It was an idle Tuesday afternoon in mid-November last year when Sam posted a screenshot in our Picky Bs chat. “Genuinely can’t tell what is real and what is satire at this point,” he said. The image in question showed the tracklist for André 3000’s ‘flute album’, New Blue Sun. A cue for much mockery. Sam was baffled. Fran was incredulous. James thought it had something to do with mind-altering drugs. I myself agreed that I couldn’t imagine it’d be any good. But, I was also aware of André saying in the past that he would stop rapping as he got older, so I stated my respect for him seemingly doubling down on that stance. And it’s this concept, the willingness to stick to what you believe and what feels right, that I want to talk about here.
New Blue Sun’s release really captured my imagination. And this wasn’t because I cared whether I’d like listening to it or not – it was more about what it represented.
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André 3000 is one of the greatest rappers of all time. I state this almost factually because this belief is so widespread – not just from fans like myself, but from his peers in hip hop. What elevated his craft as one half of a brilliant duo in Outkast (let’s also put some respect on Big Boi’s name here) wasn’t just his technical ability, bold style choices, and down-to-earth storytelling on the mic. It was the creative pursuit. From outer space sounds to live instrumentation to funk and experimental music, Outkast were never interested in assimilating to the status quo. Maybe it helped that they were from the south of the US and so were already outsiders in the ‘90s rap scene. But with their close-knit community of Atlanta-based collaborators the Dungeon Family, they pursued their natural interests, and created some of the most pioneering rap and rap-adjacent music of the 1990s and early 2000s.
And considering André’s legacy, it feels crazy to think he’d basically wrapped up all of his major work before the age of 30. Yep, that’s right. The last major Outkast album, Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, came out in 2003, when he was 28. At the time it felt like surely there was more to come. We were still dancing to ‘Hey Ya’ and ‘Roses’! But for a while it has been clear that the man himself felt very differently. He has popped up with plenty of rap features in the last 20 years, but in 2017 he told Complex that he considered rap a “hobby” and he “hoped to god [he] won’t be rapping” in 10 years’ time. Instead, he has been spotted multiple times in random locations playing the flute. Each time, it got a somewhat amused and baffled reaction online, which is quite normal, because this is not what we expect of artists – or people in general.
As much as we might like to imagine otherwise, our expectations of the world and other people can be very fixed. We make judgements, and we think, ‘this is what you are, this is what you do.’ We expect people to do the ‘right’ things, the ‘right’ way. So that’s why it’s considered such a big deal when people turn ‘left’ and do something unexpected.
We all know about Dylan going electric and Lou Reed making Metal Machine Music, but I first became aware of the concept of the artistic ‘left turn’ reading music magazines as a teenager. In the early 2000s, the mainstream music press seemed to still be reeling from Radiohead’s great left turn with the electronic sounds of Kid A, and were unsubtly wondering when their weird phase of exploration would finish and they’d go back to normal. Even at the time, I didn’t really get it. What was so bad about Kid A? Why did they need to go back to playing guitars? As I became more and more of a music obsessive, I began to realise. Normal is safe. Normal is expected. And change is considered difficult.
Maybe it was because I grew to love Kid A and other examples of the concept that I developed a real fondness for the artistic left turn. Because it represents more than just experimentation. It represents freedom of expression. It represents the honesty of pursuing what feels natural. It represents having the courage of your convictions. It represents the bravery of trying something, when you know that there will be many people questioning your ideas or actions.
And, focusing back on art and music specifically, evolution is the name of the game. You have to change to get better. We think we want more of the same, but the same results in stagnation. Things get derivative.
Change is a good thing. My favourite artists are the ones who don’t stand still. But that is not to say that the results are always good. Like everyone else, I was bewildered when Kanye West made 808s and Heartbreak, and it’s not an album I go back to. I loved Arctic Monkeys’ very necessary change of tack on Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino, but some of my fellow editors despise it. I adore the music of Scott Walker’s ‘60s period, but find his avant garde comeback album Tilt the hardest of hard work.
But think about it. You or I ponder a bold change of haircut or fashion choice, and the potential mockery of our friends, family or work colleagues can feel significant. Now think about having thousands of fans anticipating your next move, having a record label to satisfy, staff to employ based on commercial success, and the vitriolic hordes waiting for you on social media, yet still having the courage of your convictions to pursue what feels right. To put it simply: it’s badass. This is why I love it.
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I watched the accompanying interview that André gave to GQ to coincide with New Blue Sun’s release. He hung around his local neighbourhood, played the flute, and faithfully washed his clothes at the laundromat (we all have hobbies). He seemed weightless and free. The energy radiating from this man; I felt healthier just watching it. His simple beliefs and actions of doing what felt right made so much sense to me. We complicate life, bending our will to fit societal expectations. But deep down we all know it.
Repressing what feels natural is unhealthy. Our favourite artists are our favourites because they tried things. They followed their artistic impulses when nobody cared. So doing it now, in front of millions of watching eyes, is a cause for celebration. Here’s to the souls brave enough to go left. In music and in life. The lawyer who decides to become a skydiving instructor. The inner city teacher who suddenly wants to live off the land. And the legendary rapper making an ambient album from woodwind instruments. Keep blocking out the noise, and keep being guided by what feels right to you.
Words by Tom Burrows
Picky Bastards 
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