Ammar Kalia 

André 3000 review – live spiritual jazz leaves hip-hop visionary with nowhere to hide

The former rapper starts promisingly with earthy improvisation but the band drifts disappointingly with no solos and few flashes of emotion
  
  

An hour of free improvisation … André 3000.
An hour of free improvisation … André 3000. Photograph: Joshua Hiatt

When rapper André 3000 decided to put his mic down in 2023 and release his first album in almost two decades as a flautist leading a spiritual jazz ensemble, it was met with mixed responses. American jazz magazine Downbeat called New Blue Sun a record where “the music rarely rises above atmospheric noodling”, while Pitchfork awarded it Best New Album.

Whether you see the record as a brave step into the unknown from a hip-hop visionary or 90 minutes of wistful tooting on woodwinds seems to be a matter of subjectivity. Yet, when it comes to jazz, a genre premised on the instinctive self-expression of improvisation, the proof is in the live experience. On stage, there is nowhere to hide – not even behind a Teotihuacan drone flute.

Dressed in denims, a red beanie and enveloping headphones, André 3000 takes to the tiny stage of London’s Jazz Cafe for the first of two performances this evening. Flanked by players from New Blue Sun, including LA spiritual jazz stalwarts Carlos Niño and Nate Mercereau, the group launch into an hour of free improvisation to a packed crowd.

Things start promisingly: percussionist Niño creates textural soundscapes with rustling palm fronds and a softly beaten gong while André plays a whispering synthesised melody through a Midi woodwind. The mood is earthy and atmospheric and as the improvisations continue, Deantoni Parks brings in an increasingly dark palette of bass-laden synths, leading André to find a more dexterous and lyrical fingering on his flute.

The music undulates on a linear motif: mid-tempo, mid-volume and meditative. No one breaks out into a solo, sinks into an intimate whisper or modulates into another mode. Instead, as the hour progresses and that dark synth gives way to brighter tones, it’s hard to shake the feeling that we are watching a band gradually drifting without intent. Flashes of emotion come when André vocalises off-mic but otherwise he is constrained to simple phrasing on his instrument, unable to lead his accomplished band elsewhere.

Whether it’s an issue of skill keeping André stuck or an effort to strive for transcendence through repetition, the result is disappointing. A slow stream of revellers filter out before the show is over and the rest of us are left asking what the point of this project actually is.

 

Leave a Comment

Required fields are marked *

*

*