with other Grammy victors The Roots and Nelly Furtado can do that. However, what was even more impressive was that sitting slightly below 50 Cent sightlines at last years The Source Magazine Awards, K-os, then a virtual unknown in America, snagged International Album of the Year honours. While this was not at all surprising to folks in his hometown where he’d already won numerous awards at the Urban X-Posure Awards (Canada’s equivalent to the Soul Train Music Awards) for Best Rap Recording (“Heaven Only Knows”) or best video award (“Superstarr Pt. Zero”), it marked a watershed moment for contemporary hip hop. For once, music mattered more than marketing budgets or where an emcee hails from, and it proved that consumers hadn’t lost their ability to discern real talent from media hype.

While the critical beatdown commercial rap has endured has pushed some of the music’s brightest lights into flight or fight mode, it’s clear that on Joyful  k-os intentionally chose the latter. “Hip hop is an abandoned ship, and its vanguards are moving on to other things,” admits k-os, who recently collaborated with The Chemical Brothers on their “Get Yourself High” hit and who’s “Superstarr Pt. Zero” track was rated Next and Buzz-worthy by both BET and MTV. “The four elements of hip hop are life, so I can’t do that. It’s like abandoning a religion. Everyone wants to be a rock star, because they don’t know how to take hip hop to the next level”. On “B-boy Stance” k-os does just that going black to the future to craft a must-hear opus that sonically sounds like it could have been recorded during rap’s Golden Age. It’s timeless, yet dated. And lyrically, the music, DJ’s, dancers and graffiti writers all get their just due. One might even call it 80’s Revival Rap. Whatever  the case, after a few listens you might either spontaneously bust out and breakdance or end up howling “I want the 80’s back!”.

Critics often ask “have dope rhymes become a thing of the past”? Well, on “Emcee Murdah” k-os addresses that issue directly too. On the catchy hook, he raps that “money and fame, could lead to emcee murder” implying that if rappers could somehow diversify their singular focus from profits to prophets then there might be hip hope. As the symphonic strings, k-os scratchy vocal tmbre and acoustic guitar strums crescendo to a fever pitch, you get a great sampling of the sense of urgency with which k-os raps out of. In fact most cuts on Joyful could be loosely described as concerto’s of the desperado.

To call Joyful a straight up rap release might be misleading. Like Exit ,  Joyful is stripped down and raw like his thoughts. Some acoustic guitars and tabla’s here, classical strings and 808 drum kicks there. This sonic experience seamlessly runs the gamut from rap to folk to reggae. And much like the artist he’s often compared to, Lauryn Hill, Joyful is a testament to his rare ability to harmonize and emcee ignoring any creative straitjackets; creating songs that live outside of simplistic rap and R&B binaries.

On “Crucial” you witness k-os’ Caribbean (he’s Trinidad born) roots reggae leanings, and much like The Police hits of yesteryear it showcases his abilities to incorporate hardcore reggae elements into pure pop songs. Where “Hallelujah” inhabits a mythic, introspective world where Bob Dylan-meets-Bob Marley for a dark modern day redemption song, the acoustic Latin guitar hop of “Commandante” (a song he wrote in Veradero, Cuba) still finds its way back to k-os’ rap mission to “cut and slice irrelevance to the bone, and decapitate rappers that idolize Al Capone.”
 
Whether you choose to call any of the 13 songs “roots rap”, “folk-rap soul”, or just straight up “hip hop”, there’s no debating that each song is genetically engineered for airplay. K-os’ has always considering himself an underdog because he’s producing hip hop music from outside of rap’s birthplace. The way the world and his own community views his art shapes much of the subtext of k-os’ lyrical commentary. On the most musical of Joyful’s offerings, “Crabbuckit” he speaks to the “crabs in the bucket” phenomenon that once threatened to derail his commitment to his rap dreams—before the awards and acclaim. “If everyone in your hometown is indie and underground and no ones yet swam to the surface, they start to have low self esteem, underachieve and believe it can’t be done,” relates k-os who thinks radically otherwise. As the upright bass stabs, gospel hand claps and horns solo’s accessorize k-os vocal plea that there’s “no time to get down, ‘cause I’m movin’ up”, his message becomes that much more believable. Likewise, the “The Love Song”, a memorable symphonic sonnet serves as a heartfelt tribute to societal underdogs everywhere who might not see the light.

Arguably the most lethal and interesting of this collection of songs of joy and rebellion is “Papercutz”, a talk-back song directed at critics who hung off his every word and wondered aloud about his decision to record another album despite saying Exit  would be his first and last. Easily the most experimental track of the lot, it’s a song about musical and personal evolution and redemption, and features rhyme contributions from the only artist he’s collaborated with on his two albums to date, spoken word prodigy Kamau. The upright bass blasts, mariachi horns and double time raps, pushes this track over rap boundaries and might prove that words can be mightier than swords. Joyful Rebellion is all about supersize rhymes that ooze with phat, and rewriting rap music rule books. If you want a rap album featuring extremely redundant ideas rehashed for the nth time, you might want to go elsewhere. If your jonesing for an album that assaults mediocrity, then you’ve come to the right place.