The Funky Snob’s initial WTF?!? feeling on listening to New Amerykah was perhaps too hasty. The initial folly was in greedily gulping Badu’s latest straight out the box, instead of letting it marinade in my mental.
Having now given this a few listens and fully digested the goods, I’m still not sure whether I enjoyed it or if I’m willing to send my regards to the chef simply on account of not tasting fresh new “neo-soul” for a while.
(Okay, I think we’ve tapped this particular metaphor enough.)
New Amerykah, Pt. 1: 4th World War is….it just is. The album is proof that the industry needs Badu more than she needs it. Her first new project in years, Badu is content to let her hair down (is it really her hair this time?) and succumb to the militant-P-Funk-neo-soul-incense-burning-esoteric esthetic that she has cultivated since she summoned the spirit of Billie Holiday with 1997’s “On and On.”
So we get a 11-track project that nonchalantly non-commercial, heavily hip-hop influenced and markedly militant.
"I just laid down my vocals and let the music breathe while the melodies tell the stories," says Badu.
Indeed. Those expecting an album full of mainstream sounding joints like “Honey” will be sorely disappointed.
As a tribute to J Dilla, "Telephone" is perhaps one of the more commercial sounding songs, even at eight minutes long. “The Hump” bumps with a creeping bassline but loses points for the pointless and indulgent bridge in the middle. Indulgent is the operative word with the album as many songs are heavily experimental (see” Master Teacher, My people).
Not that there’s anything wrong with that but Badu has always been guilty of creating songs that would have so much more reasonance if she delivered them with just a bit more focus.
Sonic mediation is all good but off kilter for off kilter’s sake leaves me with vertigo. New Amerykah is destined to be one of those albums that everyone has and claim to love…but one that they don’t actually listen to much.
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