Big Boi
Sir Luscious Leftfoot Son Of Chico Dusty
When Marty, Tucker, and I went into the war room (picture: Marty as President Merkin Muffley, Tucker as Gen. Buck Turgidson, Me = Russian Premier on the phone) I had this record near the top of my shortlist. Tucker and Marty immediately and concisely shut me down - Outkast are better together, this record is Big Boi attempting to prove that he doesn’t need Andre 3000, it’s not as good as Speakerboxxx, the album has two or three songs that kill the momentum dead, making it hard to listen to as a whole. The thing is... well, they’re not wrong. I can’t disagree with any of those points. Hell, it would be hard to.
But you can’t discount Luscious Leftfoot that easily, and it would be a mistake to. Sure, it’s not on the level of an Aquemini or Speakerboxxx, but how many records really are? That’s a high standard to hold Big Boi to, and it ignores how compulsively listenable Luscious Leftfoot is. This album was the only thing I listened to in my car from the day it leaked in June until sometime in the middle of October. Luscious Leftfoot has a lot of the same aspects that make me hate a lot of current rap records - a dozen producers, skits and asides that have no bearing on the album, too many guest artists, the annoying track with the rock singer - but the material here is so strong that it eventually overtakes any criticism I might have for it. Maybe it’s because I listened to it in my car first - the album passes the DJ Premier test of it working first in the car, hence working anywhere else being a secondary, remedial function.
Track for track - when Luscious Leftfoot is firing on all cylinders it’s impossible to argue with - the Andre 3000-produced “You Ain’t No DJ” has Big Boi jabbing “I’m the Hansel to your Gretel, you’re a dame, understood?” over sped up nintendo dungeon chimes and bass pulse, as well as Yelawolf doing his Noel Fielding-doing-a-Pharcyde-impression thing. “For Your Sorrows” may have Too $hort’s laziest rap of all time, but Big Boi does offhandedly tell anyone listening to kill themselves. Natch! “Shine Blockas” remains the same accidentally anthemic byproduct of Girl Talk it was when it came out last year, while also showcasing the one and only time Gucci Mane has ever been close enough to greatness that he could share in its glory himself. On “General Patton” Aida turns into something you can get your war on to. Organized Noize take the could-have-been-corny “Back Up Plan” and turn it into this oddly expansive piece that integrates all the elements into a hypnotic Czugkay lock groove. The two best songs here are “Daddy Fat Sax” and the Janelle Monae-featuring “Be Still”. The latter walks the line of being a synthed-out space track and R’n’B slow jam. Monae’s other work this year, even at its most intellectually exciting, felt really cold to me. On “Be Still” she actually hits the soulful robot spot that she missed on ArchAndroid - she sounds like she’s part of the synths, but with some actual feeling in the way her tone lilts. It’s eerie in execution, and will be almost impossible for her to return to. Big Boi’s at his most concise there, starting with “To hell if I don’t pray”, updating the hey-it-went-wrong verse once dedicated to Ms. Jackson into a possible acknowledgement that he was in the wrong, and wisely letting Monae take the song for herself--his silence is amends enough. “Daddy Fat Sax’ is the exact opposite, going in on anything and everything he can - Obama getting assassinated, you being a shitty rapper, golden age of rap animal comparisons/puns, the soon-to-be-immortal “I write knockout songs, you spit punchlines for money”. Fuck, a track like this is all I want from new Big Boi, and it’s tough to intellectualize what is basically a slamming car record. You want me to talk about how great it is to get a no frills rap record that isn’t completely filler? Or how how weirdly 90s-trance the production gets sometimes? Or why Big Boi’s essentially themeless record grabbed me so quickly in a year driven to a fault by theme and point of view, from weirdo popstars to teenage rape obsessives to meticulous concept album supergeniuses to locked-room production escape artists? Or why last year's long-in-production, finally-released rap ghost story was a masterpiece and this is just a good record? Gonna have to go somewhere else for those arguments, all I know is that I played this record out. You probably did too.
Take that, motherfucker. Take that.
-Sean Witzke, 2010
Man, yeah. This is good, a nice POV that I don't (can't?) have. I'm horrifically biased when it comes to OutKast, Goodie MOb, and the Dungeon in general. It's in my DNA, and I've been listening to these guys too long to be able to be anything even remotely impartial. This is one of my top records this year, even with Follow Us.
And you're right--turn this thing up and it's extremely listenable. The way the first few go hard and then smooth set you up for the banging middle section of the album from Follow Us to Hustle Blood... I like it a whole lot.
Posted by: david brothers | 2010.12.16 at 15:19
This was my most-played album for 2010, by far!
Posted by: Miles | 2010.12.16 at 17:52
Nice take on an album that I love but which refused to announce its importance like a lot of the other big albums of the year.
I mean, there are bits that scream with purpose (BE STILL!), but at other points... well, it feels like it was made according to a very specific philosophy: "if it sounds good, say it!"
Like you said though, I played this shit out. Sometimes that's more than enough.
Posted by: Illogical Volume | 2010.12.17 at 07:01