What André 3000 taught me about creative integrity
Poking fun at LinkedIn bros while celebrating liberated art.
We have to be honest for a second here: LinkedIn is really turning into Facebook before our eyes. Most days, it’s giving Tumblr for Capitalists.
I get it. All social media is performative in some way. I mean, I perform as a creative wordsmith when I open up this platform. And I like that. I enjoy the energy of this space that provokes me to show up in an amplified way.
Now on LinkedIn, I’ve slowly seen it turn into a school play on proverbs, corporate credos, and internalized capitalism1. Of course, this isn’t how everyone interacts with the platform, but more and more people seem to forget they are free to post life updates if they’d like. It’s okay to share a personal story on the platform and talk about how it has allowed you as a person to grow. I’ve done it myself.
But what really glitches my matrix is the need for people to link everything back to business. Like you ran a marathon. Amazing. I love that for you. Truly. Now, why must we connect that to increasing stakeholder value for your start-up?
When you spend months planning the perfect proposal to the love of your life, symbolically beginning the union of two souls as one, why must this be used as a provoking post headline to talk about effective B2B sales?
What happened to us? Can we not just live a life outside of the work that already takes so much of our waking hours?
Before I get lost in a much more intricate conversation on how we have accidentally become the heralds of capitalism within our own lives, let me offer an olive branch to the LinkedIn bros.
I love a connection. I thrive on finding links between two or more seemingly unrelated things. I regularly force friends to play 6 Degrees with me and see how I can seamlessly get from one movie star to Kevin Bacon within 6 films.
I mean, shit, making connections is what this whole newsletter is about. Taking time to muse on the bits of life that make up the whole of our experience, seeing the natural and novel relationships that appear. I love it.
So as much as I might cringe at these stale LinkedIn posts, they did inspire me to create this new series called…
Teach me, daddy.
KIDDING. Hah, could you imagine? I mean, not the worst title, but not really what I’m going for here. Sorry, I just needed that chuckle.
Welcome to the new actual series called…
In my “What this taught me about that” series, I’ll make seemingly unrelated connections between two things, culling some lessons from their link. And I will try my best to make the musings more wise than wince-worthy. Wish me luck.
First up…
What André 3000 taught me about creative integrity
I’ve been going through my own personal rest journey. Much more on this later. And thanks to utter Goddesses like Tricia Hersey and Celeste Headlee who have written so bluntly and beautifully about how important it is to find ease in our lives, I’ve been taking more intentional moments just to vibe. To be.
But it’s funny, I think all the authors and philosophers are onto something about the magic of rest. Because I swear, every time I put myself in spaces and energies of rest, some unexpected revelation, beauty, or connection comes to me.
On one particular morning, I was taking a mindful few minutes out on my balcony, scrolling through a solid lofi/affirmation playlist to help me get grounded. And then this thumbnail came across the screen that just shocked me into focus.
A strikingly blue background (a shade brighter than one of my favs, cobalt) glowed from the screen, and a face that I quickly recognized was among the gorgeous blue light. My finger clicked on the video before my mind could really comprehend it. And I was in.
Millennials: Polaroid pictures on the ready
For anyone who didn’t suffer from a sprained wrist post “Hey Ya” dance floor session, you might not know much about the artist we call, André 3000. Famously known as one-half of the hip-hop duo, Outkast—who shaped the lives of my entire middle and high school—André 3000 is known as one of the best rappers in the game.
And some people might say he hasn’t really been in the rap game lately, especially after Outkast split in 2007. But when you give us “Roses”, “Ms. Jackson”, and “So Fresh, So Clean”, I think you deserve a life of rest and nothing but blessings.
But still, people have always appreciated Mr. 3000’s art, viewpoints, and willingness to weave really dense topics into absolute bangers. Case in point, “Hey Ya”:
If what they say is
"Nothing is forever"
Then what makes, then what makes
Then what makes, then what makes (what makes, what makes)
Love the exception?
So why, oh, why, oh
Why, oh, why, oh, why, oh
Are we so in denial when we know we're not happy here?
And the next line is so iconically represented in this TikTok that makes me Goofy “Ahh-guuhh” chuckle from the accuracy.
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Okay, but let’s get into André’s new album that got all the “hardcore fans” in a tussle.
“There’s no verses on it, no rapping…”
Released in November of 2023, “New Blue Sun” was Sir 3000’s debut solo album, and to many people’s dismay, it wasn’t a rap album!
Obvi, some were shook by this. The fact that André chose to come out of his 17-year hiatus from music to release a flute-forward ambient album with no lyrics and not an 808 in site, was too much for some to handle.
Of course, they expected something else from him. They wanted the “old André” back! They wanted to relieve their high school memories of blasting “Church” in the school parking lot. They wanted something from him. And he didn’t give them that. He gave us what he needed.
My “New Blue Sun” listening experience
Without going too deep into music theory or detailed analysis, this album, no…this experience, was utterly beautiful to me.
