Often the most successful personas of contemporary hip hop rely not on musicianship or innovation, but glossy, packaged facades. Some concur, while others are coerced. Big beats and anthemic production generate profitable results, if only for one summer. Concurrently, magazines depend on promoting that image by probing an artist's victories and failures, usually personal. The beef, discontent and conflict highlight a rap personality, if only for one issue. This is what distinguishes Talib Kweli from his hip hop colleagues. You don't hear his songs in regular rotation. He doesn't simultaneously grace the cover of every hip hop magazine and he isn't guest-hosting shows on MTV. Someday, perhaps. The thing about Kweli, though, is that he will never need to. The most effective marketing campaign executed on his behalf has been the word of mouth that surrounds his albums, collaborations and live shows. Underground fans have been down for years, and with the dominant Jay-Z citing his lyrical skills, a stamp of approval from the media seems an afterthought. I met the MC during his recent cross-country expedition with the Beastie Boys, arguably one of his biggest tours. In terms of publicity, Talib Kweli did not need this article. And I wanted to avoid redundancy. Surely we had something to offer each other.

"One thing I would like to see more of in hip hop journalism is actually talking about the music; the structure in music and why songs are made. But magazines are not really about music because they're in the business of selling artists like the record labels are and so they have to sell the personality of the artist. So that's what ends up being [the focus of] the questions. I look forward to the day when it can be more about music." From the park to profit and battles to bureaucracy, there are several theories as to how hip hop has shifted its focus from a labor of love to the pursuit of paper. Both driven and defined by their contributions, the earliest artists stood to gain respect, not royalties. There was once a time when rap wasn't even recorded. Today a persona is necessary to push an album as a product, instead of an expression. In business terms, it seems almost foolish, rather than selfish, to naturally create music. Even the organic Kweli admits to seeking a particular result on 2002's Quality, "I was trying to make certain songs." Despite critical acclaim that has followed his many projects, Talib Kweli, unlike so many others, has yet to go platinum or win a Grammy. He remains anonymous in that famous sort of way, making one wonder what concoction of give and take will push him to the next level as a solo artist. Uncertainty aside, he hasn't grown too comfortable to stop creating. Not only is honesty key to growth, but evident in Kweli's lyrics, from the Black Star days to his latest, The Beautiful Struggle. "With this album, I let the music dictate." Hip hop is entering the era of the producer, so how does a lyricist keep words at the forefront of music? "I think I try to approach it, the lyrics, like they're an instrument. When I first started, the lyrics was all I had. I didn't have any beats. When I started getting music, I had to learn how to write lyrics to the music and I'm still learning. I'm still a student of that." Kweli's songs are often fed by pulsating beats that match thick bass lines, while his rhymes range from gritty (but not barren) to celebratory (but not oblivious). Variety is combined to place the listener in a setting. At first take, you are both invited and invoked to familiarize yourself with the content and absorb his reason for explaining. And the job has its perks. Motivation to write can come at any time, but Kweli gets the ink flowing in the company of hip hop's most imaginative, "Yesterday I participated in a movie shoot with Dave Chappelle, Mos Def and the Fugees, Common, Jill Scott, dead prez, Kanye. That was pretty inspirational."

Although ideas and opinions take shape in verses, don't expect it to get preachy. The music speaks for itself and he simply steps back and lets it do the talking, which may explain why he doesn't give rambling answers in interviews. What stands out most is his conviction. You actually believe that he believes what he's talking about. In return, you trust his artistic method and resolution. "What I feel like I've been able to contribute is the idea that I can just be myself. Hip hop is big enough and beautiful enough so that I can just be who I am as an individual. I don't have to pretend to be somebody else to be successful." With authenticity, Talib Kweli has gained a reliable following. He is an MC who rhymes for the sake of exploration, not exploitation. No overexposed marketing campaign necessary. Just an even exchange between people who make music and those who appreciate it. Surely less complicated than I originally anticipated.