Idlewild
(La Face/RCA)
Oh, the terrible burden of being called a genius. Outkast, you may recall, are a hip-hop duo from Atlanta who became ubiquitous in 2003 with Hey Ya, a catchy slice of Sixties jangle pop that actually bore little relation to hip-hop. Its parent album — Outkast’s fifth — was a lavish curio called Speakerboxxx/The Love Below that sprawled over two CDs, one for each of the group’s members.
Speakerboxxx presented Antwan “Big Boi” Patton as an assured, imaginative rapper. The Love Below was a psychedelic fantasia styled by André “André 3000” Benjamin, who clearly fancied himself as the next Prince. Ambitious, cultured and a little odd, the album sold 11 million copies. Big Boi was stereotyped as a decent, conservative rapper, André 3000 mythologised as a Renaissance maverick. What would he do next? The answer, it seems, is to try that little bit too hard. This time, the pair limit themselves to one very long CD, although again they mainly work alone. Idlewild is the soundtrack to their forthcoming movie, a hip-hop musical set in a Thirties speakeasy — the ideal scenario for the dandyish André to flaunt his impeccable taste in zoot suits. Listening to his contributions, you are occasionally reminded of a stage school brat who insists on reciting a Hamlet soliloquy while tapdancing. He sings! He acts! Everyone has told him he’s an eccentric genius, so now he has to prove it.
André begins Idlewild with a bizarre Cockney accent, introducing himself as “Larry Olivier”, and ends it with a nine-minute guitar solo.
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In between he offers Cole Porter-ish trinkets (When I Look in Your Eyes), clattering leftfield jazz (Makes No Sense at All) and one really good song, Idlewild Blue, a honking blues vamp that, with typical excess, nods to two Stevie Wonder tunes, Higher Ground and Don’t You Worry ‘Bout a Thing. André is always interesting, but much here sounds cluttered and needy, as if the reputation of crazed maestro must be sustained at the expense of great music.
The great music, as it happens, is provided by Big Boi. Just as his Speakerboxxx has aged better than The Love Below, his songs on Idlewild are generally the stronger. He’s a laid-back, bluff rapper, but much more adventurous than he is often given credit for: The Train, the album’s loveliest track, builds lush Southern funk around a riff treated to sound like a sitar.
While André seems anxious to have his eclecticism recognised, Big Boi’s experiments feel less forced, even when the twitchy beats on Peaches and Buggface recall those of the Aphex Twin. When the pair collaborate, Big Boi adds the solid heart to André’s daft flourishes, rapping calmly while a marching band strides around him on the next single, Morris Brown.
If they operated as a normal group, Outkast might lose the appearance of unorthodoxy — and the scope for self-indulgence — that they treasure so highly. But you can’t help thinking that working together more often might benefit this brilliant and exasperating band.
In his spare time, Big Boi breeds pitbulls. Perhaps he should keep his partner’s pretensions on a leash too.