What It Means For Hip-Hop And Jazz Fans

As André 3000 turns 50, the backlash over his refusal to rap on recent projects like “New Blue Sun” and “7 Piano Sketches,” reveals more about the hip-hop community’s resistance to artistic growth than any failure on his part.

People were expecting the “Da Art of Storytellin’” 3K. The “Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik” 3K. The “Ms. Jackson” 3K. The “Hey Ya!” 3K. However, that was over two decades ago. André was in his early thirties when Outkast released their last album, Idlewild, in 2006. Before dropping his first solo album, he certainly dropped bars across the hip-hop universe. Three Stacks and Big Boi reunited Outkast for the highly anticipated 2007 UGK collaboration “International Players Anthem,” hopped on Erykah Badu’s 2015 “Hello,” worked with Frank Ocean twice (“Pink Matter” and “Solo”), appeared on N.E.R.D.’s “Rollinem 7s,” and made several more surprise features with Rick Ross, Anderson .Paak, and James Blake. His last collaboration before 2023’s New Blue Sun was with Kanye West, where he dropped bars on “Life of the Party,” once again fueling hip-hop fans’ desire to witness a living 3 Stacks bless the masses with profound, modernized bars. However, they were not prepared for what the Outkast emcee had in store.

On Tuesday, the world commemorated André 3000 as he welcomed the ripe age of 50. For an adult man, this is typically a time for thorough self-reassessment. According to a German study by Dr. Kurt Seikowski on men and midlife crisis, as a man approaches 50, he is poised to qualitatively reorient himself. I am not suggesting that André 3000’s recent projects are a reflection of the negative aspects often associated with a midlife crisis. Rather, I advocate the view that these works are the product of a legendary emcee’s personal reinvention as he officially enters the next phase of his life—also a testament to his intellectual rigor. Moreover, the backlash that New Blue Sun and its successor EP, 7 Piano Sketches, received from a fraction of the hip-hop community suggests a growing forgetfulness of hip-hop’s long-standing relationship with jazz.

New Blue Sun was foreseen as the highly anticipated solo debut of André 3000, a man who, alongside Big Boi, is solidified as a hip-hop legend as a member of one of the most influential duos in hip-hop history, Outkast. Of course, it is 3 Stacks’ signature cadential flow, displayed throughout the Outkast discography, that hip-hop heads were anticipating an aural blessing from. As warned on the cover of the work—adorned with an outline of the seasoned flutist and featuring a hard-to-miss lime green label: No Bars.

The album is almost entirely instrumental, featuring a polyphonic blend of percussion, strings, keyboards, synths, and woodwinds, with André’s flute driving the downbeat. There are only faint, textural vocals performed by Mia Doi Todd. Other than that, no vocals. No bars. This ruffled some hip-hop heads, who utterly dismissed André’s official foray into jazz musicianship. Not only did a portion of hip-hop heads criticize the lack of rapping, but others accused the album and its various movements of lacking rhythm—a critique reminiscent of Western composers who once dismissed the advent of jazz. This is ironic, given that jazz is a precursor to hip-hop culture, forms a subgenre within it, and is heavily in classic hip-hop records, from Duke Ellington and John Coltrane to Miles Davis.

The defining mark of jazz music is the act of improvisation. André 3000’s recent works, including 7 Piano Sketches, feature an elementary approach to improv, as the hip-hop icon describes it, he simply spreads his “fingers out on the keys and randomly but with purpose moves them around until” he found “something that feels good or interesting.” This same “feel good” spontaneity is present in Louis Armstrong’s trumpet cadenza on “West End Blues,” in Miles Davis’ open trumpet solo on “So What,” and in the four-note motif John Coltrane springs in “A Love Supreme.” For those who listen to Fela Kuti, the Afrobeat pioneer and jazz enthusiast—improvisation is also the signature of his infectious musical movements.

Some 20th-century critics held biased views about jazz, deeming it unoriginal, nonlinguistic, and musically untutored, ultimately suggesting a certain feebleness in the genre due to its embrace of improvisation. Sociologist William Bruce Cameron described jazz “non-literate,” while others, such as British composer Constant Lambert, initially expressed a racist, anti-jazz bias. Lambert later conceded that a “small section” of the jazz technique was “genuinely negroid” and based on “sophisticated material,” ultimately acknowledging its intellectual rigor.

The criticism of the lack of rapping on André 3000’s recent works is telling as to a certain forgetfulness, or perhaps unawareness, among some hip-hop heads, particularly those who value lyrical virtuosity, regarding hip-hop’s historical connection to jazz. During hip-hop’s golden era in the late 1980s and early 1990s, jazz rap emerged just as gangsta rap and pop rap were dominating the airwaves and climbing the charts. Thanks to crews like the Native Tongues (A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, Jungle Brothers, etc), Digable Planets, and Gangstarr, jazz class acts like Ron Carter, Sonny Rollins, Charlie Parker, Herbie Hancock, alongside a plethora of jazz-infused funk records (including the drum breaks on Bill Wither’s “Use Me” and the horn licks from Kool and the Gang’s “N.T”)—jazz rap came into fruition through sampling and brewed a profound subculture. This subgenre stands out for its socially, politically, and spiritually charged lyrics and themes rooted in Afrocentricism.

The culture of jazz rap often thrived in underground cafés, jazz clubs, record stores, niche unauthorized radio stations, and college campuses—including HBCUs like Howard, R1 institutions like NYU, and Ivy Leagues like Columbia. Its grand favor among college students is attributed to the subgenre’s lyrical complexity, philosophical depth, and pro-Black rhetoric, all of which are seen as intellectually engaging. Jazz rap has frequently been regarded as an elite cerebral art form, with a magnetic pull for a highbrow, cultivated, and educated audience.

With the documented history between jazz and hip-hop, it’s reasonable to expect any practitioner of the genre to pursue a jazz musicianship in singularity. André 3000 appeared at this year’s Black Dandyism-themed Met Gala, dawning a seven key piano shaped ensemble—a clever marketing ploy for his latest work, 7 Piano Sketches. Time and space are central to this work, as André revealed, most of the album was recorded over a decade ago on his iPhone and laptop while he and his son were renting a house in Texas. The music was recorded through pure emotional trial and error, rendezvousing his favorite piano composers, including Thelonious Monk, Phillip Glass, and Joni Mitchell. Though the release may have seemed sporadic and impromptu, it ultimately moreover solidifies the Outkast emcee’s commitment to creating and releasing instrumental movements, professionally.

These last two works are not the first time he is showcasing this ability. It has been burgeoning since the prime of Outkast. On Outkast’s 2003 “My Favorite Things,” 3 Stacks played and arranged the piano which was a tribute to the great John Coltrane. In 2018, he released the EP Look Ma No Hands, featuring James Blake on the piano, which André himself on the base clarinetist—a straight up jazz piece and ode to his late mother, marking his first true jazz project which also shocked hip-hop heads. Over the past decade, he has also been spotted amid the wilderness of American civilization, unapologetically playing his flute on the corners of Soho, on church steps in Philly, and at airports throughout.

New Blue Sun was nominated for two Grammys this year—Album of the Year and Best Alternative Jazz Album. While a portion of hip-hop heads disfavored the absence of rapping, jazz enthusiasts and abstract music lovers embraced the work. It is a reality to face regarding the nature of this backlash: although hip-hop heads are under no obligation to favor the work, it is fair to suggest that objectivity should be applied when evaluating the work. Consider the stage of life 3 Stacks is in, and acknowledge a potentially haunting reality for hip-hop heads: one of your top three might just evolve out of rap.