September 29, 1998 by A.S. Van Dorston

While everybody was paying attention to rappers poofing out their chests like little birds and boasting about all the cash they’re making slinging coke, Atlanta, Georgia’s Outkast snuck up from behind with their third album under their arms to become the best hip-hop band in the world. God knows why it has taken nearly twenty years for hip-hop to develop a gritty groove that can stand next to the best of 70s southern-fried soul and funk, but be grateful that it has happened at all. Outkast are on the scene, ready to pimp-slap all the wanna-be’s and throw down the real deal. The album warms up with Dre and Big Boi’s signature staccato rap flows on “Hold On, Be Strong.” On “Rosa Parks” the rhymes reflect a sense of humor, but also a sort of melancholy wisdom. But it’s the music that truly sets them apart, as demonstrated when the album kicks into overdrive with a trio of the title track, “Synthesizer” (featuring the falsetto contributions of Pappy Dr. Funkenstein, George Clinton) and “Slump.” The true peak of the album is the stunning slow-jam of “SpottieOttieDopaliscious,” a tribute of sorts to Isaac “Chef” Hayes that transcends his “Hyperbolicsyllabicsequedalymistic” with mournful yet sexy horn charts. “When I first met my SpottieOttieDopaliscious Angel/I can remember that damn thang like yesterda/The way she moved reminded me of a Brown Stallion horse with skates on/Smooth like a hot comb on nappy ass hair/I walked up on her and was almost paralyzed/Her neck was smellin sweeter than a plate of yams with extra syrup/Eyes beaming like four carats apiece just blindin a nigga/Felt like I chiefed a whole “O” of that Presidential/My heart was beating so damn fast/Never knowing this moment would bring another life into this world/Funny how shit come together sometimes [ya dig].” What more can I say? “Go and marinate on that for a minute.”