Monday, November 14, 2011

Erykah Badu interview on GQ



In the mid-'90s, a record executive named Kedar Massenburg coined the term "neo-soul" to describe a new breed of R&B artists—particularly D'Angelo, Maxwell, Lauryn Hill, and a certain head-wrapped chanteuse from Dallas—who defined the incense-fogged utopianism of the period. The name stuck, but Erykah Badu, now 40, never loved the label—fortunately she outlasted that moment in music. Or rather, she transcended it. First with the sultry, ballsy "Tyrone," letting her freak flag fly both sonically and follicly, through more than a decade of jams, and into the future with her recent New AmErykah diptych. Badu talks here about growing up in Dallas, getting inspired by Steve Harvey, and learning to keep it real from Mahalia Jackson and her grandmother.
GQ: What inspires you?
Erykah Badu: 
Artists need some kind of stimulating experience a lot of times, which crystallizes when you sing about it or paint it or sculpt it. You literally mold the experience the way you want. It's therapy.
GQ: What was the experience that spawned your last two albums, New AmErykah Part One and Part Two?
Erykah Badu: 
I didn't have a vision for it. I don't think about that before I start writing. Not until a body of work starts to appear do I think about a concept for it. It's usually not because of what I'm saying, it's because of the frequency of the music—it all sounds right together, you know? Certain kinds of music make me write about a certain kind of thing.
GQ: What about when you're putting a tour together?
Erykah Badu: 
That's different. When you're doing an album, you're perfecting a moment in time that will be like that forever. When you're performing, you're creating a moment. It's a different mindset, you know? You need that immediate feedback from the audience, who have come for the same reason you came. It's more fun, with less deadlines and pressure, and a lot more freedom.
GQ: How often do you change your set list?
Erykah Badu: 
We have a certain set we rehearse, and then, depending on how the audience is feeling, I change it up. Like for [the festival] Rock the Bells, I was supposed to be doing [her 1997 debut album] Baduizm in its entirety and that's kind of wild. That was not written to be done as a live album.
GQ: What's it like going back to that record now?
Erykah Badu: 
I do a lot of it in my shows. The whole thing, from beginning to end. It matters to me, where I was at that time, the things I remember going through.
GQ: How are you different now?
Erykah Badu: 
I'm more experienced in certain areas but I have the same me to evolve as I did then.
GQ: Back in 1997, there was a lot of attention being paid to neo-soul. Did you feel a part of that moment?
Erykah Badu: 
It was constructed outside of us. I think titles in music are mainly constructed to categorize things to sell units. If I can speak for a lot of artists who feel the same way I do, it doesn't really matter. I don't have one song that sounds like another one in my entire catalog. It only sounds alike because I'm present in all of it.
GQ: Would you change anything about the way you handled the start of your career?
Erykah Badu: 
Nope.
GQ: You're happy with how everything played out?
Erykah Badu: 
Absolutely. I don't have a horror story at all.
GQ: How did you get started as a singer?
Erykah Badu: 
I had been a theater major and a dancer for most of my life, from the time I was 4 years old. I liked singing and any kind of art and I knew this love for art and this practicing would be my career at some point. I just didn't know if it'd be theater or film. I wrote my first song when I was in a group with my cousin, called "Apple Tree." My cousin liked the song; he played it for people and they liked it, and I said, "Alright, another one!"—and on and on, until we had put together a 14-song demo in Dallas in his room. We took a couple of pictures and we were called Erykah Free—his name was Free. But in my heart, I didn't want to be in a group. I wanted to be a solo artist. I'm a warrior, a lone kind of chick. We separated and I moved to New York and auditioned for many labels and they didn't really get it. A couple put me into artist development—a Special Ed kind of thing [laughs]. Then I met this guy, Kedar Massenburg, who was managing D'Angelo at the time, and he understood what I was doing. He also understood that what me and D'Angelo had in common was not that we sounded alike, but that we didn't sound like what was happening [in music at the time]. That's how Kedar put it. He asked me to open for D'Angelo when he went to Dallas and Kedar really liked what he heard and both of us got a deal at Universal and I've been there ever since. I've been moved to Motown 'cause they divide you up like cattle in different sections of the system—the machine[laughs]. Anyway, Baduizm came out the way it was as a demo. I added a few songs from The Roots whom I did not know until I moved to New York. "The Other Side of the Game" turned out to be my favorite song to perform live. Period.
GQ: You were a rapper at one point, too. Was there a time when being an MC seemed more likely for you than being a singer?
Erykah Badu: 
That was back when I was in college. I went to [Grambling State] university from 1989 to '93 to study theater, so I was an actor at that point. It wasn't my aspiration to be a singer, it was to be an artist. When I was 23 or 24, I was rapping and emceeing a lot with Free, but I was also working at Steve Harvey's comedy house. He was my boss—the best boss ever. Funny, generous, considerate, and he knew I was an artist. When I started working there I was a waitress, and somehow I became a hostess. When he knew he could trust me, he moved me to the ticket booth. I handled money and helped organize transportation and hotel reservations for the comedians that came in. I noticed Steve didn't have a stage manager, so I got that job, making sure everybody was taken care of. I love being of service to people—the whole act of it is really great to me. One day Steve was late going onstage, so I went out to the mic and threw out some jokes and stuff. People were laughing and heckling and having fun and Steve came onstage and scolded me in front of everybody. It was so funny. We started doing it every night. [Laughs] It felt like, This is where I want to be. Steve was really inspirational in that.
GQ: Do you remember when you first sang in public?
Erykah Badu: 
I was five or something. At school. I was in a Christmas play in kindergarten. There was a part of a little boy who sings "Somebody Snitched on Me," and all the boys in my class were in line auditioning. So I got in line, too. It was acting, and I figured I could act like a boy. The music teacher, Ms. Goodman, who had a big influence on me, encouraged me to do it. The other kids were laughing, but I was like, I'm serious, I can pull this off if you give me the opportunity. That was the first time. I was petrified and at first my voice and hands were shaking, but when I saw people having that look—the look I always look for, the I'm happy for you look—I knew I was doing a good job. I got unscared and, you know, pulled some antics, and that was my first time.


