Sir Lucious Left Foot... The Son of
Chico Dusty
My appreciation for hip-hop is somewhat
limited. I have little tolerance for skits and am not a huge
fan of words like "goosh" (which I think is a Southern mashup
of smoosh and gush?), or stories about how huge your cock is.
If I wanted that I’d watch bad porn (wait…). Big Boi, being
an Atlanta rapper, can’t quite help himself in this regard,
but he is a guy who clearly tries to raise the level of the
art. I mean the man quotes my main hip-hop frame of reference,
Special Ed ("tainted alligator
souffle"), so I’m indebted from early on. But, of course, back
in my day R&B stood for rappin’ bullshit (or maybe "rap
and bullshit"), so some of these tracks with all the singing
and crap make my ears bleed. The non-singing tracks have a lot
going on. There are strings and background vocals and all sorts
of stuff. This is some seriously busy stuff. And as such, it
does wear a bit on the ears. Listening to all 19 tracks in one
sitting will leave one breathless and beat up—it’s just so many
damn words and so many damn ‘n’ words. Despite my limited appreciation,
I can appreciate this one, but it doesn’t necessarily mean I
want to listen to it. It just wasn’t made for me. |
Musical Connections:
Outkast
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