Erykah Badu - New Amerykah Part One
Its been over quaternion years since Erykah Badu's last release, and it looks like she had a tidy sum on her mind. New Amerykah'' is the first of a two-part serial publication, the irregular to be released later this year, and it is brimming with the thoughts and emotions of the soul singer.
Multiple listens ar essential to amply come to grips with Badu's diverse messages, with lyrics that cooking stove from obscure and poetic, to confrontational state-of the-nation attacks.
She is the counterpoison to mainstream R&B and apiece song on the album packs a heavy punch, with topics as diverse as the warfare in Republic of Iraq, America's dose job and aging.
One time you've had time to unravel the complexities and idiosyncrasies of this album, it becomes a much more enjoyable listen.
Opener 'Amerykahn Promise' has Mid-seventies nostalgia written completely over it, with a funk beat, groovy guitars and a retro horn arrangement. In fact, the whole album is steeped in this sensory faculty of nostalgia.
Dense, eerie 'My People' (produced by Madlib) is one of the album highlights. Featuring the chant 'Hold on my people' with marvelously layered vocals, it is understated simply effective.
Even starker is 'The Healer', an ode to rap, with a abuse to the of late manufacturer J Dilla, whom she collaborated with. Anti-drugs 'The Cell' quickens the rate, with menacing lyrics o'er a boppy, catchy data track.
Lead single 'Honey' is a bonus track on the album, and for good reason. It doesn't quite go in with the rest of the tracks with its breezy, accessible, and comparatively unexciting beat.
The record album backside become overbearing at multiplication, such as the outro to 'Twinkle', where an angry, fairly distorted, voice rages against the state of modern society.
But apart from the to a fault preachy moments, the album still stands up for its ambition, soul and field bizarreness. It is a schizophrenic, bewildering all the same ultimately rewarding experience.
Sarah
