With "New Amerykah Part One: 4th World War," Erykah Badu sent
imagined political futures raging through our collective conscious.
Released in 2008, when Bush was still in the White House, Badu funneled
her fears into an exotic underworld.
Now with Obama in the White
House and a new healthcare bill passed, perhaps Badu feels that her
worries have been temporarily assuaged, allowing her to focus again on
the timeless subject of love and self-evolution. Whether the specifics
involve being needed or wanting to fly away, lusting for someone or
letting go, "New Amerykah Part Two: Return of the Ankh" is a velvety,
but still appealingly odd, exploration that feels more like a casual
counterweight than a heady sequel.
Buzzing and fluttering with
synths, harp, piano and almost-subliminal samples that pump in fuzzy,
nostalgic soul, "Return of the Ankh" roams far and wide. The music
beneath her benefits from detail-oriented producers, including MadLib,
the late J Dilla and James Poyser, the last of whom elevates "Window Seat," with
Badu co-producing, into a juicy slice of escapism but with the security
of someone missing you back home.
The middle of the album is cut
with a computerized vocal declaring that humankind only experiences two
emotions, fear and love, kicking off a three-song suite. "Love" is the
most simple, with Badu multiplying her voice into a cooing chorus over
chilled-out funk.
In "You Loving Me," the singer enjoys the spoils
of the good life while sleeping with a lover's friends. "That's
terrible, isn't it," she chuckles at the end, wise to the fact that it's
just one iteration of a long story. The next song, "Fall in Love
(your funeral)" warns a man not to pursue her lest he wants his life
rearranged. Over a come-hither groove with nervous, twittering synths
and the occasional whoop of an alarm, she purrs, "You gotta change jobs,
change gods or you better get on away from here."
By the end,
Badu is ready for a confession over lounge piano: "I'm a recovering
undercover over-lover." If only all of our addictions could sound as
gorgeous as hers. Let the relapse begin.