44. Black Star - Mos Def & Talib Kweli Are Black Star

Mos Def and Talib Kweli want to advance hip-hop. They've seen what the genre can be, taken the pieces worth saving and left the materialism and violence behind. Their mission is to promote black culture without leaning on hypocrisy or stereotype. As Black Star, they attempt to redefine the genre they love before it fades from glory into a tired cliche.

Sonically, Black Star traffics in the jazz and hip-hop of New York's past, deeply inspired by Gil Scott Heron's soulful spoken word and KRS-One's outspoken politics. Thankfully, they temper their austere influences with a spirited verbal interplay that can be unbelievably quick-witted, meticulous and jocular.

The storytelling is evocative, utilizing vivid imagery that seems more at place on the page than the turntable. Tongue twisters abound, as both MCs strive to fill each bar with as much meaning as possible, yet they never sound winded or over stuff their verses. These vocal calisthenics are admirable, particularly when expressing complex themes like martyrdom, record label tyranny, inferiority complexes and social stratification.

"Thieves in the Night" takes on these matters brilliantly, chiding pity and striving for individualism, despite the fact that "captors own the masters" to everything Black Star writes. They understand that, as musicians, they'll have to cooperate with the record industry, but that doesn't impede their goal, which is to go beyond music as entertainment and expose society's hypocrisy. It's a noble and thoughtful effort that would sound highfalutin if its spokesmen weren't so ardent and astute. 

45. Ultramagnetic MCs - Critical Beatdown

As described in Paul Edwards' How to Rap, rapping, in its simplest terms, is a blend of content, flow and delivery. Basically, a musician would construct a rhyming poem detailing their emotions, which would then be conveyed through their vocal cadences.

Ultramagnetic MCs, led by chief lyricist, Kool Keith and part-time rapper/full-time producer, Ced-Gee, intentionally disrupted their content, flow and delivery, much like free jazz disrupted chord changes and tempo. What came from this break with conformity was both danceable and droll, a fully unique creation born from the deconstructed elements of hip-hop.

Kool Keith's odd delivery is like an off-kilter game of word association. As he barrels through verses at breakneck speed, he defames opposing MCs like a vivisectionist, chopping heads and dissecting bodies. He fashions himself a mad scientist, and he might be right, since his syncopated delivery and schlocky lyrical content may have given life to the gory absurdity of horrorcore and the abstract spaciness that would shape rappers like Del the Funky Homosapien and El-P.

Keith's partner-in-crime, Ced-Gee, produces the record with a similarly skewed vision. As chaotic as the Bomb Squad, Gee layers each track with tinnitus-inducing vocal squeals, hyper-kinetic samples and skittish record scratching. His take on funk has more in common with the "chopped and screwed" mixtape movement than Sly Stone, since an organ blip or random synth beat can explode out of nowhere and repeat endlessly, giving the LP an almost nervous energy.

It's this verve and sense of adventure that have made Critical Beatdown so timeless. Kool Keith and Ced-Gee purposely tried to subvert hip-hop cliché and reconstruct its language and sound. What they actualized was made of hip-hop's puzzle pieces, but alien in its construct and presentation.

46. The Pharcyde - Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde

A Bizarre Ride indeed.

The Pharcyde's debut is a cartoonish collage of mischief, unabashed libido and comically high-pitched vocal delivery. Interested more in making their audience smirk than inflating their egos, Fat Lip and company playfully walk the line between funny and over-the-top obscene, never to be taken to seriously, unless they're ridiculing your mother or hawking your girlfriend.

Sonically, J-Swift's lively production is forward thinking, while still digging deeply into the hip-hop and jazz that came before. Piano samples and celebratory horn point towards John Coltrane and ATCQ as reference points, but those boisterously shouted group choruses make me think Black Flag might have snuck onto the tape deck during group smoke sessions. Luckily, a little weed didn't distract from the goal, which was to gently rib sell outs and make dirty jokes.

Their most successful joke is "Officer," a hysterical take on Public Enemy's "Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos," transferring indignation concerning the American military and penal system to the palpable West Coast equivalent, the Department of Motor Vehicles. I know, it's rather irreverent, but civil unrest needed to be reflected through their unified voice, even if it is in relation to parking tickets.

Bizarre Ride's greatest feat is its depiction of that singular viewpoint. The Pharcyde are secure enough with themselves to be goofballs, skewering the cliché that rappers are infallible supermen. They smoke too much weed, get their licenses suspended and can't seem to pull the cutest girl in school. It's this relatability that makes them so compelling.

47. OutKast - Aquemini

Big Boi and Andre 3000 were dying to expand hip-hop's palette. They saw an opening for a distinctly Southern voice, one that loved Delta blues as much as it loved Detroit soul. A voice that wasn't afraid to show the cowardice of violent crime in an era when most rappers fashioned themselves as Tony Montana wannabes. Most importantly, a voice that was capable of making you think, laugh and shake your ass all at the same time.

Lyrically, both men are capable of nostalgia, whether it be remembering their humble roots or well wishing for a drug-addled childhood pal. This sentimentality seeps into their production, which has the scope of great 70's funk and the lush body that only live instrumentation can provide. George Clinton's influence is obvious, even beyond his readymade guest appearance. It'd be hard to imagine  "SpottieOttieDopaliscious" and its big horns and opening falsetto vocals without Funkadelic's musical thumbprint.

Yet, Aquemini is distinctly OutKast, down to the trademarked speedy, but fluent, vocal delivery and oft-hilarious turn of phrase. Whether comparing the cash game to the culinary arts or giving you a minute to marinate on their double entendres, Big Boi and Dre demand full attention from their audience and a willingness to see beyond the trappings of genre. Luckily, we wouldn't have it any other way.

48. Mobb Deep - The Infamous

Mobb Deep makes urgent, desperate music. Rarely do they relish the spoils of a life of crime, focusing more on the need to make money at any cost and the danger of getting caught doing it. Their world is a paranoid one, full of snitches copping pleas, police on the prowl and competition lurking in every alley.

They may paint a bleak picture, but Havoc and Prodigy are exceptional storytellers, layering each track with real characters, believable stories and even traces of self-doubt. One of their finest moments is "Up North Trip," an often sad depiction of how jail time affects the inmate and the family they left behind. It's these details that separate Mobb Deep from the bevy of faceless mid-90s "gangsta" rappers.

Their sound even strays from the status quo. Havoc handles the production brilliantly, maintaining a sonic continuity birthed from classic New York jazz and merged with menacing piano loops and a feverish sense of dread. It's to his credit that he crafted a focused piece with so many collaborators (i.e. Q-Tip's guest production, Nas, Ghostface and Raekwon verses), but with a crushing drum track in the forefront on nearly every song, most contributors are forced to coalesce with the beat.

The end result is an authentic slice of Queens crime "fiction." The Infamous is free of cheesy party tracks, pop hooks or moralistic backpedaling. It's completely honest about its intentions and depicts street crime at its most dehumanizing.