the LUNA music word 'em up: BIG BOI - Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty (Purple Ribbon/Def Jam)

Of the stupidest decisions made by a record company in recent years is the one made by Jive records to cock block the release of Big Boi's, a/k/a Antwan André Patton, proper solo debut "Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty." Originally set for release in 2008, the album quickly became a point of contention between Patton and Jive, whose parent company, Sony Music Entertainment, had released Outkast's classic and innovative albums "Aquemini" and "Stankonia." Jive felt the album was not "radio-friendly" enough, but instead "a piece of art" that, according to Patton, they didn't know what to do with. Patton has said that they wanted something a little more in line with Little Wayne, than apparently the groundbreaking work he had already produced as one half of Outkast. As a result, Patton left Jive records altogether to release the album on Def Jam, but not before Jive's shortsighted doucheness robbed the album of three songs featuring Patton's Outkast partner André "André 3000" Benjamin, including, unforgivably, the much heralded "Royal Flush" (Outkast still have one album left on their Jive/Sony contract and Jive prevented anything resembling Outkast from being released on Patton's album). Maybe part of Jive's problem was perception. Big Boi has always been seen as the more "normal" member of Outkast in comparison to the more flamboyant and tripped out André 3000. Jive probably thought they could count on Big Boi for a banging Dirty South party album, and instead got something more in line with the popular experimentation that made Outkast so damn unique in the first place. Regardless of the reasons for their disconnect, Jive fucked up - big time. Big Boi's proper solo debut is a sound to behold. It's a hip hop album for the ages.

Like Ghostface Killah and Raekwon before him, Big Boi has produced a solo work that sets him apart from the legendary group from which he sprang. And like Ghostface and Raekwon's classic albums, "Sir Lucious Left Foot" sounds like nothing else. There is certainly a bit of the Dirty South flavor here, but this is far from a southern rap album. If this were food it would be fusion with a southern undertone. It's just as satisfying as a well cooked traditional meal, but way more complex. Take a song like "Daddy Fat Sax;" with a beat that will rattle the hell out of any subwoofer, the song also features a melody of chilly synths that wouldn't sound out of place on an Oneohtrix Point Never album. Understand, though, this isn't Big Boi grabbing onto current trends and mixing them up with hip hop beats, not only because most of these tracks are at least two years old, which places these songs well ahead of the curve, but because Patton, the constant innovator, has crafted a wholly original sound on "Sir Lucious," with zero regard for anyone else's trendsetting. He is, as he declares throughout "Sir Lucious," a leader, not a follower. That isn't bravado, it's just a simple fact. Even while ensuring that the tracks have at least one toe in traditional head-bobbing, booty-shaking territory, Patton is constantly taking left turns at every corner. For instance, "Follow Us," contains a catchy as hell rousing pop chorus that could easily have ended up sounding like one of those crappy bands that Jive loves so much, but instead Patton's wordplay and a synth arpeggio that runs throughout the piece elevates it into something else entirely. It's just as catchy and just as accessible as what passes for popular music these days, but instead of crushing your soul it's actually good for you.

This is where Jive's, and by extension most major labels', shortsightedness, really comes into focus. "Follow Us," along with the pitch perfect "Shutterbug" and the deliriously wonderful "Night Night" are some of the finest hip-hop pop songs of this, or any, year; and those are just the tracks that immediately come to mind. The fact that no one at Jive could find a hit on this album is pathetic beyond belief, proving a disturbing lack of imagination at Sony. But enough of my anti-major label rant, back to the wonderfulness that is "Sir Lucious Left Foot."

Two tracks that deserve special attention are the album's heaviest - "General Patton" and "Tangerine." "Patton" is all well-earned bravado whose muscle comes not from the beat, but from a repeated horn fanfare and the chorus of an Italian opera. It's a banger all right, but it sounds like nothing else, other than Big Boi's ceaseless innovation. "Tangerine" is dark dank and x-rated. Toms bash out the beat, while a subdued blues guitar winds its way through the hot and heavy track like a snake. The song also contains the refrain "shake it like a tambourine," and once you hear "Tangerine," you may forget all about shaking it like a Polaroid.

It isn't just Patton's ability to stretch musical boundaries that makes "Sir Lucious Left Foot" the success it is, lyrically as well Big Boi never ceases to amaze. Patton's rapid fire delivery punctuated by perfectly timed breakdowns of certain words in service of the rhythm makes for one of rap's truly great voices. Combining bravado, horniness and social commentary (often within the same track), Patton's lyrics, even at their rawest, are sometimes thought provoking, sometimes grin inducing, but always brilliantly constructed.

In the face of delays, label drama, and wrongly being considered the less creative half of Outkast, "Sir Lucious Left Foot" is Big Boi's vindication. It's an album that reinvigorates a genre, taking its place alongside other boundary busting classics like "The Black Album," and "Graduation," while, at the same time, providing a mid-career revival similar to Raekwon's return to greatness on "Cuban Linx II." More than anything though, "Sir Lucious" sounds fresher than fresh. This isn't a titan returning to form, this is an innovator hammering out new ideas and sounds that moves minds and bodies, in equal measure, at every delirious twist and turn.

Wheeler was too busy shaking it like a tambourine to comment on this album, other than to say "I need this."

"General Patton"

"Follow Us"