Saul Williams is a man with his thumb in a lot of pies. Perhaps the most famous slam poet on the scene, the venerable Williams has also served as rapper, singer, writer, actor and on at least a few occasions, preacher. Most recently, he has taken up the cause of Digital Rights Management-free music with the release of The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of Niggy Tardust. Following the now oft-referenced In Rainbows release model, Williams has opted to distribute the new album via his Web site (niggytardust.com) with optional payment.

Even if you're not familiar with Williams' work, his name might sound familiar for another reason. Come Jan. 19, Williams will perform in Spingold as part of VOCAL 2008, a spoken word concert to raise funds for afterschool programs in Waltham. The event will include an array of other world-class slam poets such as Carlos Andrés Gómez and Buddy Wakefield, but as the date draws near, Williams is sure to cause the most buzz. As event organizer Jason Simon-Bierenbaum '11 put it, Williams is "that poet who people think of when they think of spoken word, always innovating and doing something new, constantly breathing life into the art."

Not unlike the new album, the concert will be free to students with a suggested donation. If the event proves similar to Williams' album, we can all expect an amazing spoken word concert next semester, as Niggy Tardust is a truly innovative, provocative and roundly listenable work of sonic art. The album was produced by Trent Reznor, who seems to become a more respectable elder statesman of music with every project he undertakes.

The appeal of the album comes from the near flawless blend of slam-influenced hip-hop beats and lyrics, combined with Reznor's digitalized rock edge. Williams has described the project as a love child between himself and Reznor. His synthesis of styles provides a unique approach to the world of sample-based music-making. The sampling is heavy yet tasteful and usually has an editorial purpose. The third track, "Tr(n)igger," is largely taken from Public Enemy's "Welcome to the Terrordome," and the fourth track is a cover of U2's "Sunday Bloody Sunday" with some much-needed additions.

In both cases, the common ethical issues presented by sampling are washed away by the crucial re-contextualization of both songs in the broader scheme of the album as a whole. "Sunday Bloody Sunday" comes off less as a cover as it does a creative, extended quotation. Plus, as much as I hate U2, I could never resist the infectiousness of that song, so I am more than glad that someone was able to make a better version of it.

As the title may suggest, Niggy Tardust is artistically and lyrically occupied with condemnation of racial epitaphs. This is also obviously a reference to David Bowie's Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, a concept album that tells the vague story of a Martian who comes to Earth to liberate humans from banality. Yet it also relates to Bowie as more than just a clever play on words, as Williams presents a story of an individual coming forth to liberate a people. The album makes further allusion to the golden age of George Clinton's Parliament and Funkadelic periods, with mention of the afro-futurism of The Mothership Connection and their Starchild persona, concepts all intertwined with African-American liberation and identity, the main thrust of the release, and indeed Saul's entire body of work.

Now, if you'll allow me a small tangent for a moment, I would just like to say that if you've read this far in the article there's no reason you shouldn't at least download the free copy of Niggy Tardust and form your own opinion. If you like what you hear, you can go back and pay the suggested five dollars; if not, nothing lost. If you're like me, and you find yourself listening to the work multiple times, then there's no reason not to at least donate a little. And that is the brilliance of DRM-free music.