In its infancy, hip-hop was about experimentation. Pioneers like Afrika Bambaataa and Grandmaster Flash found a link between the burgeoning rap culture and the raw power of punk and kraut rock, and created a blueprint adhered to by everyone from Public Enemy to Merzbow. New Jersey’s Dälek maybe one of the closest links back to that old-school era of indiscriminant experimentation.

The vocalist/producer is quick to point out his appreciation for those who came before. "I hope that we're doing justice to the shit that Afrika Bambaataa started 25 years ago. The sound he started was innovative. He could find ways to blend kraut rock with cuts of old Stones records and come up with something that was brand new. That's amazing. I'd be honored to be considered as innovative as those cats back in the day."

The seeds for Dälek's collaboration with producer Oktopus were planted while the two were students at William Patterson University. It wasn't long before the duo began working on their debut album, 1998's Negro Necro Nekros, in Dälek's home recording studio. Taking off from the white noise of Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music, the orchestrated density of My Bloody Valentine and the stark grit of the Velvet Underground, Dälek created a volatile mix that put him at the epicenter of the new generation of like-minded musical mad scientists.

"Hip-hop was always, at its core, experimental, revolutionary music," says Dälek, who just released his latest album, From Filthy Tongue of Gods and Griots, on Ipecac records, a label run by rocker Mike Patton (Faith No More, Mr. Bungle). It's this staunch idealism that also inspires Dälek and Oktopus to reject the genre's honored practice of sampling the cleverest bits of favorite records. "We use the sampler as an instrument to create the sounds we want to hear, not to replay what is already out there," says Dälek. "If it reminds you of [Metal Machine Music, etc.], that's cool, because listening to those records is the reason that we're out here now making the music that we do. It would be wack to sit down with our favorite records, hit record, then play them right back."

Filthy Tongue finds Dälek exploring the sounds of 20th-century composers and enlarging his lyrical palate. "I view my lyrics as poetry and as poetry, they are very personal to me and can range from personal experience in one line to sociological and political issues in another. However, it's not the kind of thing I feel the need to spoon-feed to the listener. I'd rather they draw their own meaning from my songs," he says.

Still, endless experimentation in the studio is only half the battle. He spends a lot of time on the road putting on incendiary live shows. Says Dälek: "We always knew, making the music we make, that for us to get Œout there' we had to be in front of like five to 10 kids just playing our hearts out -- city after city, building an audience that way." Dälek, Oktopus and DJ Still have also gotten the word out by not limiting themselves to one kind of audience. Over the years they've toured with everybody from the Pharcyde to William Hooker to Rye Coalition. "We feel comfortable on the road with anyone who's playing music they believe in," Dälek says.

In the cross-pollination of genres, Dälek sees limitless possibilities. "I don't think we've ever done anything to fit into any mold whatsoever. We're not out there to play into stereotypes. We are just into making honest music. We're just doing our thing and hoping you can make sense of it," he says.

"There's definitely a parallel between the punk/indie and hip-hop undergrounds, just like there's a parallel in all music. Because it's like what Phil Spector said, there's only two types of music -- good and bad."

Dälek plays Thu., Sept. 5, 10 p.m., $8 with Bad Wizard and Marrow, North Star Bar, 27th and Poplar sts., 215-684-0808.