Erykah brings her trippy show to town

Ever since 1997, when she leapt into the public eye with her Grammy-winning, soul-blues debut, "Baduizm," Erykah Badu has been considered a bit kooky.

She wore giant head wraps and big Egyptian ankhs. She lit incense and made tea at her shows. When a journalist outed her for wearing artificial dreadlocks, she took to wearing enormous Afro and pageboy wigs, which she is now known to fling off midconcert or arrange backward on her head.

Yes, Badu, whose current stage show is said to involve play with stability balls, tapping out eerie sounds on a Mac and stage diving, has always been, at least publicly, strange. And in an R&B landscape full of copycat vixens, her trippy persona and musical evolution from neo-soul hippie to funk priestess has certainly been unconventional, but refreshing at the same time.

"I guess you call it to the left," she said of her music in a phone interview Tuesday. Her tour brings her to Norfolk on Friday.

Her current album, "New Amerykah Part One (4th World War)," ventures beyond the soul-blues-jazz she became known for into a sort of psycho-hip-hop sound, influenced by '70s blaxploitation, hip-hop and dub. And she's always been challenging lyrically, stuffing songs with references to the silly, the serious and obscure, with topics like the Five Percent Nation or Kemetic Orthodoxy (traditional Egyptian religion).

"Even though it's not spoon-fed right in your face, you understand the intent," she said. "We become so programmed to follow this direct line. The radio plays the same six songs, and if it's not this confirmed piece of art, it doesn't make sense, or it's crazy. I do shows sometimes and see people love what I'm doing, but they have to wait to see if other people love it, too. But I understand."

Her fans have evolved with her, she said. They haven't judged her (much) through her high-profile romances with OutKast's Andre 3000, former N.W.A. member The D.O.C. (she has a boy and a girl, respectively, with each) and rapper Common. In fact, these relationships have simply heightened her mysterious allure. (Rumor has it that looking her directly in the eye will make a man lose himself.)

Even when what she called writer's block resulted in "Worldwide Underground," a free association of meandering grooves, fans gobbled it up like it was a traditional album.

"I found out it wasn't writers block but a downloading process. Sometimes you're not supposed to be putting anything out, you're supposed to be taking everything in. I waited."

She has vowed to release three albums this year. She says the second, "New Amerykah Part Two (Return of the Ankh)," is an emotional record recalling the soulful music of "Baduizm."

Badu tends to put it all out there.

Born Erica Wright, her stage name is in fact a resistance to her "slave name." Blender magazine had a field day with her recent statement that she's never on time and that "time is for white people." On the song "Me" off her new album, she salutes Louis Farrakhan, but she maintains that she's just speaking her mind and that her statements are often taken out of context.

"I never worry about it. American journalism is like that. I'm learning it, but never worried about it. It is what it is. I don't even wish to comment back when they say something totally misleading about my character. I know who I am."

Though the native of Dallas creates music deeply rooted in the black American experience, she has found, and appears to seek, universality. After a show in Jerusalem recently, she was seen praying at the Wailing Wall; her MySpace page features poster art seemingly evocative of each of the countries she visits. The poster announcing her Nigerian date, for example, portrays her looking distinctly African, while her Moscow poster features her in rolled-up sleeves and overalls, with letters strikingly similar to that of the Cyrillic alphabet.

Her message, music and artistic imagery meld to suggest she's a world traveler. She often calls herself a healer.

"Whenever I tour I go to Europe first," she says, adding that her 81-year-old grandmother is taking the train from Dallas to Norfolk this weekend; she has extended family in the city.

"Places like Norway, Paris... it's mostly white fans. Blond hair, blue eyes. People who don't even speak English. My fans are kindred to me. They are thinkers and growers, and they love to experience and be free. It just goes to show you that it's the music that connects us all.

"And that makes me feel hopeful."

Malcolm Venable, (757) 446-2662, malcolm.venable@pilotonline.com