Each Sunday I’m going to talk about a different artist, past and present that has inspired me in a different way. Music is a huge part of life in general, whether you’re religious or not, you can see an importance in music that transcends a lot of other art forms.

This Sunday I wanted to spotlight an artist that some people have heard of, but others have not even noticed. I’m talking about Talib Kweli.

Talib Kweli is a hip hop artist that speaks a little bit differently than your idea of what rap or hip hop is. He does not write lyrics over beats about big rims, diamonds, pearls, chains, or anything that you think about when you consider the musical endeavors of rap or hip hop. It is not lyrical cnn about the ghetto, but rather it is a mixed bag of political messages, life in general, and a certain spark of creativity that looks more like a personal blog than it does hip hop.

Some might consider Kweli the biggest name in “alternative” hip hop, or a underground heavyweight, but he’s definitely made his name known through the mainstream as well. Being featured on Chapelle’s show, or teamed up with hip hop and actor Mos Def (Black Star).

I liken listening to Talib Kweli like a little history lesson, throwing muses into a barrel of understanding that is not unlike listening to a famous speech from a revolutionary, without losing sight of how to speak a message to the masses. Not just dry rhetoric, but more over a conscious example of what is going on in the streets, as well as the cubicle land hell that I find myself in on many weeks.

Here, for example is a music video for “Get By” but first…the lyrics to the song…

We smell the musk at the dusk in the crack of the dawn
We go through “Epidodes II,” like “Attack of the Clones”
Work ’til we break our back and you hear the crack of the bone
To get by.. just to get by
Just to get by, just to get by
We commute to computers
Spirits stay mute while you eagles spread rumors
We survivalists, turned to consumers
To get by.. just to get by
Just to get by, just to get by
Ask Him why some people got to live in a trailer, cuss like a sailor
I paint a picture with the pen like Norman Mailer
Me Abuela raised three daughters all by herself, with no help
I think about a struggle and I find the strength in myself
These words, melt in my mouth
They hot, like the jail cell in the South
Before my nigga Core bailed me out
To get by.. just to get by
Just to get by, just to get by
We do or die like Bed-Stuy through the red sky
with the window of the red eye
Let the lead fly, some G. Rap shit, “Livin’ to Let Die”

[Chorus: Background singers]
This morning, I woke up
Feeling brand new and I jumped up
Feeling my highs, and my lows
In my soul, and my goals
Just to stop smokin, and stop drinkin
And I’ve been thinkin - I’ve got my reasons
Just to get (by), just to get (by)
Just to get (by), just to get (by)

[Verse 2: Talib]
We keeping it gangster say “fo shizzle”, “fo sheezy” and “stayin crunk”
Its easy to pull a breezy, smoke trees, and we stay drunk
Yo, our activism attackin the system, the blacks and latins in prison
Numbers of prison they victim black in the vision
Shit and all they got is rappin to listen to
I let them know we missin you, the love is unconditional
Even when the condition is critical, when the livin is miserable
Your position is pivotal, I ain’t bullshittin you
Now, why would I lie? Just to get by?
Just to get by, we get fly
The TV got us reachin for stars
Not the ones between Venus and Mars, the ones that be readin for parts
Some people get breast enhancements and penis enlargers
Saturday sinners Sunday morning at the feet of the Father
They need somethin to rely on, we get high on all types of drug
When, all you really need is love
To get by.. just to get by
Just to get by, just to get by
Our parents sing like John Lennon, “Imagine all the people watch”
We rock like Paul McCartney from now until the last Beatle drop

[Chorus: Background singers]
This morning, I woke up
Feeling brand new and I jumped up
Feeling my high’s, and my low’s
In my soul, and my goals
Just to stop smoking, and stop drinking
And I’ve been thinking - I’ve got my reasons
Just to get (by), just to get (by)
Just to get (by), just to get (by)

[Talib: repeat 2x - with background singers]
Yoyoyo, yo
Some people cry, and some people try
Just to get by, for a piece of the pie
You love to eat and get high
We decieve when we lie, and we keepin it fly

Yoyoyo, yo
When, the people decide, to keep a disguise
Can’t see they eyes, see the evil inside
But there’s people you find
Strong or feeble in mind, I stay readin the signs

That appears on the Album “Quality” which came out a couple years back, but is still relevant this day.

Now I’m not sitting here saying that Talib Kweli is the answer to anybodies problems, or that listening to his music will make you a better person, but what I am saying is that in a world full of media driven musical endeavors that feature more talk about pimps, swagger, gold chains and style, Kweli is offering a mixture of lyricism with a brain that should be heard by a larger audience…it’s sad that more people don’t open their eyes and listen.

