Engaging music transports listeners from their bedrooms or cars to a new atmosphere – a setting created by the beats and lyrics banging from the speakers. It is fitting, then, that Grammy award-winning neo-soul singer Erykah Badu titled her fourth album New Amerykah, as the songs take listeners to the eccentric artist’s juxtaposed worlds of block parties and protest rallies.
Abandoning reality is the only way to experience Badu’s complex music. Her jazzy, Southern drawl echoes the raspy blues of Billie Holiday, yet her lyrics evoke a hip-hop sensibility. Her beats are always funky, but her song structures can be unorthodox. Hooks may be non-existent, but instrumentals often change midway through the song and give her words new meaning.
Badu is very different from when she debuted on the scene 11 years ago with Baduizm. Aesthetically, she no longer wraps her hair in a cloth crown or embodies the persona of the self-righteous Earth Mama, but her music still oozes with spirituality.
On New Amerykah, Badu maintains her air of mystery while still being accessible and relatable to fans. Hip-hop producers Madlib and 9th Wonder, known for their laid-back beats, help keep Badu grounded.
On “Me,” the album’s most personal track, Badu reflects on growing older over mellow horns and bluesy guitar riffs. Her self-acceptance is humorous with lines such as “My ass and legs have gotten thick.” Badu continues to charm with honesty on “That Hump,” a song about struggle and perseverance that is reminiscent of “Liberation,” Badu’s 1998 collaboration with Outkast and Cee-Lo.
Badu seamlessly transitions from whispers to a moaning falsetto while singing about “living check to check” and “wanting to fly away.” You can definitely hear and feel her pain.
But New Amerykah isn’t all about lamenting. Badu can get down nearly as well as Parliament-Funkadelic, especially on the album’s opening track, “Amerykahn Promise.” The song talks about love and positivism, featuring 67-year-old jazz vibraphonist Roy Ayers. The bizarre track with dialogue reminiscent of ’70s blaxploitation flicks will make listeners get down.
Badu revisits love on “Honey,” the album’s first single. On this song, Badu has the classic soul style down pat; she even sings cute lines such as “Can you tell me, please/ I wanna know if you’re feeling me/ You’re so sweet to me.”
Yet Badu may also be music’s Angela Davis: She is a woman for the people and shouts out to everyone from the hustlers to the kids in the ghetto to the soldiers in Iraq on “Soldier.” She even goes militant with lyrics such as “If you think about turning back/ I got a shotgun on your back.” Badu deals with similarly weighty issues on “The Cell,” in which she sings of a materialistic urban woman who is on the path to self-destruction. The beat is Prince-esque, evoking ’80s rock and funk, while the descriptive lyrics place you in a dark alley infested with dope pushers, pimps and corrupt cops.
New Amerykah also includes eerie and mystical songs that highlight Badu’s quirky personality. Badu’s gentle whispers are seductive and soothing on “The Healer,” a track that pays tribute to hip-hop music and culture. The song sounds like it could be from André 3000’s The Love Below and proves how much the former lovers influenced each other.
Badu even dabbles in electronica on “Twinkle.” Over the sounds of creaking machinery, Badu moans in anguish about society’s matrix of domination. And the song, which could have been too artsy, is saved by a round of tribal chanting.
Despite some heavy experimentalism, New Amerykah is an undeniably funky release from Badu, a seasoned R&B veteran. The songs’ eccentric qualities allow listeners to trip without drugs, and the album’s versatility makes Badu just right for parties, protests or even meditation sessions. Chances are, she would fit in at any of the above.
arush@umd.edu
RATING: 4 STARS OUT OF 5
