My appreciation for hip-hop is somewhat limited. I have little tolerance for skits and am not a huge fan of words like “goosh” (which I think is a Southern mashup of smoosh and gush?), or stories about how huge your cock is. If I wanted that I’d watch bad porn (wait…). Big Boi, being an Atlanta rapper, can’t quite help himself in this regard, but he is a guy who clearly tries to raise the level of the art. I mean the man quotes my main hip-hop frame of reference, Special Ed (“tainted alligator souffle”), so I’m indebted from early on. But, of course, back in my day R&B stood for rappin’ bullshit (or maybe “rap and bullshit”), so some of these tracks with all the singing and crap make my ears bleed. The non-singing tracks have a lot going on. There are strings and background vocals and all sorts of stuff. This is some seriously busy stuff. And as such, it does wear a bit on the ears. Listening to all 19 tracks in one sitting will leave one breathless and beat up—it’s just so many damn words and so many damn ‘n’ words. Despite my limited appreciation, I can appreciate this one, but it doesn’t necessarily mean I want to listen to it. It just wasn’t made for me.