Dan Monick photo

P.O.S.: Unconventional.

P.O.S.

With Saosin, Innerpartysystem and Eye Alaska. 6:30 p.m., Nov. 28. Toad's Place, 300 York St. $15-$18. 203-624-8623, toadsplace.com.

Of all the hip-hop artists working today, P.O.S. takes the most risks on touring partners. Over the last few years, the thoughtfully raw Minneapolitan has shared bills with the likes of metalcore outfit Underoath, experimental stargazers Minus the Bear and dirty blues rockers Attracted to Gods, not to mention playing a full nationwide run of the pop-punk-heavy Warped Tour. He has no aversion to touring with fellow rappers (he's also played alongside Atmosphere & Eyedea & Abilities), but purposely chooses to team up with artists with a broad range of styles.

"As long as I make sure to do a couple of headliners every once in a while, I should be able to play around wherever I want," he says.

His choice of studio collaborators demonstrates a similar range, with P.O.S. recordings containing the contributions of vocalists from punk rock (Jason Shevchuk of None More Black), indie rock (Craig Finn of The Hold Steady) and hip-hop (Slug of Atmosphere). He even reworked Pearl Jam's "Why Go" for MTV2 — an unconventional choice for any rapper, but he made it work via a sampler and some singing. Unwilling to be confined to hip-hop's standard demarcations, P.O.S. and his material flex a complex set of skills.

Born Stefon Alexander, P.O.S.' acronym has stood for a myriad of things: among them, Pissed Off Stef, Promise of Skill and the commonplace Piece of Shit.

P.O.S. earned much early goodwill, because he made the unusual leap from a member of a hardcore punk group to a solo rapper. He's often championed as an underground antithesis to the bloated materialism found in mainstream hip-hop, and the rapper himself has repeatedly made his strong opinions known during concerts.

One snippet of "De La Souls" from 2006's Audition provides an appropriate glance into P.O.S.' POV: "I raise a black fist / but won't say [nigga] in the things I write / and I don't say [faggot] / 'cause I don't think it's right."

Despite having aired complaints practically since he assumed the P.O.S. moniker, his stance has hardly softened. "There's still some quality rappers in the mainstream — I'm not mad at everybody up there — but for the most part, I think it's boring," P.O.S. says. "There's a lot of people who have an enormous say in how pop culture is going and they're doing very little to steer things in a smarter way."

His discontent isn't limited to well-known names.

"It's not even mainstream rap. A lot of underground rap is boring, too," he says, asserting that he isn't out to start any feuds. "Rap sounds so much the same all the time. A lot of the beats are nonsense."

On the recent Never Better, P.O.S.' desire for creative vision turns especially palpable as he tears out seething songs rife with turbulent drums and swift, distorted word play. As rappers using other artists' work for beats has led to a minefield of legalities, P.O.S. has found his own way to combat the issue.

"I'll hit up musicians I know and ask them for Pro Tools sessions," he says, soon referencing drum tracks he acquired from Dave Turncrantz of post-rockers Russian Circles. "I'll chop it up until it's completely unrecognizable — even to them — and add my own lyrics. That's a fun way of going about it. You work with people you respect and still make it 100 percent your own."

After constructing the abrasive Never Better in response to the comparably brighter Audition, P.O.S. feels comfortable with moving into a darker sound.

"I could easily push it further to make something I find more challenging," he says. "I had other ideas I had been sitting on that I could take chances with if I want to now."

Perpetually the devil's advocate, he even considers the other end.

"I might sit back and make a super-quiet, really pretty record."