As the fourth highest scoring album all-time on the "Rotten-Tomatoes-but-for-everything" website Metacritic (dating back to 2000), and second only to Loretta Lynn's Van Lear Rose in terms of new material, Stankonia represents a quintessential listening experience for the new millenium.
As an introductory note, it's difficult to live up to such lofty expectations. I've listened to Brian Wilson's Smile, portions of Van Lear Rose, and Bob Dylan's Love and Theft, and cautiously hoped for brilliance. It never quite works out that way.
The four things that Stankonia has going for it are: 1) ambition (at 24 tracks, Outkast have crafted a hip hop opus of sorts, with every good idea they could muster stirred up into one giant pot); 2) talent (the pairing of Andre 3000's spacey horniness with Big Boi's earnest street credence still feels improbable and ordained); 3) a keen sense for the bizarre (this monster is straight up weird); 4) some amazing singles ("Ms. Jackson" kicks "Hey Ya" to the curb, "So Fresh, So Clean" and "Spaghetti Junction" impressively combine both style and substance, and "B.O.B." is manically epic).
This eclecticism is, however, both strength and weakness. Few learned from the greatest rap album of all time, Nas's Illmatic, a ten track-no skit gem. Stankonia's seven skits are mostly short and harmless, but generally unnecessary. Also, for every two winners ("We Love Deez Hoes" and "Humble Mumble," there's something skipable ("I'll Call B4 I Cum"). Then there's the incomprehensible, something like "Toilet Tisha," which is both refreshingly odd and decidedly inessential at the same time.
Thus, no verdict on my favorite Outkast album yet. Next up: Aquemini.
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