BOSTON – In a word, krunk. In another word, Spottiottidopalicious. No matter how you describe it, Sunday night’s Outkast show at the Orpheum was as high-energy as their single “Bombs over Baghdad.”
The stage was hidden by the same black and white American flag that serves as the backdrop for their latest album, Stankonia. However, as soon as the lights went down, the flag was pulled back, revealing an underground lair with three back-up singers, two electric guitarists, four dancers, one DJ and two ATLiens; Andre 3000 and Big Boi (a.k.a. Daddy Fat Sax).
Though the recent Rolling Stone review of the Outkast tour claimed that the band stayed away from reliving older cuts, the Orpheum show proved to be a showcase for the evolution of the band and its progressive albums.
After opening the show with the first track off Stankonia, “Gasoline Dreams,” Dre and Big Boi took the crowd back all the way to their debut album Southernplayalisticadallacmusic. “Hootie Hoo,” “Ain’t No Thang” and slizzard “Player’s Ball” blended into one another as the crowd sang along with the hooks.
Andre 3000, dressed in a blue sequin body suit and white wig, and Big Boi, brandishing an Atlanta jersey and sunglasses, kept the crowd alive by calling out, “just throw your hands in the a-yer and wave ’em like you just don’t cay-er,” and then hearing the crowd call back “and if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit, everybody let me hear yah say oh yea-yer,” during their visit to the ATLiens album. What looked like a million pairs of hands swayed back and forth as the hook creamed. “Wheelz of Steel” and “Elevators” also made the crowd roar after the duo played the title track off their sophomore record.
As the beats bumped on, Outkast ventured into more recent territory with the cuts, “Da Art of Storytellin’,” “Skew It on the Bar-B,” and then later “Rosa Parks” from the 1998 release, Aquemini.
For over two hours the Georgia natives kept the crowd amped-up and krunk, calling out and feeding off the energy from the screaming fans. Dre and Big Boi didn’t stop to take a breath from the beginning of the show all the way to the end when they brought the theater to Stankonia with “Spaghetti Junction,” “So Fresh So Clean,” “We Luv Deez Hoez,” “Humble Mumble,” “Red Velvet,” and, of course, the hits “Ms. Jackson” and “B.O.B.”
For a few cuts, Outkast let their prodigies Slimm Calhoun and Backbone take the stage. The song “Gangsta Sh*t” was even more enhanced when C-Bone from the Goodie Mob came out to share a rhyme with ‘kast. In between bustin’ out the fly hits, Outkast drew out a bevy of host rappers and even showcased some of their new stuff that will be on their upcoming conglomeration album with the Dungeon Family.
Although the show kept on thumpin’ there was no stopping the excitement of the crowd or the supreme performance of the stars. Outkast played just about every song that anyone would want to hear. Andre 3000 swayed his hips in his signature dance styles, and flashed his million-dollar smile while Big Boi directed the mirage of guests in the art of hip-hop. The two dope boyz in a Cadillac seemed comfortable on stage and happy to play as long as the crowd was willing to dance. And dance they did.
The Outkast boyz were the pinnacle of gangsta pimps, and showed class and timing in their amazing performance. Helped along by DJ Swift and Lil’ Willy, one of their back-up singers, the duo kept the entire venue on its feet and played one of the best, hyped-up, and southernplayalistic shows straight from Stankonia.
Arriving late to catch only the last three songs of Ludacris’ set, our tardiness garnered us the Atlanta rapper at his peak, during his final three and most well-known songs. “Ho” had the crowd excited for what was likely the first Ludacris song they recognized, and the Orpheum was more than receptive to the tongue-in-cheek chickenhead anthem. The same went for “What’s Your Fantasy,” the peppy sex romp that brought the rapper to national acclaim.
The highlight of Ludacris’ set, undoubtedly, came at the end, surprising no one whom had already figured out what the revealing of a “Throw Dem Bows” T-shirt signified. The beat, following the de-shirting of Ludacris’ fellow rapper (and subsequent female shrieking), of “Southern Hospitality” kicked in and floored everyone with the towering Neptunes’ production. It was during the creative, distinct wordplay of this Dirty South classic when Ludacris truly seemed in the league of his otherworldly tourmates.
