Summerplayalisticadillacmuzik: Outkast is a Soundtrack for All of Us

All photos by Petya Shalamanova

OutKast are Southern, without question, but their headlining performance Saturday night at Chicago's Lollapalooza felt like a homecoming. Thinking about the band’s performances from earlier in the spring and summer (and the reportedly less than enthusiastic crowds), the electricity of the evening in downtown Chicago was insanely palpable.

The show began with “B.O.B.” and transitioned into a medley of hits. The crowd has been waiting all day for this. The energy was almost overwhelming with festivalgoers immediately jumping up and down and not stopping. I had to remind myself to not fall or look back. For their return to the city and a return to the stage after many years, it was a perfect start.

Lollapalooza is a music festival that skews young and “B.O.B.” was the perfect track to translate to the youthful audience (that was the first OutKast single I ever loved, too). Earlier in the day, I met festivalgoers to discuss street style and the majority were under the age of 25. They were happy that OutKast was there, but not desperate to see their set.

But as the first few notes of the song became decipherable after a glitchy introduction, I saw many rush over to the south end of the park and run down the stairs or sloped and grassy hills.

If they didn’t know what to expect, they were quickly given a glimpse of the evening: everything folks–old fans and new–would love.

I started thinking about how and when I first started listening to OutKast. I probably wasn’t much older than the young faces I saw in the crowd. It was definitely during one of the tween dance parties I frequented with my friends and it was definitely an eye-opening moment for me, a girl still stuck between my mother’s R&B and whatever pop they played on local Top 40 stations like B96 or KIIS FM.

That’s not to say that OutKast changed everything about how or why I listened to music. But they definitely helped, letting me know that music can both be weird and good. Weirdness was not some sort of outlying factor, some sort of symbol of the people I didn’t understand when I was younger. No, it could be for everybody and it could be catchy as well. I don’t think I would have transitioned to techno or noise or no wave without them. It sounds strange, but all it takes is one band or one album (in my case, 2000’s Stankonia, released when I was 13 years old) to make an impression.

OutKast are a truly classic band that spans different generations. It's weird to process, having firmly grown up when they were making their best and most sophisticated work, but it's true. OutKast reunited because the fans and crowds and generations were there. While they were gone, young millennials and whatever the next generation is were listening to their records, discovering bits and pieces from the past, loving it and not finding it retro so much as just good music.

The hits are always gonna win over a mixed crowd, regardless of the band. But for a festival like Lollapalooza, it was extra special. In competition at the same time with performers like Calvin Harris, a producer that lost his weirdness in the aughts and embraced a buffer, tanner, more translatable identity to gain mainstream success, OutKast, showed the audience how true originality is done.

I felt at ease with myself and with my surroundings. It was an untrue homecoming that still felt real. They were returning to a special city, this city. And I too was coming home, remembering and appreciating the importance of weird music in my past and present.

Many who were exhausted by the earlier summer heat and expansive park rested on the lawn as the band blazed through their hits. But as Big Boi played his relatively recent remix (read: in comparison to OutKast’s actual 90s classics) of “Kryptonite,” many got to their feet.

“I’ve been working all damn day at the store to hear this one,” a young black woman in her 20s said next to me.

Many teens near me stayed for at least the first thirty minutes before heading over to whatever contemporary act they were most interested in at the moment. That felt at least partially planned by the festival organizers. Their set was scheduled to run from 8:15 to 10, a full 15 minutes longer than the normal headliners’ hour and a half. Still, the band made it to the stage about 10 minutes late, putting a kink in audiences’ scheduling plans. But it wasn’t a desperately long wait and after waiting years (and for many like myself, my whole life) to see OutKast live, it was only a minor inconvenience.

“I’m glad I got to hear some of it,” one girl said while leaving the southern end of the park to view performances from the northern end.

After a few songs, the group actually introduced themselves to the audience, acknowledging who was who on each monitor. "They’re OutKast!," I wrote in my notes. "They don’t need to introduce themselves."

But it was a great gesture, even a little sweet. Was this a response to their earlier performances? Perhaps. Or maybe they were just being the gentleman we’ve always known them to be. Even on a stage in front of thousands and thousands, they still took time to reach out to the audience. If the crowd was on board before, they were devoted soon after.

“Are you having a good time?” Andre 3000 asked. “Are you still having a good time?” and the audience was.

Before they transitioned into their next medley of song, the two gave Chicago a special shoutout, saying the city held a special place in their heart. I even heard a mention of Ramonski Luv, the beloved former nighttime co-host of “The Real Show” with Joe Soto.

"Y'all know Ms. Johnson?” they then teased. “Janet Jackson? Michael Jackson?” and finally, “Ms. Jackson?" before jumping into the song.. It was the one song everyone knew more than others, with the crowd eagerly singing along to each verse. And as “SpottieOttieDopalicious” began, things truly fell into place.

Nearby, the Chicago White Sox battled the Minnesota Twins . It was strange to think that other parts of the city kept moving when the most interesting events of the night took place in Grant Park. The ritual baseball night game fireworks soon exploded in the air, perfectly timed with the chorus. It was not organic to the setting, but like the band itself, it fell nicely in line with a city eager to capture everything they gave.

You should follow Britt Julious on Twitter - @britticisms.

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