#9: ANDRE 3000
Andre Benjamin is one of those rappers that everybody knows, everybody respects and too few put into this “Greatest Rappers of All Time” listing. Ever inventive, ever flawless (seriously, look at his catalog, he doesn’t deliver bad verses, much like his Outkast compatriot Big Boi) the man has the uncanny ability to tap into the depths of lyrical brilliance with ease. Maybe its because he’s from Atlanta, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s exchanged familiarities with the Goddess herself Erykah Badu, I don’t know. But hell, he’s great. Period.
Why He’s Here
Two words: consistent brilliance. Every rapper, one way or another, can say that they have had duds, even the other people on this list, but not Andre 3000. Andre 3000 literally put out a neo-funk album and it was as lauded as anything he had done with Outkast prior to it. It’s unfair, yes, but Andre can do no wrong when he is in his zone musically. And as far as I can tell, he’s never NOT in his zone musically. That being said…
Why He’s Not Higher
Two words: missing person. Much like Jay Electronica, Andre 3000 is understandably lauded, but he tends to go missing for months at a time, with little if any kind of clue to his whereabouts. Where is he? Atlanta? Europe? Depths of Hell? Clevela… eww. No, not Cleveland. Pretty sure he’s never in Cleveland: he’s actually worth a damn. It isn’t the same as him focusing on his film career: plenty of rappers go into acting (why?) and lead successful careers. At one point Mr. Benjamin owned a film studio with Quentin Tarantino and he’s had major roles in plenty of films, both comical and dramatic.
But a musician has to be just that: a musician. Not knocking Andre’s style, but it doesn’t matter how consistent you are if you can claim 100% perfection after two albums. That’s hyperbole for the sake of a greater argument, not Andre himself. I need a greater, more consistent catalog to work with, and while Andre has that with Outkast and a year of perfect guest verses (“Walk it out like a usher…”) he fades in and out of rap obscurity (rapscurity? Rap City?) there are others in my list that can claim that kind of consistency and lack of milk cartons.
Favorite Tracks/Verses (Incomplete)
“Elevators (Me and You)” — Outkast
“International Players Anthem” — UGK feat. Outkast
“A Life in the Day of Benjamin Andre” (Incomplete) — Andre 3000
“Thought Process” — Goodie Mob feat. Andre 3000
#10: FATLIP
Derrick Stewart is an odd fellow. He raps with a very laid back, conversational style, he’s participated in that MTV show Jackass, and on more than one occasion he’s shown up on tracks with legendary emcees. Fatlip was part of arguably the most acclaimed hip-hop collective from the West Coast that didn’t subscribe to the gangsta mentality with The Pharcyde, accidentally got pleasured by a transvestite, and a lot of people don’t know who he is.
Well, they do, but they don’t realize that they do. Back in 2004 he had a cameo in a certain southern rapper’s video, as the guy who wouldn’t leave Ludacris alone when he was just trying to use the toilet. Yeah, Get Back. That was Fatlip. There’s some history there, I know, but I’ll be damned if I go into heavy examination why.
Why He’s Here
Fatlip stood out from the rest of his West Coast contemporaries, specifically his group, by his uniqueness. Within The Pharcyde he didn’t have the highest voice, or the widest vocabulary, or whatever it is that SlimKid3 has (it’s something, but I don’t know WHAT it is: it’s pretty cool though). Fatlip had a conversational style. Fatlip had a laid back swagger. Fatlip was just hilarious.
We look at contemporary rappers from the West Coast like Hopsin, Tyler, the Creator, even the Black Hippy collective and we hear plenty of stylistic influences from the more controversial side of West Coast’s hip-hop lineage. In Tyler, the Creator and a lot of early Odd Future we could hear plenty of shock rap and gasp-worthy content, but in a way it was meant to spark conversation and interest: it masked some serious talent. Fatlip did not innovate that nor was he the most shocking (that title goes to Big Lurch) but when Bizarre Ride 2 the Pharcyde dropped it featured a lovely little track called “4 Better or 4 Worse”, and Fatlip’s verse was the most shocking thing the light-hearted album offered. It had him calling a woman and explaining the grisly things he was going to do to her, only to reveal it was all a joke at the end; to this day I wonder why the woman didn’t just hang the phone up. Aside from this delivery (as a whole), maybe that’s what I like most about the Lip: he just seemed to go into the studio and have fun.
Of course, it’s easy to make that claim for Bizarre Ride. It was an album made by kids having fun, talking about dreams, fear of matrimony (“4 Better or 4 Worse”), lost love and getting high, in addition to making juvenile Yo Mama jokes in a song. At the time you could argue that Fatlip and SlimKid3 were competing for the unofficial title of front man, but Fatlip just made his presence known by being so cool. That continued with Labcabincalifornia when he and the group turned a bit more retrospective, and if “She Said” is one of the pinnacles of the Pharcyde career he can claim one of the finest performances with his rap on the song.
But I’m not really explaining why I’m a fan. For me, my fandom was sealed with the documentary that came bundled with his solo debut The Loneliest Punk. It was a 30 minute foray into a day in the life of Derrick Stewart, from wearing a clown suit, to talking about his time with the group and the drug use that got him kicked out, to the pièce de résistance itself: the time he made out with a transvestite. There’s being a good emcee, there’s being a funny guy, and there’s being a guy not afraid to tell the world about something the most open of people would have a problem even recalling to a therapist. Not a knock against transvestites or anything, but hip-hop is still a very much masculinity dominated realm, and even showing the slightest sign of femininity or non-masculinity is met with criticism. Hell, look at how we treat Drake.
Speaking of Fatlip’s solo LP, it was fun to listen to. It had far too many skits, and came far to long after the lead single “What’s Up, Fatlip?” (at the end of the above video) came out, but it was pretty gun to listen to. Not too many can entertain consistently throughout their known career, but Fatlip combined his humor, self-deprecation, humbling experiences and relationship with Spike Jonze into a decent career. There’s more to come, yes, but for now I’m more than overjoyed with what I’ve heard and seen.
Why He’s Not Higher
Simple really: I enjoy listening to some rappers more. Fatlip had an unintentional habit of sounding like the only guy out of puberty in The Pharcyde at one point, which broke some of the immersion, and as said before: the wait between lead single and solo LP was REALLY long. Five years long. There’s also the level of consistency and his catalog. He has two albums with The Pharcyde and one solo LP, along with a handful of random tracks. He’s remained consistent in a sense, but not for the longest time. Nostalgia plays just as much a role in my fandom as anything.
Speaking of nostalgia, Fatlip was part of a movement with a lot of guys who ran the risk of sounding the same. Ahmad’s “Back in the Day” remix, known for its Teddy Pendergrass sample and easy-going vibe, is often mistaken for a Pharcyde song, and that’s because a lot of guys back then REALLY did sound similarly. This is a fault of circumstance, but there’s the fact that part of why we remember the Lip so well is because of how he joked about himself and that he was on crack. Fatlip may be the most known unknown in terms of hip-hop’s 90s West Coast alternative scene, and for good reason, but not quite enough to be higher than number ten.
Take care though, Lip: my list of favorite rappers goes well into 40. I may cheat a bit, but being at number ten is pretty damn big.
Favorite Tracks/Verses (Incomplete)
“All I Want for Christmas (Is Somebody Else)” — Fatlip, Tre Hardson, St. Imey
Weight in Words: Redux 