Erykah Badu Brings Her Art Into the World Like a Doula
“I have one foot on the Earth and one foot in a jar of electricity.”
In a world that moves at the speed of a scroll, Erykah Badu asked 25 people to slow down and listen.
To mark its 25th anniversary, Telekom Electronic Beats invited the Queen of Neo Soul to transform Reethaus Berlin‘s “Sound Temple” into a space of both sound and silence with an event dubbed “Monday Ceremony.” During an intimate immersion guided by Badu herself, guests surrendered their phones, lay on floor mats and tuned in through headphones.
Following its Tokyo debut held at Kalkul rooftop in Shibuya this summer, the Berlin edition offered a rare encounter with Badu’s evolving practice; a blend of archival recordings, unreleased material and spontaneous improvisations that will never repeat. The performance hovered between digital and analog, creating a shared meditation on what it means to be fully present.
Continue reading for a conversation with Erykah Badu about presence, process and the power of ceremony in a distracted age.
You are a certified birth doula. What are the parallels between that and bringing a new album into the world?
The parallels of bringing an album to the world can be comparable to being a birth doula. They are [both] a time of patience. Sometimes silence comes before the birth and, most times, pain and a releasing something personal. They are [both] something that only you’ve lived with and now you have to share it with everything and everyone. It’s relieving and frightening at the same time.
Do you intentionally write your own lyrics, or is it more improvisational?
My writing process is improvisational. For me, writing has to have music involved, or I’d be writing poetry. The first thing I do is hum along with the tune to see where I fit in. Second, I start chanting rhythmically to see where my drum fits in with the other drums. Then, I have to interpret this whole chant process. I can hear words in there, and I can hear melodies in there. As a songwriter, I write every song that I have, so it’s like a mini birth each time putting sound to something you are or feel.
You’ve also said that performance is your therapy. What gets healed when you’re on stage?
To me, life is a process of healing after healing, after healing, after healing. Something gets healed every time I go on stage, because I’m able to open my mouth and let out the things that no longer evolve me. Something gets healed each time; if not in me, in the audience somewhere, someone is relating to or mirroring what I’m going through, and they may get the healing before me.
You keep good luck charms and talismans on you. Are you wearing them right now?
Yes, these are my veils. I like for my clothes to make music. I was told that I should always surround myself with things that make me happy and smile. So, that’s what I do. The frequency of bells is very special in every culture.
We live in a very materially minded world, but why is music an inherently spiritual practice for you?
Music is a spiritual practice for my whole tribe, for my whole family, for every tribe based society on the planet. To make sound and make music is to be in tune with Earth; whether we know that’s what we’re doing or not. We’re calling forth the energies that made music before us, that made sound before us.
How do you feel that technology is shaping our understanding of energy, frequency and divination practices?
It’s all energy, whether it comes from ones and zeros or from your mouth. It’s all matter. It has a potential to be good and the potential to be bad, depending on who the author is. Being part of our new digital landscape is a big part of who I am and what I am. I’m in that world as much as I am in this world.
You describe yourself as an “analog girl in a digital world.” How does that sensibility shape the way that you approach sound today?
I’m just good at naturally making music. Whether it’s analog or whether it’s programming with a synthesizer or electronics. As a Pisces, I live a cognitive, dissonant life. I have one foot on the Earth and one foot in a jar of electricity. I learned it very quickly, and I can add on to my art that way. I recognize that I do have a talent. I actually do art, and it just enhances what I do.
As a certified death doula, what parts of yourself creatively have you allowed to pass away?
The need for approval, and the need for validation. I just decided to certify myself one day, and I no longer needed that approval of validation, because I can’t do anything but be me.
