Falsely accused of being a female R&B singer, Erykah Badu is, in reality, one of the most important Hip-Hop artists in recent history. Her classic 2000 release, Mama's Gun, destroyed the concept known as "neo-soul" while simultaneously returning Hip-Hop to its roots of intense soul and fearless expression. Her inexcusably slept-on EP Worldwide Underground redefined a desperate genre in dire need of a wakeup call.
As soon as we stopped paying attention, Badu comes back with yet another ground breaking project. New Amerykah, Pt. 1; 4th World War is the first installment of a series of musical instructions from the wisdom of Erykah Badu, telling her children where Hip-Hop will go.
The first single with accompanying video, "Honey", is the initial indicator of this mission. Erykah, collaborating with one of the genre's leaders in its future sound, melodically seduces a 9th Wonder break beat creating what should be an appealing springtime barbeque ditty. Keeping with the hip hop theme, New Amerykah boasts a virtual “who's who” of next-level Hip-Hop production. Turns from Sa-Ra, Madlib, ?uestlove, James Poyser, Karriem Riggins, and Georgia Anne Muldrow infuse New Amerykah with the sound and spirit of genre-bending hip hop and black music that began with the Soulquarians and was later informed by the late J Dilla, who passed in early 2006.
The Dilla sensibilities and adulation on this album lie not only in the extended interlude “My People” where Badu vibes and chants over a reprise of Dilla’s “People” (from 2006’s Donuts LP). Nor are they solely present in the angelic and affecting tribute “Telephone” which makes reference to deathbed visions and conversations Dilla would have with Ol’ Dirty Bastard whom he claims gave him instructions and directions on how to get to heaven. Rather, Dilla’s presence lies in the subtleties of Karriem Riggins’ grunts and adlibs on “Soldier”, or Sa-Ra’s ill-timed drums and production on “That Hump”—both Dilla hallmarks. Few musical homages get as detailed or poignant as the stuff found on New Amerykah.
Not to be overlooked, Badu overtly tackles various socio-political issues on this effort. The aforementioned “Soldier” takes a basic hip hop beat with a light melody and speaks on everything from inner-city violence and depression, to the Iraq War and Hurricane Katrina. R&B artists, a box in which many critics choose to pigeon-hole Badu, lack the capability or inclination to be this bold. An activist/revolutionist in her own right, Badu manages to marry art with social responsibility while always maintaining the groove.
Crushing the "mainstream" box, in which record labels continue to confine their artists, “The Cell” with its electric guitar chords, unmistakably hint at early 80s John Scofield; while “Master Teacher” employs a masterfully chopped sample of Curtis Mayfield’s “Freddie’s Dead” and layers it with strings and a hesitant beat that give way to a cream-filled center of a time-change that effortlessly brings in a jazzy, keyboard-laden groove.
For some this project will be refreshing, for others perplexing. Ultimately, New Amerykah serves as relief that artistry is still alive and that Badu is still upholding her relevance in the industry while maintaining her musical integrity—unabashed and unafraid. Put this album on repeat and take it all in. It may alter your perception and possibly change your life. Now that's realmusic.
