Erykah Badu’s New AmErykah Part One (4th World War): The Revolution Will Not Be Categorized

"this year I turn 36/damn it seems it came so quick/my ass and legs have gotten thick, it's all me..."
(ME, New AmErykah Part One)

If you pick through Erykah Badu’s afro, you’ll find handcuffs, dice, turntables, a tree among smoke stacks, a syringe, and a baby with a barcode on his bald head, a computer with a brain on the screen, the all-seeing eye, a big truck on big rims, dollar signs, peace signs, a DNA double helix, guns, the medical symbol in a toilet and a tank. And much more.

These images form a collage on the incredible cover of her latest album, New AmErykah Part One (4th World War). So from the look of things, Ms. Badu has a lot on her mind. And it sounds that way too, which stands to reason since she has been away for five years.

On this 11-track album (which includes the 9th Wonder-produced bonus cut “Honey”), Badu talks about everything from politics to drug addiction, from the system to the everyday struggles of just living. She urges folks to hold on and not give up in the tribal, Madlib-produced “My People” and spits a message of empowerment over a soaring melody on “Soldier”: to my girls on prescription pills/I know how you feel/to my folks in Iraqi fields/this ain’t no time to kill. On “The Cell” and “Twinkle,” Badu delves deeper into the grim realities of society, painting a picture that seems even bleaker against its lush musical backdrop.

Whether she is showing vocal range or melodiously speaking, the album is an earnest opus of expression yet sonically nondescript. As a whole, it cannot be categorized. It opens with a 70s-funk inspired introduction called Amerykahn Promise, dabbles in Asian funk (The Healer, a J Dilla dedication with chimes and chants produced by Madlib) and the instrumentation switches up from one track to the next. It is a whirlwind otherworldly tour through Erykah Badu’s afro, a cosmic concoction of hip hop, jazz and ethereal funk that somehow fits together to form one undeniable declaration: She’s back.

And that’s a big statement. It has been more than 10 years since the release of her classic debut, Baduizm, which went triple platinum, earned her some Grammy Awards and became a pivotal touchstone of the so-called Neo-soul movement. Now for any “conscious” artist, it is at that point where the road gets rocky and a choice must be made. Commercial success can turn true artists into corporate pawns, who try to replicate, reformat and reproduce what they’ve already done for dollars. The pressure of living up to your own public persona causes many to crack. Just look at Lauryn, ahem, Ms. Hill. She would be on the other end of this spectrum, representing what happens when that pressure proves to be too powerful.

But remember, Badu and Ms. Hill helped usher in the Afrocentric fashion phase, the time at the turn-of-the-century when it became cool again to where ankhs and head wraps and anything of African origin. And, of course, when something becomes trendy, it typically loses value and meaning so it would have been no surprise if Badu switched up her style to please the masses out of fear of getting played out.

She did not. She stayed true to herself and contrarily moved farther away from the mainstream, sounding more organic with each subsequent album. And still, she is trying to prove nothing. And she offers no apologies about it. Through all the media speculation, through her public relationships with rappers Andre 3000 of Outkast and Common, through giving birth to two kids, Badu has emerged more aware, it seems, than ever. That is why the standout track of the album is "Me," a breezy jazz record produced by Shafiq Husayn (Sa-Ra) that sounds like it could have been an entry from her diary:

Everything around you see/the Ankhs the wraps the plus degrees/and yes even the mystery…it’s all me…

Sometimes it’s hard to move you see/when you’re growing publicly/but if I have to chose between, I choose me…

It is this type of sincerity, which resonates in the souls of listeners, that has kept Badu around all this time and will continue to make her relevant regardless of the decade. Like each of her prior albums, this one ain’t for everybody. Badu takes you places unexpected to see sights in a new light. But it’s her defiance of clichés and diverse mixtures that make the whole trip worth it and an album that has been worth the wait.

[This album is actually one of two installments and the second part, New AmErykah Part Two (Return of the Ankh), is expected this July.]