Jean Grae is the model of a post-modern emcee: She's the South African daughter of jazz professionals, was a classmate of Mos Def at La Guardia School of the Arts, and is a diehard fan of both Big Audio Dynamite and The Clash. And not only is she truly unique, she exudes a paranoiac attachment to iconoclasm that pushes her individuality on each dynamite verse. On "A-Alike", Grae boasts her dexterity: "A poet two steps ahead like Noah just left/ Mo' and sex? Holdin' Techs/ No, I'm not what you expect/ Golden pen exposing men false like a fallen disciple/ All in the Bible/ The cause is the calling haiku." This Week brims with such crafty phrases while at the same time capitalizing on Grae's flair for merging commentary and rhythm.

On This Week, Grae enters the booth with both pistols loaded: "Critically acclaimed and shot down since attack/ I took all the criticism, loaded it up and shot back," she tells her detractors in the album's intro. From there on out, Grae's marks are timely. With the number of hip-hop-kitten-cum-R&B-sidekicks; on the rise, Grae's critique of their oversexed role in hip-hop is scathing without seeming Puritanical. "Baby, bet you know they not like/ And anyway you know it's know easy/ To come across a girl like me," Grae purrs on "Not Like Me" as she lays out a plan for romantic fruition that doesn't involve Lil' Jon spraying her with a Super Soaker. On her skit "Before the Spot", Grae paints the hoards of fake-id-toting teenage girls with the brush of immaturity, referring to them as juveniles drunkenly extolling some men's claims of sexual dominance.

But despite her liberating content, Grae doesn't fear the bounce. She wisely conscripts two of the hottest producers in the game-- MIDI Mafia and 9th Wonder-- who, in total, deliver three unbreakable tracks. "You Don't Want It" features MIDI Mafia's patented Atari hop, ripe with the clicks and bleeps of a stripped-down club banger. With "buzz sicker than the hive or the flu," Grae laces the drops with a pop rarely found on indie releases. Meanwhile, 9th Wonder delivers two smoky cuts-- most notably, "Fyre Blazer", which sways with woo's and ahh's while 9th's muddled backbeat and spotty keys add his trademark veneer.

Yet, while no track dips below the quality line, the album lacks thematic fluidity and spark. The excellent "P.S." seems detached from the rest of the record, as does Jean's schizophrenic rant on "Going Crazy". Nonetheless, This Week is an effective sophomore album and would serve as a moving introduction to one of hip-hop's most promising rappers.