GQ: When you were making that demo with Free, did you ever imagine you'd end up where you are now?
Erykah Badu: 
I just knew it felt good and I had a real competitive spirit, just wanting to be accepted among my peers. I didn't know. I still don't know. I try to be honest and I keep moving.
GQ: What was Texas like when you were growing up?
Erykah Badu: 
Texas, to me, was my school, home, my Church sometimes, the movies sometimes. My world was in my head—it still is. I didn't know who was poor or rich. My mom and grandma and everybody just made it a good time all the time. Music was always going. My grandmother was very, very hard, and I saw that, but we would always be laughing. I got two grandmothers and my mother's mother and father's mother are both in their 80s and still alive and still—how do I put it?—actively opinionated. [laughs] And I trust them dearly. My grandmother on my father's side bought me a piano when I was seven. I didn't know how to read music, so she'd put the charts up, and she don't know how to read either, so I would pretend. If she hears this interview, then she'll know that, otherwise she'll never know! I wrote the first song on that piano and she sang. She has a beautiful voice. It reminds me of [starts singing] Soon I will be done... [stops singing]. What's that lady's name? An old gospel singer. Very famous.
GQ: Mahalia Jackson?
Erykah Badu: 
Yes! She was a straitlaced grandmother, very religious. If I had to sing something on the piano, it couldn't be saying baby or nothing, it had to be Jesus. It had to mean something.
GQ: How did that influence you?
Erykah Badu: 
Greatly! I still carry that with me. Not literally, but I understand the lesson, which is, Make sure it's real. When you do it, it gotta be real, or that's not it. That is something I carry with me in my pocket.
GQ: Did your mother encourage you being an artist?
Erykah Badu: 
Hell yeah. She's my number-one fan, supporter, and everything. I don't know nothing about failing as a result of what she says to me. "You're gonna win. You're the best. Don't worry about it. You got it. You're the dopest. They can't fuck with you." That's her. All day. That's, to me, an example of great parenting. Maybe we missed a couple things, some name-brand cookies, but I had everything.
GQ: What did she think of your moving to New York?
Erykah Badu: 
Same thing. She encouraged me. She saw it before me, you know? She knew what was going to happen because she saw how much time I put into my craft. She made it available to me. Instead of going to summer school, go to summer art camp. She would meet people in charge of certain programs, and we'd get in for free—different art programs and things. She knew. She noticed it. My mom is an artist in her own way, not in the same way I am, but she recognized that I had a talent. [long pause] She didn't push me to do it, or make it something I had to do; I didn't feel like I was living vicariously through her. She knew what was up, you know? She rarely came to the shows. She had other stuff she needed to do. But I showed her the pictures, what I wore. She knew. We had such a great relationship.
GQ: Your style is like nobody else. Where did that come from?
Erykah Badu: 
That's just what I was. That's what I love about Kedar: He didn't say anything about that. I felt embraced by him. It just so happens that it was something fresh to people. I try to keep it fresh, you know? I enjoy it. It's art, for me. It's a functional art.
GQ: What's next thing for you?
Erykah Badu: 
I'm recording an album right now, with [experimental music producer] Flying Lotus. I'm touring. But things are slowing down now 'cause my children are in school again. [Badu has three children: a son with Andre 3000; a daughter with rapper the D.O.C.; and a daughter with rapper Jay Electronica.] This is the time of year when we all nest in our little home in Dallas and cook breakfast and all those things we been doin' on tour, just in one place. I'm kind of a recluse when it comes to going outside.
GQ: How did you and Flying Lotus hook up?
Erykah Badu: 
We were talking to each other on MySpace years ago when MySpace was a thing. Social networking was how we hooked up. I told him I'd be in L.A. and he came over to Steve Wilson's house—Stevie is a psychedelic guitar player, a great musician. If both of our worlds can meet and we feel good about it, it's going to be something dope.








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