But then again, music like this doesn’t appeal to a large audience that would rather watch television than read a book. A nation that is so numb to the human experience, that things of matter slip by.

I too am guilty.

In the latest video from Kweli, we see a double edged sword on this track “Hostile Gospel” from his latest effort Ear Drum, here’s the lyrics followed by the Video…

Deliver us, deliver us (Yeah)
Deliver us, deliver us (What? Yeah)

[Talib Kweli]
And what the people say? We wanna live it up
And what the people want? Please deliver us
And what the people need? Hey…
I got that, yeah

I call these rappers baby seals, cause they club you to death
I could call ‘em Navy SEALs, cause they government feds
What become of the vets? They drugged up, they fucked up, they in debt
There ain’t no love and no respect, it’s like a gang it’s like a club or a set
Hip-Hop’s the new WWF
What do you rap or do you wrestle? Niggaz love to forget
We got til it’s gone, you think you on, you still hustlin backwards
Your topical norm a tropical storm, it’s a fuckin disaster
Back to the topic we on, it all started at Rawkus
They couldn’t find the words to describe me so they resort to the shortcuts
Is he a backpacker? Is he a mad rapper?
An entertainer or the author of the last chapter
We living in these times of love and cholera
Synonymous with the apocalypse, look up the clouds is ominous
We got maybe ten years left say meteorologists, shit
We still waitin for the Congress to acknowledge this~!

What the people want? Please deliver us
We wanna live it up, please deliver us
Th-th-this is the, th-th-this is the, this is the hostile gospel
I’m reaching through the fire - please deliver us
I’m preaching to the choir - please deliver us
Just keep it real with us, you scared to spill your blood
Your words rung hollow, we need someone to follow

You ain’t promised tomorrow, so get your paper up
You can’t always just borrow and asks for favors bruh
Stand on your own two, never covet thy neighbor’s stuff
Karma’s a bitch so watch your mouth and what you sayin bruh
I start a conversation based on general observation
Hip-Hop is not a nation, take it to population
Niggaz got a lot to say when locked inside the belly of Satan
Awaitin trial debatin how the hell I got placed in this system
Am I a victim or just a product of indoctrination?
They exploit it and use me like a movie with product placement
You hear the congregation; this is the hostile gospel
The truth is hard to swallow it’ll leave you scarred tomorrow
Keep it honest our motto, these niggaz keep it bottled
I’m the writer who reach the fighters like speeches by Cus D’Amato
DJs stickin to vinyl like “Fuck Serato”
Suppliers who ride around the block, in the custom models
Ballin like the struck the lotto you know who the cleanest is
A nigga keep it reeich with the stitch and greedy geniuses
I’m not a hipster, but I flip it like a sneaker pimp
Expose the game, treat it like a bitch
Smack fire out these hoes, cause they snitch and tap wires while I plead the fifth
You can’t trust a soul in the biz, so be careful who you eatin with
and sleepin with and also who you chiefin with
You never know they might’ve added in secret ingredients

Freedom’s a road that’s seldom traveled, watch hell unravel
Right before the eyes of the soldier who fell in battle
The single mother who raised her daughter to bear the sacred water
And not take the hand of every man who make a offer
To black kids wishin they white kids, when they close they eyelids
Like, “I bet they neighborhood ain’t like this”
White kids wishin they black kids, and wanna talk like rappers
It’s all backwards it’s identity crisis
The industry inside us is vipers with fangs trying to bite us
Drug suppliers is the health care providers
We cakin, makin narcotics outta household products
We ain’t workin out ’til we exorcise the demons that’s inside us
Plus they seem to just provide us with enough rope to hang ourselves
Enough dope to slang ourselves, enough toast to bang ourselves
It’s officially nigga season, these niggaz is bleedin
That’s why I’m spittin freedom we had enough of trigger squeezin

[Outro: singer]
In these tryin days and times
All I need is to be free
I can’t do it on my own
Lord can you deliver me?
There are trials still to come
It’s salvation that I need
So I’m reachin to the sky
Lord can you deliver me?
Deliver us…
Deliver us, yeah
Deliver us, ohhhhhhhhhh
Oh, deliver us
Deliver us
Ohhhhh Deliver us yes
Deliver us, deliver us, deliver us
Yeah yeah yeah, ohhhhhhhhhh…

Here is the video…

All this to say that on a lazy Sunday, after the churches are cleared out, and you’re tired of the same old Rob & Big reruns on MTV, why not open your ears and hear what a lot of people are missing, or just read a book.