REVIEW: ANDRÉ 3000 @ BOCH CENTER 10/30
Photo Credit: Kai Regan
Review by Olive Cantor
Stepping into the Boch Center on October 30th ostensibly simulated an entrance to an alternate world. The lavish, state-of-the-art architecture inside the venue quickly muffled the loud, traffic-filled cityscape of Chinatown, setting the stage for a performance no one could predict. Since his introduction to the cultural sphere, André 3000 Lauren Benjamin, better known by his stage name André 3000, has been prone to rejecting conventionality. From the 1995 Source Awards, where amidst a battle for mainstream dominance between the East and West coasts in rap music, he infamously declared, “The South got something to say,” André 3000 can’t help but propose a new direction.
Albeit, no one could have anticipated the radical creative shift he embarked on with the release of “New Blue Sun,” despite his persona of eccentricity. From his roots as one half of OutKast, the Georgia-bred rap duo, his notoriety derived from his brutally honest and quick-witted lyricism and his inclined nature towards experimenting with production. Since the split of OutKast in 2006, André 3000 sporadically appeared in features on other artists’ works, always bringing the intellect and creativity that the world now expects of him. Many listeners excitedly learned in late 2023 that he would release his first solo album post-OutKast—yet with one caveat: it would be an entirely instrumental album showcasing his work as a flutist.
Naturally, his legendary status upheld this genre shift, and the track “I Swear, I Really Wanted to Make a ‘Rap’ Album but This Is Literally the Way the Wind Blew Me This Time” became the lengthiest track to ever appear on the Billboard Hot 100. This unconditional support of his work physically manifested in the Boch Center this past Wednesday – the 3,500-seat theater was filled. Not only was it filled, but the crowd spanned so widely in age, race, and gender. Despite having no way to anticipate the content of the performance, the people of Boston showed out regardless – a testament to the substantiality of his work.
Serpentwithfeet kicked off the night with an electric performance, sporting two extra arms attached to his long black puffer coat. He justified the accessory by claiming, “the extra hands allow [him] to love more,” setting the stage for the crowd to engage with spiritual forces. Yet, as the lights began to dim and an announcement overhead urged patrons to put away their phones, a request which I was disappointed to see wasn’t entirely fulfilled, it became clear that we were not entering a concert that would indulge in the iconography of André 3000; we were entering a meditative space. Much like the album, Benjamin explained at the top of the show, the performance was entirely improvised. André 3000 places himself center stage, embarking on a 120-minute flute solo as his prolific backing band consisting of keyboards, guitars, percussion, and bass backed him.
While two hours may feel excessive for an entirely experimental show, it is important to note the hypnotic effects of the free-form nature of the performance, both sonically and visually – when the show ended, it felt as if thirty minutes had gone by. Simply put, the experience was a complete unlearning of the social script of live music. Instead of facilitating an atmosphere of performance of fandom and physicality, the music forced me to sit with myself, to let my mind wander, to interrogate why certain sounds made me feel certain ways or think certain things. It was a complete meditation, a manipulation of time, of space, a manipulation of what concerts can be – particularly from a mainstream artist.
At one point, André 3000 began to lament in what at first seemed like a foreign language but quickly became clear to be complete gibberish. “I’m not going to lie, I don’t know what I just said,” he laughed after a lengthy speech in his made-up language. “If your intonation sounds like you’re saying something profound, people will believe you’re saying something profound.” The audience laughed. I did, too. But it’s oddly indicative as to what André 3000 has discovered within the medium of music – the way to manipulate sound to evoke very specific responses – the form is the meaning. With the live performance under the creative playbook of “New Blue Sun,” freedom to roam is the meaning.