No one musical entity, or group in the world comes close to the sum of their parts
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No one musical entity, or group in the world comes close to the sum of their parts
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Andre 3000 "Spread"
These are two albums, not one, but you know that. The most celebrated Southern American hip-hop group of all time have gone solo, together. 'Speakerboxxx' and 'The Love Below' will finally, one thought, oust the true nature of hip-hop's odd couple. Andre 3000, legend had it, wuz the weirdo, the right on leftie artist, and, whispered they with the flat brims in certain circles, the possible homo. Big Boi, now he wuz the P.I.M.P., son, the man with the "fat sacks" and "all them Cadillacs". He pissed off straight thinking females on Outkast's breakthrough 'Stankonia' by singing about "hoes". Dre, they said, brought the craziness to Boi's traditional hip-hop mindset.
NOT TRUE! ANY OF IT!
Well, Boi's album is more "hip-hop". But that's where it stops.
Hear Dre holler, sweetly: "I don’t wanna move too fast/but I can't resist/your sexy ass/just sprea-eh-ead! Spread for me!"
And hear Big Boi teaching his one year old son to rap.
On Dre's side cop brilliant male R'n'B. Male R'n'B is a pretty lame and ugly place - plasticated, over produced bland balladry, following that straight down R Kelly route. So it is good that Dre is holding off on the raps here - because it gives him space to get his croon on proper… the silky, fonky voice you recognise from all those platinum hooks gets to run wild here, and mostly the results are wicked. It might take a few listens to fully appreciate the joys on offer here - from the rude boy playerisms evident on 'Spread' to 'Prototype' (far too lush soul that comes on like Air Supply jamming with Marvin, and the immortal lines, "I think I'm in love/again/stank you! Smelly much")... the intro alone is better than most cat's albums. His skits are on some otherness also. Hear Andre waking up after a one might stand and debating protocol in his mind - "act cool, act cool... but what if... she's the one?" Catch a conversation between the man and God about women. And cop the return of Andre's British Accent on the humorous and sweet 'Good Sir'.
And musically? It is everywhere that fink and beauty can exist. Hs version of 'Favourite Things' shows UK rap - hell, rap - the fuck up... where Big Brovaz bragged about Bentleys over bullshit Irv Gotti-styled beats, Dre turns it into a free jazz drum and bass orgy. And when we say free jazz drum and bass we mean drum and bass-styled beats over which pianos and horns frolic like lambs in a field on a hot day. And it is totally future.
And don't think just because he's not rapping too much it's all some soft ladies' shit. 'She Lives In My Lap' rides coolly over a clanking tuff beat and some jagged guitars. The aforementioned 'Spread' matches clackety beats with rude rapping, sweet pianos, and a prohibition party time vibe... And 'Hey Ma' pops the party like stackers.
The best bits, however come towards the end - 'Dracula' is brilliant. The vocal performances of Dre and Kelis are both fucking beautiful. It is the lushest noise...
So Big Boi, unexpectedly, is the pure pop element. 'Unhappy' oozes genius. It's like Cube's 'It Was A Good Day' now with a sense of regret and hope that few artists ever convey effectively... 'Bowtie' hits all the barbershop buttons that make a man scream in delight "Cadillacs! Yeah!", and the horns parp and the ladies sing the chorus and shit, the rap busts in and a great big grin erupts over the face of the listener. And you heard 'The Way You Move' already, yeah? So you know... You throw bows without thinking.
Kiler Mike brings the rap Andrew WK shit on 'Bust', the Outkast heavy metal number, and 'War' is like Howard Jones and George Clinton got it on with Plastikman, Lee Perry and The Human League.
See, sonically, it's both of them, but Boi tops it on innovation and variety, albeit just. Techno mashes into funk and boogie and pomp rock and gabba and breaks and Ferris doing that shit on the float and Batman and electro and marching band stomps... and the flavouriest raps! So flavoury!
So flavoury. Outkast always were. And they continue to blossom, and bear intoxicating and bounteous fruit. No one musical entity, or group in the world comes close to the sum of their parts. Truly, they are on the Next. When we come to write the big book of 21st century noise, the greatest creations will all trace back to the attitude, and spirit, of these two Good Ole Southern Boys - nothing is out of bounds, and all that matters is that one executes the song (or even the essence in the spirit and style that best suits, regardless of genre or technological constraints.
