Review: Erykah Badu's New Amerykah Part One (4th World War)

Each song annihilates with heart pounding bass lines, unpredictable melodies and confrontational lyrics.  Badu takes on the state of hip-hop, revolution and Shakespeare-like symbolism.  She is at her best when she gets political, which is something we rarely hear even in the most progressive of R&B and hip-hop.

Clay Cane is a New York-based journalist, AOL Black Voices contributor and creator of http://www.claycane.net.

Neo-soul was birthed, lived and someone, maybe it was Beyoncé, committed homicide on the retro soul music that thrived in R&B during the late nineties.  Ten years later, those lyrical and musical artists of "neo-soul" have vanished.  However, only a few soul chicks are left standing and that is Erykah Badu.  Critics said she was a gimmick, her fans said she was a fraud when it was discovered her locs were synthetic and she was predicted the first one to vanish from the scene--well, you must know 'bout Badu. 

The four-time Grammy Award winner returns with her fourth studio album, New Amerykah Part One (4th World War), which is one of three installments under the title New Amerykah.  Badu delivers a funkdafied eleven-track album with provocative and social jams.  The album includes collaboration and production with Talib Kweli, Ghostface Killah and legendary jazz vibraphonist Roy Ayers.

Each song annihilates with heart pounding bass lines, unpredictable melodies and confrontational lyrics.  Badu takes on the state of hip-hop, revolution and Shakespeare-like symbolism.  She is at her best when she gets political, which is something we rarely hear even in the most progressive of R&B and hip-hop.  For example, in the song "My People" Badu sings of Iraqi fields, dirty cops and adds, "We gonna keep marching on/Until you hear that freedom song/ If you think about turning back /I got my shot gun on your back." 

The thirty-six year-old hot mama definitely stampedes to the beat of her own conga.  In the quirky "Telephone," Badu emotes: "Telephone... it's so dirty, he wants to give you directions home."  A look into Badu's emotional world is all interpretational for the listener, you never know if she is angry, sad, depressed, or maybe putting a spell on us via CD. 

She is deeply eclectic, but sometimes unattainable.  In some of the music and themes for 4th World War I said to myself, "I guess I'm just not smart enough for this!"  In "Master Teacher" Badu repeatedly questions, "What if there was no niggas, only master teachers?"  After a few listens I wasn't exactly sure of her message, except for an exercise in prophetic complexity. 

Badu's lofty themes are not necessarily flaws.   The organic songstress is the Bjork of R&B.  At times you may have no idea what she is singing about, but you assume she is saying something deep because you respect the genius.  Moreover, a Badu album is not as digestible when the listener shuffles the tracks.  4th World War is a complete experience that you must listen to from beginning in to end--and may need to take notes along the way.   

Whatever the case, New Amerykah Part One (4th World War) is an incredible R&B, funk, rock record.  On the other hand, I would've liked to hear more of Badu's flawless vocals, which always shines in her unforgettable live performances.  Badu has yet to deliver a studio album that showcases her dynamic voice, which, believe it or not, is less Billie Holiday and more Chaka Khan. 

Overall, New Amerykah Part One (4th World War) is another excellent record from a R&B diva who I believe when she says she could care less about sales--she is an artist who is still sensitive about her sh*t.  Still, she is not about to sell her soul for mainstream acceptance.  B+