Erykah Badu “Mama’s Gun” (Best of the Decade)

While Erykah Badu’s debut, Baduizm, was lush, quirky and justly celebrated, it was her sophomore studio album that established her as one of the most vital, singular voices not only in neo-soul, but in American music in general. An album that deftly combines the spiritual with the political with the personal, Mama’s Gun deserves a place in the soul music canon right next to the best albums from Marvin, Stevie and the rest.

While Badu herself deserves most of the credit, the contributions of the Soulquarian production squad, including J Dilla, James Poyser, ?uestlove of the Roots and others, can’t be ignored. The songs on Mama’s Gun are groove-oriented without getting lost in jam-band noodling and weirdness. They’re unique and innovative while still keeping a pop sensibility. And the album flows so beautifully, from the rocking “Penitentiary Philosophy” through the wink-and-smile of “Cleva” through the melancholy warning of “Bag Lady” to the devastating final track, the multi-movement “Green Eyes.”

Badu’s lyrics, and her delivery of those lyrics, are what really separate “Mama’s Gun” from the pack, however. She has the ability to make protest songs sound like love poetry (especially on the heartbreaking Amadou Diallo elegy “A.D. 2000″) and breakup songs sound like manifestos on identity. The vulnerability in her voice, particularly on some of the album’s more personal tracks, is a marvel of subtlety and control. Badu has a monster voice, but she very rarely lets it out on this album, instead opting for a more conversational approach that only intensifies the power of her lyrics.

Nowhere is this more apparent than on “Green Eyes.” The rare ten-minute song that actually justifies its length, “Green Eyes” (allegedly) tells the story of Badu’s breakup with Andre Benjamin of OutKast over three distinct musical and lyrical movements. It’s a complex track, both sonically and emotionally, but it’s never overwhelming or difficult for the sake of being difficult.

And for me, that’s part of the definition of great art. Mama’s Gun is complex, innovative and creative, but it’s also incredibly listenable, even catchy. Radiohead does that. OutKast does that. And Erykah Badu does that, maybe better than anyone.