- John-Paul Shiver investigates the star rapper's turn to ambient music.
- Breathe in and exhale. It's what André 3000 needed to do, too. Outkast went on hiatus in 2006, so for 17 years, Three Stacks has been traversing the earth by himself, often seen with a flute. Sure, there have been sporadic collaborations on projects by Frank Ocean or Beyoncé, but André checked out from the famous role of the other to Big Boi's "y'all know me," and kept going down the road, playing the other to himself instead. He took time to design clothes, create a cartoon series, pick up acting roles and play an elder statesman role in hip-hop. He showed light and pointed directly at the tunnel of inspiration for early versions of Kanye, Pharrell, Tyler, The Creator and younger emcees, who, like him, chose empty lanes and refused to conform to rap tropes.
So when you hear Three Stacks on New Blue Sun—his debut solo album, coming almost two decades after Outkast went on hiatus in 2006—he's apologizing, using wordplay in titles and flexing that breath control. But this time it's breathwork for the purpose of woodwind instruments, for wanting to rap but not being able to. It's easy to cheer him on, but it's also easy to understand why some would be confused. He's risking his reputation and everything else in pursuit of something foreign. Or maybe he's seeking peace after 20-plus years of the hype industrial complex. Either way, he's not rehashing material he already mastered in his 30s. André is in this for his soul, not the paycheque.
At some point, you assume André 3000 looked at hip-hop and asked, "What future lies before me?" He examined the horizon of death: Phife, Dave from De La Soul. Mental health: Kanye. Not retiring: The Roots. Go into acting: LL Cool J, Queen Latifah. Become a billionaire: Jay-Z, Dr. Dre. These are the accepted paths of growing older in hip-hop. Many—excuse me, a whole bunch of—Black folks die in the throes of building, starting or just envisioning a career. So if you're lucky enough to have health insurance, wealth coverage and retain your mental faculties, the question remains. How do you grow old gracefully and still pursue that creative urge without relying on old strategies?
André has already stated that he doesn't feel like rapping about getting a colonoscopy. That's where he's at in his life. How can he do something new that allows him to channel all those older creative energies without rapping? You can only imagine what it takes to be one of the best to do it. Only André knows the preparation required to pour excellence into the mic. But he doesn't think he has it anymore, and who is better qualified to understand the parameters? He has put in more than 10,000 hours. He's got rap albums he's recorded in the vault but wants to keep them private. New Blue Sun is about what he does want as a creative outlet. Or at least what he'd like to share with the public.
Coproduced by André 3000 and Carlos Niño, the Los Angeles percussionist, producer, and spiritual jazz musician, the album has drawn comparisons to recordings by Brian Eno, Yusef Lateef, Mort Garson, and John Carroll Kirby. Nate Mercereau, a pivotal member of the LA circle of players who compose ambient arrangements with the likes of Kamasi Washington and legend Idris Ackamoor, works steadily with Carlos Niño and plays on six of these tracks. Most of the album features André collaborating with other Niño affiliated musicians, including Surya Botofasina on synths, drummer Deantoni Parks, LEAVING RECORDS founder Matthewdavid on "mycelial electronics," V.C.R. on violin and effects, Diego Gaeta on piano, Jesse Peterson on bass and vocalist Mia Doi Todd. Mercereau refers to these recordings as searching while writing. "We showed up for each other with lots of good feelings, but the words that feel strongest for me regarding this are curiosity, openness, and willingness," he told me over email for an upcoming interview. "I went deep on my MIDI-guitar-sampler set up during the New Blue Sun process, so much so that it's become a cornerstone of some of my current music."
That speaks to the sound of this record and how to interpret it. If it puts you at ease on this simplest of tiers, then it's a fit, right? But where does it slot, in scope, or where should it be placed within the context that André is now working in? New Blue Sun is an enjoyable experience wherever you register on the spectrum of being familiar with ambient music. I have a difficult time calling this jazz. New Age is a better fit. The instruments he and his collaborators play here—contrabass flutes, Mayan flutes, bamboo flutes—are powered by human breath. On the most elementary of levels these selections, which feature both electric and wooden flutes pirouetting on and off, with those airy synths carving designs in the sky, can transmit the idea of tranquility, reflection and nature.
In the 12-minute opener, "I Swear, I Really Wanted to Make a 'Rap' Album but This is Literally the Way the Wind Blew Me This Time," Niño creates a minimalist sound patch filled with shimmering bells, shells in movement, gentle drums, shakers and occasional Sanskrit-like chants. It's both an introduction to what this album is about, and to what André's role is in this very collective debut album. Delay-heavy keyboard work adds to the sense of elevation, making 3000's pure and trusting performance on a digital wind instrument feel natural rather than strange.
"That Night in Hawaii When I Turned Into a Panther and Started Making These Low Register Purring Tones That I Couldn't Control... Sh¥t Was Wild," the third track, transitions into folky storytelling mode. André showcases his contrabass flute in a pre-warrior attack fashion, slowly and pragmatically, until it's time to foretell the future through this vision. Perhaps it's a fever dream in a sweat lodge or that moment kneeling before the Gods in the skies, or even a shaman-led inner journey towards enlightenment. The combination of Niño's percussion and Parks' drums intensifies the atmosphere, bringing gale and gust to the campfire and immersing our senses in the ceremony.
Towards the middle and end of the fourth track, "BuyPoloDisorder's Daughter Wears a 3000 Button Down Embroidered," André and company bring us as close to iconic territory as anything will. Its intro and mid-section sketches feature fiery cosmic astral work that may remind some of Alice Coltrane's volatile catalog after the passing of John. In particular, it comes close in feel, chord progression, tone and its ability to evoke a sense of movement without physically traveling, to her version of A Love Supreme—which transitions from the ability of love when it's around, to the action of destruction it can produce when it's gone.
So where do we go with this out-of-nowhere-released album moving forward? Here in The Bay, it's the most sublime soundtrack to walking the end-to-end, DMV office to Ocean Beach, the entire three miles of Golden Gate Park. Toss in some side detours to the Botanical Garden and growth patterns erupt in the fog patches. This album can work when it's in service of something other than itself. Listened to in smaller stretches, it becomes a bit easier to digest, and opens up a bit. Maybe New Blue Sun will send folks farther down the rabbit hole of Carlos Niño and Nate Mercereau, or reach back for Pharoah Sanders and more Alice Coltrane with strings. But I think the amount of curiosity it's brought up in the culture has made another point come closer into view: Why, as a society, we now seem to easily decipher what is considered noise and choose to embrace the ambient.
Tracklist01. I Swear, I Really Wanted to Make a "Rap" Album but This Is Literally the Way the Wind Blew Me This Time
02. The Slang Word P(*)ssy Rolls Off the Tongue With Far Better Ease Than the Proper Word Vagina. Do You Agree?
03. That Night in Hawaii When I Turned Into a Panther and Started Making These Low Register Purring Tones That I Couldn't Control... Sh¥t Was Wild
04. BuyPoloDisorder's Daughter Wears a 3000® Button Down Embroidered
05. Ninety Three 'Til Infinity And Beyoncé
06. Ghandi, Dalai Lama, Your Lord & Savior J.C. / Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer, and John Wayne Gacy
07. Ants to You, Gods to Who?
08. Dreams Once Buried Beneath the Dungeon Floor Slowly Sprout Into Undying Gardens