Album of The Week, Mama’s Gun

“Out goes the braids, beads, medallions…” – Common

Erykah Badu was too damn earthy. Too spiritual. Too deep. Yeah, yeah, she sold 3 million being deep. But she said it herself, “what good do your words do, if they can’t understand you?” There was an uppity air to the “neo-soul” movement that might’ve seemed elitist for the non-college grad. If you cared to be that deep you might’ve read few more books than Essence or tried understanding Morrison over the easier McMillan. Just for a second. Erykah embodied the movement and personified the “righteous” sista with lyrics like “Most intellects do not believe in God, but they fear us just the same.” Who talks like that as a woman? Not many, but she recruited many a disciple with her Billie-esque voice, hip hop sensibility and seemingly well-read self.

But let’s keep it real, nothing connected in full AfrAm community like “I’m getting tired of your shit, you don’t ever buy me nothing.”

After the chewsticks, ankhs, staffs, rim shots and upright bass looking down on all other music out at the time, some freestyled “ghetto” lyric connected Erykah with EVERYBODY and made her priceless and singular. While Jill & Lauryn had their own corner of the sky, they took nothing and no one from Erykah. While “On & On” and “Next Lifetime” with their cypher and reincarnation talk was cool for their moment in time, “Tyrone’s” unabashed rawness made those who liked Badu love Erica Wright. With 2 full years of Baduizm and Live on shelves and stage, as well as full disclosure of love, new life, and heartbreak with Andre Benjamin, we KNEW this girl, unlike the stranger we spent the first year figuring out.

Mama’s Gun did as much to put neo-soul to rest as D’Angelo had done earlier in the year with Voodoo. It was Erykah’s statement that she wouldn’t be “genrefied” and packaged nice and neat for the mass consumption. She was now a mama and was running her own show. First things first, we starting with a rock song. Just so y’all ain’t up in here looking for “On & On.” She allowed Questlove to hit a snare this go round, rocking out on “Penitentiary Philosophy” and funking out on “Booty,” the latter being the epitome of a sassy southern belle being straight up.

“Your booty might be bigger, but I still can pull yo nigger, but I don’t want him….You got the beans and rice and the hot hocake, but ‘cha nigga still over here in my plate, I don’t want him.”

The irony of the lyric is actually that she’s YOUR sister. She don’t want him ’cause of what he’s done to you and hopes you woulda done the same for her too? Whoa, now see? That’s what black women wanted to hear. That even if their dude fell for the hussie, she’d throw him back. Even here, Erykah’s the sole soul sister able to galvanize uppity and underprivileged into one room and make ‘em all dance to the same tune.

“This is how I look without makeup, and with no bra, my ninnies sag down low. My hair ain’t ever hung down to my shoulders and it might now grow. Shit, you never know.”

She was so open, it was impossible not to come in and have a sit down. The music itself was welcoming, but in performance she actually removed her famous headwrap to reveal a bald-head. It gets no more naked.

It was was angrier (“since you ain’t playing by the rules, I’m bout to kick you off your stool.”), more introspective (“been such a long time, I forgot that I was fine, just kiss me on my neck.”), and even sexier (“how good it is”). It was thingsBaduizm wasn’t. It was the best therapy the heartbroken could ask for. Perhaps heartbreak opened up Badu to just being Wright. As brilliantly broken down in three stages on “Green Eyes,” she exorcises her woes theatrically. A magnificient close to an album we never saw coming.