The video I stumbled upon on that crisp morning on my balcony was a listening party/album film for “New Blue Sun.” I highly encourage you to take some time to really sit with Duke 3000 and his art. It really moved me.
The set was so bare bones, yet captivating. André moves from being shockingly still to vibrantly in flow throughout the full album. If I dared to close my eyes and miss his expression, I felt the freedom and fluidity between every note, every percussion, every flute swell. It all just flowed.
When I would connect back to the video, I would watch André as he seemed so in tune with the music, with his body. He let the music truly move through him. This was his creation, no doubt. It felt easy and pure.
He felt free. Like he broke himself free with this album. The key that unlocked it was one of his own. He permitted himself to be great, now. To honor his growth and maturity. To be honest and true. To be the vessel of creativity, not the dictator. To allow, not enforce.
“The thing is, I can only give what I’m feeling. I’m interested in discovery. If there’s not any discovery, it doesn’t feel real to me. I’ve never considered myself the best producer or the best singer or the best rapper or any of those separate categories. But one thing I do have confidence in is my feeling.”
What is creative integrity really?
Yep, opening up my virtual dictionary (i.e. Google) again to bring you another definition. I scoured the inter-webs and took many divergent paths, but I personally love this user’s explanation of “creative/artistic integrity”:
Prioritizing one's art itself and the realization of one's artistic vision over other aspects of working as an artist.
In other words, an artist with artistic integrity cares less about fame, money, having an easy career, and other things that people might try and acquire […] and truly using their individual artistic voice.
With any word or phrase, I find it super important and empowering to find your own, personal definition. That’s where I have the most fun with language, allowing my own feelings and reflections to shape how I see, feel, or use a certain word. After sitting with Monsieur 3000’s art, and resting with my own creative energies for some time, I’ve come to my own definition of creative integrity: Protecting the organic, easeful, and playful expression of your art.
Art needs to be protected. Creation deserves to be fought for and allowed to be free. And dang it, when did we lose touch with play? Play is so important. Our daughter’s daycare teachers say all the time how important play is to the growing brain, and I don’t think that stops after toddlerdom.
Play and creation are some of the most natural states for the human to be in. Science has literally found that playing and being in a play state is a human instinct. We’ve forgotten that. Play becomes “unprofessional”, “a waste”, “lazy”, and “irresponsible” in the face of hustle culture and big business. And I struggle with this daily.
Being a content writer often poses a challenge when I’m looking to be completely honest and allow my creative inclinations. Of course, my raw art can be successfully funneled through the copy brief or content outline, but it’s never fully my own expression. There are SEO keywords involved. Key audience data. Conversion metrics. So many filters so ensure that what comes out on the other side is effective, yes. But true to me, no.
So experiencing Professor 3000’s raw, yet curated art was the kick start to the heart I needed. It showed me how courageous and important it is to stick by your intuition, to fight for your freedom of expression, and to prioritize the voice within over the critics on the outs. And most importantly, it taught me that it’s safe to do so.
It’s safe to be free, in thought, in art, in expression. And in a world where so many basic emotions are persecuted, this creative reminder was long overdue.
New LinkedIn post: What André 3000 taught me about creative integrity
Creating and connecting
I had faaar too much fun with that post. It was nice to play around a bit; put on my corporate cap to craft a satire-filled LinkedIn-style post to share my final findings and take the piss out of ourselves and this silly, enterprise-obsessed world we live in. Play can truly come in many forms.
But in all seriousness, I wanted to start this little side series because as much as I want to dunk on these business bros connecting their puppy’s dookie to ROI, I too love to make wild connections. That’s the beauty of musing. Allowing my brain to make seemingly unrelated, random ideas connect like adjacent puzzle pieces in my mind.
I love finding connections between my experiences, expressions, and learnings. It’s what makes this life so worth living. For me, at least.
So yes, I will poke a bit of fun at the weird, wacky performative space of LinkedIn, while having a laugh at myself, as someone who did and (still does in some regards) participate in this type of communication.
But it’s fun to blur the lines a bit. Be referential. But also be honest, through and through. That is what creative integrity really means to me. But let me ask:
What does creative integrity mean to you?
When is it easiest for you to tap into your creativity?
In what ways can you make more space for freedom of expression?
Where are you performing in ways that limit your creativity?
How can you incorporate play into your day, today?
Looking for more musings?
If you’ve made it this far on your muse it or lose it journey and would like the yapping and connection to continue, I gotchu boo.
As the professional chatterbox that I am, I find speaking out my thoughts feels just as good, if not better, than tip-typing them out. So, I’m bringing an auditory element to the musing experience.
Listen to my “oh, AND…” extra thoughts on this piece in the voice note below, as I dive deeper into my personal challenges with finding safety in my expression. Consider it your standing invitation into the girls, gays, and theys group chat, and a chance to connect even further.
But if you have to jet for today, just take this with you: You are meant to play. To create. To explore. Be honest and be uncompromising with what lights you up. We want to see you. For all that you are.
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