Outkast, Slimm Calhoun, Xzibit & Ludacris

They call themselves Outkast, but since the Halloween release of their fourth album, Stankonia, Antwan "Big Boi," "Daddy Phat Sacks" Patton and André "Dre" 3000 Benjamin have enjoyed an ever-increasing fan base. MTV/Top 40-type airplay and a much more varied following than is normally reserved for hip-hop acts are but two of the fruits of this crossover success. And when the cutting-edge duo brought its act to the North State, the Synthesis was first row, front and center.

Opening the show for the near capacity San Jose crowd was Ludacris, whose Def Jam South debut, "Back For The First Time," debuted at No. 4 on The Billboard 200 in November. Played in the foreground of a scaled-down production were the artist's biggest singles, "What's Your Fantasy" and "Southern Hospitality," as well as a number of cuts that were new to most in the crowd.

Next up was Xzibit, who is teaming up with Ludicris and the ATL crew on a handful of the 30-city tour's dates. X's set made the most of the Dr. Dre protégé's heavily charismatic style and energy as well as his proficient stage presence, no doubt a product of his not-so-well-known extensive experience. The former Alkoholic played a well-received five- or six-song set.

Also joining in on the fun was Slimm "Cutta" Calhoun, who, if you haven't heard of him, you soon will. Slimm, an ATL native has been running with the boys from Outkast for years. A full-fledge member of the Dungeon Crew, Slimm's album, Skinny is hot, and it's slated to drop April 10^th. Among the crowd favorites were "Timelock," a Skinny cut that nearly ended up on Outkast's Stankonia, "Well" and "It's OK," showcases André 3000's skills.

As the multi-platinum duo took the stage, anticipation flooded the arena. And when the high-paced, rampant guitar solo of "Gasoline Dreams" played, it erupted. Immediately distinguishing themselves from most any other hip-hop act I'd seen live, the Outkast clique came equipped with a live backup band, enough amplifiers and PAs to deafen a small continent, and their unmistakable and unadulterated unique funk / rap milkshake that they call Stankonia. But more noteworthy was what wasn't in the show that the audience was expecting. Missing were the numerous costume changes so commonplace at most shows. Missing were the several breaks, which usually serve to do little but disrupt the flow of a show. Missing were junk-in-the-trunk dancers, though I night not have minded their inclusion — at least as much. And missing, as they always are from Outkast's music, were the overused samples usually hijacked from some '70s soul to mask the lack of any tangible musical talent. In fact, the one thing not missing from Outkast and the group's performances — the element that allows the exclusion of the aforementioned stage show standbys — is musical talent. Indeed, even with —and perhaps due to — all of these missing platitudes, all seemed overwhelmingly satisfied with the duo's effort.

Outkast was on stage for more than two hours, treating the audience to the beats and rhymes from Southernplayalisticadillacmusik through Stankonia — embedded in our psyches on almost a Jungian level. And like their latest album, the show was not just a trip, but a journey. Produced with theatrical excellence more commonly seen on a Broadway play, and Pavarotti opera or a Vegas showgirl production, the music was only interrupted by a few Curtis Mayfield-esque interludes, with Dre and Big Boi never leaving the stage.

On several of the fastest songs played like "Bombs Over Baghdad" and "Humble Mumble" Outkast was joined by a dozen dancers that matched the hyped tempo of the twosome step for word, move for beat. The highly imaginative, choreographed and interactive dancing met the lofty standard for visualization created by the groundbreaking sounds of perhaps the hottest act in hip-hop today.

And when this night of Southernplayalisticadillacmusik was over, there was no stilted setup for the cliché encore. Instead, the lights were raised as everyone calmly turned and exited, amazed by the two hours of revolutionary tunes they just took in. "They played everything," I barely heard one satisfied spectator mumble over the ringing in my ears that lasted three days after the show was over.

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