OutKast - ATLiens

LaFace Records: 1996

Now this one, I was under no delusion it'd sound like Stankonia. No one in hip-hop sounded like Stankonia in the mid-'90s – heck, very few sounded like Stankonia when that album dropped, though I'm sure there's an outlier or two that could be pointed out as the true originator of 'southern trap-rap crunk-jungle soul'. Point being, though Stankonia kinda' numbed the enjoyment I should have had with Aquemini, I knew fully well ATLiens would be its own beast, meaning I could take it in under its own terms, expectant hype be damned.

No, wait, that's not entirely true. I knew ATLiens had its own high amount of praise, though for different reasons. An album that showed there was something creative and ingenious brewing in the lands of Georgia. An album that proved southern rap could be more than a bunch of booty bass and ghetto-cheap beats. That Wu-Tang Clan didn't have a monopoly on comic book iconography. Okay, maybe not so much that last one, but man, doesn't Big Boi look like he'd fit right in with a team-up with Method Man or Ghostface Killah? Right, they settled on Raekwon in Aquemini, but for sure the seeds of a major coastal crossover event were planted here. Also, Andre 3000 as a genie, but there were wacky sorts in hip-hop before him. He just started flying his own freak flag for ATLiens.

So if there's any disappointment to be had from my end regarding OutKast's sophomore album, it's that they didn't push the envelop quite as far as I was led to believe. The package screams ultra nerdcore concept outing, and given the general plaudits heaped upon it, I figured it a game-changer not just in the lexicon of southern rap, but all of rap. Nay, it's instead treading ground already being charted by the likes of the Hieroglyphics crew and other 'backpack rappers' of the time. And hey, totally a departure of what was expected from the south, so that's good enough, right?

Right. I don't need to hear Boi and 3000 rapping about their intergalactic escapades as portrayed in the booklet's comic. Hearing them waxing tales about living in Atlanta is good enough when the flows are this dope and the beats are this fine. ATLiens is best served as a deep southern fried slice of chilled-out vibes, perfect cruising material for hot 'n muggy days just trying to get by. There are moments of introspection, moments of booty chasin', and moments of good ol' simple head-boppin' – all under a thick THC haze as imported from somewhere beyond the outer reaches of your being. Or something.

It's a strange journey I've taken in exploring OutKast's discography. I came in when they were crossing over, but before they'd truly broken through the mainstream. The further back I dug, the simpler they seemed, but somehow more interesting too. Still, not sure I'm up for Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik. That one seems too straight-forward, and I need my OutKast a little askew.

OutKast - Aquemini

LaFace Records: 1998

Like many, this was my first introduction to OutKast. Unlike many, I didn't actually hear this until well after I'd heard their follow-up album Stankonia, the first OutKast record I listened to. The logic in this admission is Aquemini had been a major hit in the little corner of Canadian hinterland I lived, the local populace quite enamoured over that Rosa Parks jam.

Upon returning to the music shop I worked at after a year away in The Big City, that snappy Aquemini cover art was there to greet me, one of the store's hottest items at the time. Interesting, thinks I, in that when I'd left the year before, it was Puff Daddy's tribute to the dead Biggy that was our hottest item. I was curious what could have supplanted that gargantuan single, but didn't throw it on before we sold through our stock, and forgot about it. Then I heard Stankonia, my head a'sploded from its awesomeness, and I remembered, oh yeah, they had that Aquemini album a couple years back too. I should check that out, if I ever find it again.

I bring all this up because context is key in how one forms an opinion on something, and because of my ass-backwards journey into OutKast's discography, my initial impressions of Aquemini wasn't so high. For sure I eventually dug what I heard, but it wasn't what I was expecting. Stankonia's wild genre fusion had me thinking the Atlantian duo were always doing such stuff, and instead I got a solid rap album with some southern soul and a smattering of dalliances outside the norm. Man, how I envy those who were listening to OutKast from the beginning, hearing Aquemini proper-like as yet another bold step forward in their musical evolution.

Honestly though, I don't have much to gripe with this album. I feel it drags a bit too long, my attention drifting after the two-parter Da Art Of Storytellin', but that was a complaint of almost ever hip-hop album in the late '90s: too much bloat. Still, it's hard denying Aquemini winds significantly down in the back-half. Prior to that, you have the aforementioned club hit Rosa Parks, the Raekwon guesting Skew It On The Bar-B (a big deal, considering few from the East Coast felt Southern rap had much legitimacy), the ultra-psychedelic titular cut, and the electro-leaning Synthesizer (George Clinton, yo'!). Damn, even without comparing to Stankonia, that's still a hot opening salvo of songs! Slump and West Savannah take things back to the easy-vibin' groove, while Da Art Of Storytellin' Parts 1 & 2 have some of the catchiest production on the whole damn album (the rappity-rap parts are pretty dope too).

What I'm trying to say is, Aquemini was a real slow burn for yours truly. It didn't mesmerize me like Stankonia did because how could it? I had to take it on its own terms, which I stubbornly did after too many years. My brain did a bad on this one.

