Ten years ago Erykah Badu ushered in the birth of what we now know as neo-soul music with her trend setter Baduizm. Expect to hear the nu soul conventions broken, twisted, and completely transformed in the 4th World War, part one of an ongoing concept project entitled New Amerykah. Finding inspiration in Funkadelic cosmic grooves, the loving croons of Minnie Ripperton, and the playfulness of De La Soul contrasted by the street smarts of Eric B. and Rakim, Badu takes the listener on a chopped up musical voyage of heartfelt sound and imagery. Leaving behind the simple coherence of Baduism that championed headwraps, ankhs, and astrological lyricism, Badu achieves a more authentic voice with her broader, more complex perspective.
Hiphop’s finest funky soul crate diggers of today (sorry Pete Rock) – Madlib, 9th Wonder, and the Sa-Ra collective – provide Badu with the head nodding smooth production that really allows the power of her voice to ride the sonic waves. On the opening track, the Healer, Badu proclaims an ode to Hiphop culture, “bigger than religion... bigger than the government,” and specifically, praise to the legacy of the late J Dilla. Badu steadies her penetrating voice over a gritty Detroit hand clap boom bap that sounds part like a rebirth of the culture and due to a ghostly background chant, an eerie funeral oration of its demise.
As if the track did not remind one enough of Dilla, Badu slams it into our ears with her flipped up rendition of the seminal Donuts joint, My People, where she puts new soul into the original Eddie Kendricks cut. Badu chants “my people,” elongating the syllables as they fade into the break beat, swaying hypnotically with the thrusting momentum of fast synth clips charged with a resounding bass line.
Adding complexity to the album that warrants its replay value, Badu shifts styles right in the thick of it. The contemplative melodies of the beginning tracks are complemented by the body jerking funk groove of “The Cell” where Badu skillfully crafts together multiple styles of singing from aggressive raps to jazzy skatting. She unifies the uplifting sound into a critique on poverty, drug abuse, and violence that avoids cliché thanks to its potent visual language, “Mama hopped up on cocaine, Daddy on spaceships to no brain.”
The album finishes with the “bonus track,” Honey, the catchy single bumping a heavy wa-wa guitar that reaches towards tying together the P-Funkish introduction but strangely fits the least with the conceptual scheme of the preceding tracks. Honey nonetheless stands on its own as an impressive balance of playfulness, “I’m in love with a bumblebee,” and a serious proclamation of joy.
The varying tracks are drawn together by Badu’s delicate mastery of merging the personal with the political reminiscent of Curtis Mayfield. Knowledge of Erykah the woman in the largest sense sheds light on the overall situation of our people on the planet Earth. The pun of the title, New Amerykah, therefore makes perfect sense even if the subtitle of 4th World War gets lost in the bumbling shifts from one subject to the next that sometimes forgets its central insight.
In flipping the rules of the neo-soul game, Badu is not only reconstructing her own personal mode of expression, but also perhaps more daringly, seeking to achieve the most ambitious objective of music - to move the world in a different direction.
If you haven't peeped the video of Honey then check it. How many classic albums do you recognize?
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