André 3000’s Fondness for the Flute Means More Than You Think

André’s new album is a reminder that we play by our own tune and timeline. But it’s up to us to be receptive, to recognise and then rejoice in it.

André 3000, a man of music, tartan ties, French berets and aquamarine coloured shirts. Yes, all at the same time.

“Life is not made of logic. Life is made of magic. It’s the accidental encounters. It’s the things you can’t explain.” – Bozoma Saint John

Thanks to Instagram’s all-knowing algorithm and guesswork at what I like, I had the pleasure of discovering André 3000’s new album, New Blue Sun. New album launches by established artists is not groundbreaking news. But this one struck a chord and made a declaration beyond the usual announcement of making an album and then releasing it out into the world. The most obvious declaration is that the genre and type of music (new age ambient music using wind instruments) in this album is completely different to what fans associate and know André for (experimental rap), with some claiming that “It is one of the most radical evolutions in pop history.” Another obvious declaration is that this album is André’s first since 2006 as part of multiple Grammy award-winning duo Outkast so the suspense and expectations are high. Yet the less obvious – but the most important – declaration speaks of the significance of tuning into the frequency and sound of our own inner dialogue as it is here that we begin to trust and have faith in what we are being guided to do. Or in André’s case, on this occasion, not do – write a rap.

Some rappers have voiced that they are uncomfortable with André’s honesty about feeling too old to rap, although he doesn’t strictly rule it out in the future. GQ journalist Zach Baron observes that André “can’t help but do what he wants to do, even if it’s not what other people want him to do.” This statement can resonate with many with most of us experiencing, at various points and stages in our lives, the fiercely independent tug of our destiny calling us to follow a specific direction, even if it makes no logical sense to others.  

Yet for whatever reason, some people feel compelled to act outside of themselves and defy their own inner calling. Some do this out of self-perceived necessity. Others do it for approval from others. Many are fearful of the unknown destination it will lead them to, thinking that life can be lived in predictable, prescriptive way which will make their lives safer and more secure (note to these people: life doesn’t work that way, regardless of how much you try to control it). But sometimes there is a greater meaning and lesson from our self-imposed delaying of what we want to do. This delay often appears as lessons we need to learn, spiritual or otherwise, that we need to experience so that we can expand, grow wiser and be prepared for the next level and stage of life.

Believing, but not (yet) seeing

Wisdom is frequently associated with age and experience. But what about the wisdom which comes from acting on our intuition and emotions, the invisible muscles we have been gifted to use? We have the responsibility to flex and keep them working at their highest level, but why do we sometimes choose to ignore it, and for what reason? If we don’t cherish our intuition and emotions, how can we become the highest, most evolved version of ourselves? In his wide-ranging interview with GQ, André says that his entire creative process is based on feeling and that timing and momentum is more important than talent, suggesting that feelings are the frequencies that turbocharges and concentrates our energy to the places and spaces we are called to go next.   

In an AI and technological age that places significant focus and emphasis on logic and attempting to control the uncontrollable such as nature, people’s feelings, how we interpret the world, the timing and meaning of events, André’s new album is a refreshing reminder that we are each individual and independent-minded fragments of our collective Universe. What makes something successful – on an individual as well as on a collective basis – tends to come from a place of knowing ourselves, recognising the intrinsic worth of what we do, trusting our timing for whatever it is we are creating, and that people are ready and willing to receive and respond to it.

Reflecting on nature, it’s unusual how humans repeatedly question their own instinct and ability to grow and evolve – the most natural characteristic of all living things – yet seeds, the source of all plant life, never question their ability to grow and expand into their full, living potential. They don’t stifle their growth at the expense of the plants they are surrounded by, even if the other plants may be bigger and bolder than the seed. They don’t question if there is enough space for them to blossom (please correct me if I’m wrong to any botanists reading this). They simply grow and other plants make room for them. Just imagine if humanity didn’t overthink this.

As indicated by André’s album title New Blue Sun, we are but orbits circulating and responding to the sun (our intuition). If we don’t respond to the sun’s light and intuition but instead get distracted by the sounds of other planets (the world) telling us to move this way and go in that direction, how are we to peacefully gravitate towards the destination which is meant for us? André’s message that he couldn’t plan who he was with Outkast, nor plan its ending, is a contributing factor of why it turned out to be a success – he did what he felt called to do at the time and used his discernment to lean towards what fuelled his excitement, what gave him joy. In his own words, “I can’t put something out in the world and not be excited about it, because how can I expect you to be excited about it?”

Sensing our way to the surface

André’s comment reminds us that to conduct our very own symphony and to participate in the orchestra of our lives, we first need to identify what it is we want to play, rather than what we don’t. And it underlines the fact that in order to play, we first need to listen. The playfully-named first song on his album (“I swear, I Really Wanted To Make A ‘Rap’ Album But This Is Literally The Way The Wind Blew Me This Time”) acknowledges that his desire to rap and continue the same musical pattern he has always followed, until now, is no longer in sync with what he is being called to do and which direction he is being asked to invest his curiosity. But like his experimental innovation with Outkast, perhaps André’s need to express himself in a way that is lifegiving – even if his new music is deemed as “New Age music for an age that hasn’t quite dawned yet” – will give life to other ideas and tastes that will come to form, highlighting that self-expression is far more interconnected and communal than we give it credit for.   

There’s something interesting about André’s choice of instrument – the flute – which speaks of truth. Truth to himself and being completely truthful to his audience. Ardal Powell, the author of The Flute, says that the flute is “the closest instrument to the human voice”, with no reed or mouthpiece separating the player’s breath from the sound it makes. In this interview André’s observes “I don't even know what notes I'm playing. So everything, every move for me is new, which is kind of crazy, but it feels great to do it because when you find things, you're like, 'Oh, it's like a reward for searching.”

In other words, where truth exists, so does liberation. As noted by Enuma Okoro, art can be thought of as a form of truth telling, about being a beholder of the times and our lives. In a time of online disinformation where truth isn’t always a given, and living in a western culture that fails to fully celebrate the gifts that come with aging, this album feels radically truthful. Truth is often (and rather strangely, in my view) perceived as difficult and uncomfortable, but André’s interpretation of truth appears transcendent, peaceful and joyful. I wonder if we all thought of truth as a lifegiving energy rather than something to be feared or pushed down would we all begin to have the courage to be ourselves, at all times.

Winter and Christmas are a time for hibernation. It offers us the opportunity to reflect on the year gone by, the one ahead and how we want to live and be in it. André’s album is a timely reminder that if we are receptive to it, we can create and instigate new pathways (creative or otherwise) for ourselves and actively enjoy the direction we are heading towards, even if the end destination isn’t fully formed yet. The beginning of a new year often links to the loud ambitions and accomplishments we want to achieve, the stuff we “want to get done”. But having listened to New Blue Sun I have become more swayed by the silence of intuitive conviction, quiet receptivity, meeting the moment of where I find myself and trusting that what is meant for me will find me. A life lived by the rules of logic can “work”, to a certain extent, but a life with space for the unexpected is all the more harmonious.