Review: André 3000 Cast a Spell With His Flute on New Blue Sun Tour

Anticipation was high as André 3000 took the stage at the Ellie Caulkins Opera House on October 17, with collaborators Carlos Niño (percussion, various other instruments), Surya Botofasina (keyboards) and Deantoni Parks (percussion) at the ready to perform riffs on last year's group effort, the flute-driven jazz odyssey New Blue Sun.

After serpentwithfeet's opening set of intimate and sensual neo-R&B warmed us up to a pleasant simmer, the stage slowly filled with smoke while the Ellie brimmed with Denver's most stylish. Every faction of the hip-hop and hipster communities seemed to have sent a delegation: there were suit jackets and leather jackets, high heels and Timb's, haute couture and hoodies.

The diversity of the crowd was a testament to New Blue Sun's truly far-out singularity. It is long, mysterious and famously came with a warning on its packaging that it contained "No Bars." And it's true: There isn't a line, lyric or rap on the entire album. It was one of the biggest surprises in 2023, when André 3000, one of the best writers the hip-hop world has ever seen, and now apparently obsessively focused on his flute-work while collaborating with experimental guru/nexus Carlos Niño in L.A., really went and dropped a record with no rapping at all.
So at his Denver show, the room bubbled and buzzed with curiosity and questions: Were we about to have one of the greatest rappers of all-time hit us with ninety minutes of straight flute music? Was the Denver crowd actually going to get down with a night of experimental free-jazz? Would the honey-voiced Dré really refrain from blessing us with that lovely, mellifluous drawl? (The answers eventually turned out to be yes, hell yes and, thankfully, no.)

Suddenly, everything dark. Amid excited screams and cheers, shadows began to move on the crowded stage, which had at least three percussion setups...and then the magic started. First, a brilliant ray of turquoise lanced out, striking a reflective pedestal, which in turn cut across a shadowy figure. Was this the light of the new blue sun? And was that "3 Stacks" himself in the center?

The light held, like a frozen laser beam, and André slowly took shape — big red stocking cap, large black headphones and frames — surrounded by the music as it swelled; deep and ominous synths from Botofasina's throne of keyboards to the left, skittery drumming uncoiling from Parks on the right; and a forest of whispering noise from Niño in the rear, who played maracas, shells and a Whirly Tube in addition to his full drum set.

As their wall of sound was built, element by element, a row of electric blue spheres materialized behind the players. Resembling a diagram of the phases of the moon, they flared, disappeared, reappeared and changed colors hypnotically in cycles and patterns.
Finally, André 3000 took the flute and gave it life. First, low cushions of breath underneath Parks's brushes, teasing, testing — not in a hurry. Occasionally, he gave out a little yelp or a cry, as if coaxing or cautioning the music around him.

Then, just as your eyes were unfocusing a little, brain detaching, the blue lights swimming in your vision and starting to turn your mind inward, he let out a wrenching squall of sound and drew you back instantly. In fits and starts, his flute squealed and protested and insisted, and then abruptly stopped (as if he had suddenly thought of something else to do), and then Dré sat down, his back to the audience, and simply waited.

That set the pattern for the night, as the quartet (serpentwithfeet eventually snuck back out and started dropping breathy vocals, too) built different musical flavors piece by piece, creating magical spaces that surrounded and filled us, whether they were jazzy vibes, ominous swells or yoga-studio jams. Then Dré would jump back in, guiding, provoking, occasionally taking over, and every time, giving new textures, new ideas, new feelings.

At the end of the second movement ("songs" isn't quite right), there was a transcendent moment when the rest of the lighting went dark, the band became subdued, and one by one, every spotlight came to rest on the rapper-turned-flautist as he unleashed a flute solo of such mournful beauty that it was shocking. You could almost feel hundreds of people, previously mesmerized, suddenly wake up and say, "Wow — André 3000 is actually really good at flute!" Often he would turn or look away while playing, and in the few moments where he turned and faced the audience, the effect was startling.

It was, in an engaging way, very weird. No one danced or even moved; it was if the entire room was under a spell — until the music died away, and then the room thundered with cheers and screams of "3 STAAACKS!"
It was difficult to say what exactly they played off the album: the mostly improvisational shows have generally been confounding setlist trackers. The opening half-hour seemed to be riffing on New Blue Sun's opening trio of "I Swear, I Really Wanted to Make a "Rap" Album, But This Is Literally The Way The Wind Blew Me This Time", "The Slang Word P*ssy Rolls Off the Tongue With Far Better Ease Than The Proper Word Vagina. Do You Agree?" and "That Night in Hawaii Where I Turned Into A Panther And Started Making These Low Register Purring Tones That I Couldn't Control...Sh¥t Was Wild".

Other tracks that seemed to swim into focus included "BuyPoloDisorder's Daughter Wears a 3000 Shirt" and "Ghandi, Dalai Lama, Your Lord and Savior J.C./Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer, and John Wayne Gacy". 

After that first half hour, we got to hear from the man himself, who stopped and addressed the crowd for two extended chats. Smiling, joking, introducing his friends and drawling in that wonderful, instantly recognizable voice; the contrast between the warmth of his presence unveiled and the moody, inscrutable tunes was incredible — like the sun came out — but he didn't pull the curtain back.

"We don't know what we're going to play until we come out," he explained. Our energy as a crowd, he said, is what determines the show's direction, the form that the music will take. 

Misdirection? Maybe. But who cares? If nothing else, the Ellie show proved that Dré is still one of the most exciting, unpredictable musicians in the game, and the standing ovation that ended the night was evidence that we'll have him back any time: no bars necessary.

Find more concerts in Denver on our concert calendar.