Rediscovered: Goodie Mob's ‘Soul Food’ 

The quartet out of Atlanta followed OutKast onto the national stage, but on their classic debut, delivered an even more unfiltered look at a pre-Olympics Atlanta.

In 1995, Atlanta was in the midst of a musical groundswell. It started a few years earlier. By 1992, acts like TLC, Arrested Development and Kris Kross had risen out of Georgia’s capital city to take the pop charts by storm. Labels like LaFace Records and Jermaine Dupri’s So So Def were scoring major hits and establishing the city as the breeding ground for platinum plaques. And a duo named OutKast had suddenly given “The A” serious hip-hop credibility—which coincided with the rise of the fabled Dungeon Family and set the stage for another group out of that legendary collective to make its mark. That collective is Goodie Mob, and they made that mark with Soul Food, a debut that established the crew as the powerful link in a rich legacy of Atlanta genius. 

The foursome that would become known as Goodie Mob had been born out of separate acts who came together at “The Dungeon,” the late Rico Wade’s basement studio that served as homebase for the then-nascent Dungeon Family. T-Mo and Khujo Goodie had been high school friends who’d formed a duo known as The Lumberjacks; while erstwhile “mutant” Big Gipp had known the production trio Organized Noize for years; Cee-Lo was a former schoolmate of Big Boi and Andre of OutKast. All four emcees made appearances on ‘Kast’s landmark1994 debut southernplayalisticadillakmuzik, but it was the suggestion of music guru Ian Burke that they join form a group. 

Goodie MOB came together and the chemistry was immediate and undeniable. As they set to work on what would become their debut album, the group and Organized Noize found themselves recording in Curtis Mayfield’s Atlanta studio, a decision that would inform the soulful music crafted there. 

The album famously opens with “Free,” what can best be described as an urban hymn: drawn from the ancestors as they toiled in the fields and transplanted squarely in the trap. And on “Thought Process,”—in addition to one of Andre 3000’s first truly kinetic guest appearances— Khujo gives us the earliest reference to the trap, as he ponders anxiety, loneliness and paranoia. But the then- reality of Atlanta’s “Red Dog” police squads segues into the pulsing groove of the Cool Breeze-assisted anthem “Dirty South” that gave the region its most famous contemporary nickname. 

That famous piano line that sounds like something Screamin’ Jay Hawkins heard in his nightmares repeats throughout the classic “Cell Therapy,” as Khujo, Cee-Lo, Gipp and T-Mo each get to showcase their unique styles on what would become the group’s signature song. The 1970s guitar lines and smooth bass line that open the tragic “Sesame Street” belie Mayfield’s influence; as Goodie gets real about the streets and why so many feel trapped by them. 

“Guess Who” is one of the rap game’s most honest and sincere dedications to mother—as Goodie MOB avoids empty sentimentality for genuine affection and respect. “She was barely even grown and became my Momma,” Cee-Lo raps. The heartfelt ode is followed by the chest-thumping battle cry of “Fighting,” a song that ends with what could still be Cee-Lo’s most potent moment on record, as he delivers a closing acapella verse about Black strength and perseverance. 

Organized Noize’s production throughout the album is rooted in soul and gospel, filtered through hip-hop drum patterns and a uniquely southern sensibility. No track embodies the spirit of Atlanta before the Olympics like “Live From the OMNI”; the congas and wah-wah guitar serve as a fitting backdrop as the crew laments white supremacy and the struggles of a community. “Goodie Bag” channels a similar sinister vibe heard on “Cell Therapy,” and one of Gipp’s standout verses—complete with a middle finger to Newt Gingrich and a shoutout to the need for streetlights on Highway 166. 

The album’s title track could be hip-hop’s only unofficial Thanksgiving anthem—as the group offers rumination on grandma’s cooking while also criticizing the rise of fast food joints. It’s a warm song that seems to embody a sense of family over its infectious groove. 

The album’s closing trifecta of “Didn’t Ask To Come,” “The Coming” and, in particular, “The Day After,” close the album on a dead serious note. The group never sounds like they’re judging the street hustlers they spend much of the album trying to enlighten—and that’s Soul Food’s greatest strength. This is the sound of East Point, College Park and SWATS before the 1996 Summer Games shined a commercial light on the city; before leaders decided to sell Atlanta’s identity off to the highest bidder. Everything would change in a year.

But in 1995, these four horsemen told us “The Good Die Mostly Over Bullsh*t” as they crafted a debut album that spoke for the neighborhoods most rap fans in 1995 had never heard of. With Soul Food, Goodie MOB proved that OutKast was the beginning of a wave, and Organized Noize further established their unique sound. It’s the soundtrack to a pivotal moment in southern hip-hop’s history—and the sound of a city’s original soul.