ACE TRACKS: October 2015

An extra hour of sleep this past night? Pft, I totally wasted that the night before, where I slept for about eleven hours. I didn’t think I was that tired, but then again, I have noticed the fatiguing signs. The shorter daylight hours, leading me to rely more on ultra-caffeine to plow through, leading to nights with less deep sleep, and the cycle continues. I don’t recall having these problems before. Was it because I was a steady Rock Star drinker for twelve years? I had to quit those suckers earlier this year because of compounding chest pains. Heck, I ‘relapsed’ this past month to get through those rough mornings, and started feeling those pains again. Why? Why must this aging process limit societal crutches? Dear Lord, don’t let the same thing happen to music! Maybe I needed happier music this past October, but there be Beach Boys in th’ar. Here, take a listen.


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Sven Väth ‎– In The Mix: The Sound Of The Ninth Season
Various - The Sound Of Zero and One
Olien - Sounded Paratronic
Overdream - Soundprints
Peter Benisch - Soundtrack Saga
Various - Space Jazz
Der Dritte Raum - Spaceglider
Distant System - Spiral Empire
Jerry Goldsmith - Star Trek: The Motion Picture
James Horner - Star Trek: The Search For Spock

Percentage of Hip-Hop: 8%
Percentage Of Rock: 35% (it’s all Beach Boys)
Most “WTF?” Track: Horsemilk - They Milk Horses Don’t They? (that title alone …oh yeah, and Olien)

Ugh, so much great music, so much not on Spotify. I mean, this past month had me going through a number of albums I’ve endlessly namedropped over the years, and I can’t even share audio clips of them now. Well, unless y’all followed my advice and already copped yourselves some Benisch, Olien, and D. System.

That still leaves a bunch of cool music from other though: Thievery Corporation, AstroPilot, OutKast, and the aforementioned Beach Boys. If you’re feeling the SADS, maybe they’ll help add a little sunshine in your day. Yeah, that’s dorky, but so were they, so win-win, I say.

OutKast - Stankonia

Arista: 2000

Wu-Tang Clan may have opened my ears to the possibilities of what hip-hop could sound like, but OutKast's Stankonia obliterated whatever biased barriers I had left. Not that my reaction was much different from everyone else who nabbed a copy of this album, Big Boi and André 3000's fourth LP lauded for its fearless genre-bending music by even the most cagey of rap veterans. Folks in the know were already hype to OutKast's potential though, even if the duo continuously exceeded expectations at this point in their career. I was coming in raw, with no knowledge of their history within the Atlanta scene. All I knew about Southern rap was whatever No Limit Records was churning out, and Stankonia sounded nothing like Master P. Then again, Stankonia sounded like nothing else on the market period.

For one thing, this album was among the first, if not the first, of major records in American hip-hop to inject the breakneck pace of drum ‘n’ bass rhythms into the scene. I’m sure some UK act had done the deed prior, or at least lyrically conscious MCs were spittin’ verses overtop Roni Size cuts, but music intended for raves was well outside the interest of this continent’s ghetto regions. Figures, then, it’d take these OutKast types to make that bold step into 155BPM territory with B.O.B. and smaller track ? (yes, it’s called that). Big Boi and Mr. 3000 weren’t satisfied just aping some rhythms though, making use of their newly acquired studio to indulge in all sorts of electronic sounds and productions. Red Velvet is pure electro, Snappin’ & Trappin’ goes weirdo electro (wasn’t really called trap yet), Gangsta Sh*t blasts heavy southern bass funk, Slum Beautiful fears no time signatures, and I’ll Call Before I Come tinkers with a drum machine like a toy box in Prince’s hands. And don’t forget all those funky Moog worms about So Fresh, So Clean, Xplosion, and Stanklove.

Stankonia was also where André started feeling the soul-croon itch, which initially gave his chums pause whether they were going to lose his rap talents. Instead, Big Boi let him run with it, and the result was some of OutKast’s most endearing songs ever, including their first major hit with Ms. Jackson. There’s also freak-out rock with Gasoline Deams, P-funk soul with Toilet Tisha, salsa with Humble Mumble, and plenty of quirky dalliances within multiple interludes. It’s funny how the more traditional hip-hop cuts with Spaghetti Junction and We Luv Deez Hoez, while fine enough productions, are almost forgotten amongst the genre bending going on. Well, no, you’ll never forget the hook in We Luv Deez Hoez.

Listening to Stankonia, it’s easy to understand why many OutKast fans were hesitant in embracing Speakerboxxx / The Love Below. This album finds the duo seemingly at the threshold of exploring amazing new approaches to hip-hop, whereas the latter, though a passion-project, was a step back. The relative lack of anything since has only made hearts grow fonder for this stank.

