When he’s not making genuine and humble bids to become President of Haiti, however laughable that sounds if you’re not familiar with his work there, Wyclef Jean’s busy living out of a guitar case making music that varies from record breaking singles to mix tape obscurities.

Having cemented his name in the history books as the figurehead of the world’s biggest hip-hop group of all time, The Fugees, Jean has gone on to release almost as many solo and collaborative projects than his ex partners in hits making Lauryn Hill and Pras have recorded non Fugees songs.

It would be a lie to paint Jean as a faultless artist. His discography is littered by collaborations with wrestling stars and members of 1990s British boy bands. There are tracks that murder the classics of legends if not shamelessly mimic them and over-kill songs of screeching indulgence. For those, the mainstream has turned its back, uninterested in the artist unless his group’s early tracks are remixed into a club’s set. Critics barely bother paying any attention at all.

But whilst commercial success and intrigue has stalled as dramatically as Lauryn Hill’s state of mind, Jean has quietly released regular albums showing much growth in his skills as a musician and producer, and approach as a lyricist. Gone are the days of the man clearly feeling the expectation to continually elevate from one gimmicky big hit to another (think It Doesn’t Matter or Pussy Cat). Gone too are hints of confusion in the artist as to where he fits in such as the trend jumping hijacking of Thug Angels or the pleas for credibility within the hip-hop community that made him such as The PJs.

Jean has pretty much dropped rapping (in English, his second language), rarely puts out studio covers of rock gems anymore and instead has carved out a varied approach of story telling, life celebrating, society documenting efforts delivered in a conversational, at peace with itself delivery that sits somewhere between lazy rapping and introverted singing. There are songs about child support, lack of community, road safety and place. Others launch an offensive to get listeners educated on genres outside of hip-hop and pop or simply to have listeners up on their feet having fun.

Here’s my chronological newcomers list on Last.fm as to what the radio’s not been playing with a few sentimental golden oldies and of course a couple of appearances by a pre ‘Call me Ms. Hill’ L-boogie.