OutKast - The Love Below

Arista: 2003

Of course the reason a high percentage of folks bought OutKast's last (and final?) proper album was for that one song on Mr. Benjamin's solo effort, The Love Below. It was such a hit, such a smash, such a pop culture revelation, it turned André 3000 into a superstar overnight, the video serving as much a spotlight on his many stage talents as anything music related. It probably could have launched a semi-successful solo career had Hollywood not lured him away for so long, ushering in a new era of rappers forgoing the standard hip-hop beats of the day for more funk, soul, jazz, and blues fusions. Where you could croon to R&B while mixing in electro synths while sticking to a conceptual theme for the full eighty minutes a CD offered. Where you could be as quirky as you could go, all the while exposing a sensitive side almost unheard of in the world of rap. Come to think of it, hip-hop has come around to such developments in recent years, though most keep pointing to Kanye West as the spearhead, The Love Below practically forgotten these days.

Maybe hip-hop just wasn't ready for it. For sure they didn't mind influences from Prince and Funkadelic making their ways into their jams, but only for a track or three, and always with the sounds of the street kept intact. This was a full-on, take-it or leave-it indulgence, and save a few of those killer, undeniable earworms OutKast could always be counted upon, many left it in the rear view. Even those who only came for Hey Ya!, knowing nothing of the group's history in the Atlanta rap scene, were challenged by the oddities André 3000 wilfully filled The Love Below with. Lord knows when folks bring up this double-LP, they always speak of Speakerboxxx with more fondness, finding Big Boi’s ode to Southern hip-hop the easier to take of the two.

Listening to The Love Below a decade on, and all that lovely hindsight firmly reminding us this could end up being the final OutKast album, it makes things much easier to appreciate what André 3000 was shooting for here. For sure you can mix in some askew blues moments (Take Off Your Cool, Prototype) with your broken-beatnik electro (A Life In The Day Of Benjamin André, Pink & Blue). Or why not some frantic jazzstep (Spread, My Favorite Things) with classic jazz vibes (Love Hater, She’s Alive). Honestly, The Love Below sounds like Mr. Benjamin is exercising every muse he never fully explored in his years of OutKast, all in one go. The whole ‘love’ concept of the album is just something to hang all these disparate tunes on, and while it’s all interesting to hear, Lord help us if a b-side version of this is ever revealed. It probably didn’t need to run the full eighty minutes, though I cannot deny being intrigued by every next track as ol’ André reveals another of his many tastes.

OutKast - Speakerboxxx

Arista: 2003

To write about OutKast’s double-LP opus Speakerboxxx / The Love Below is ultimately an exercise in doubling one’s word count, the two ‘solo albums’ so radically different from each they demand divided attention. Fortunately for me, I’ve long set a precedent of reviewing individual CDs of multi-disc releases, and if there’s ever an album that needs this, it’s OutKast’s technical last album (to date). No, I don’t count Idlewild, the soundtrack merely one part of that project’s main focus: making a movie about OutKast, set in an old-timey ragtime era, because of course they would.

Before venturing into Big Boi’s album, here’s a bit of forgotten trivia first. When the double-disc came out, the CD you’d see upon opening the tray was André 3000’s The Love Below. This, despite Speakerboxxx long considered the CD1 due to its position in the main title, being the advertised front cover, and the name everyone automatically associates with this release. I bring this up because it points to one of the idiosyncrasies that made OutKast such a unique entity within hip-hop’s landscape. They thrived on dashing expectations, whether something big and bold like genre fusions on their albums, to something simple like tricking hip-hop heads into playing the disc they wouldn’t care for if they weren’t paying attention.

Speakerboxxx though, they’d be totally fine with, especially all those trunk rattling Southern bass jams. Big Boi always was the more ‘traditional’ hip-hop part of OutKast, and with a full LP to indulge himself, unleashes plenty of beats for the booty and body, and tons of rhymes for the lyrical heads. Ghetto Musick, Tomb Of The Boom, Flip Flop Rock, and Last Call have no problem getting rowdy and crunk for the sake of it, while funky soul worms its way in Unhappy, Bowtie, The Way You Move, and Reset. And though Dré 3000 doesn’t do much in the way of rhyming on Speakerboxxx, he does lend his production to a few esoteric cuts (Ghetto Musick, War, Church), bringing this CD as close to the vibe most point as vintage OutKast.

Not that Big Boi lacks lyrical back-up without his partner in crime afoot. Mr. Patton has plenty on his mind to spit, getting a few street tales and perspectives out on War, Knowing and The Rooster. He’s not hesitant in calling in some outside support too, Speakerboxxx featuring one of OutKast’s biggest guest spots ever with Jay-Z dropping in along with your usual plethora of Southern rap names (Killer Mike, Goodie Mob, Ludacris, Lil’ Jon & The East Side Boyz). At a time when crunk was primed for its takeover of all things hip-hop, it’s quite refreshing hearing such bass heavy music with some effort put into lyrics. Hell, Last Call with Lil’ Jon is probably one of the best non Lil’ Jon-produced Lil’ Jon tracks out there (pst, it was André 3000 at the console there too). Oh, the wonders we could have visited upon had OutKast kept going this route in the ‘00s.