She was low-key glamorous in baggy jeans and a sparkly puff of hair, winking as she passed by, and it was just a moment, but it was a Moment, five seconds that live in my head like an hour.
When Erykah Badu told Zach Witness, an unheralded producer from East Dallas, that she might like to come to his home studio and work on some music, he didn’t dare believe her.
While traveling through Paris, The "Prime Time" singer caught up with Editor-in-Chief Isoul Harris as the pair discussed her love life, place in music, responsibility as an artist and a few of her famous friends who go by the names of Erykah Badu and Prince. I am fine with my 200-seat church, as long as the people that need it come and get inspired.
Check out a the excerpts below: On the lesbian rumors... I know what I could do to be amongst the popular crowd." On the biggest misconception about her...
But she spends a considerable part of every year on the road, as has been her custom since 1997, when she released her début album, “Baduizm,” which sold millions of copies, earned her a pair of Grammys, and made her one of the most celebrated soul singers of the modern era.
“This woman came on with incense, a head wrap, and tea,” he remembers.
She was impossibly elegant, intoning lyrics that sounded like a dreamy distant cousin of the blues: No doubt many Nickelodeon viewers were confused, but Witness was converted, especially once he discovered that the singer was also a local.
Badu had come of age in the late nineteen-eighties, in Dallas’s embryonic hip-hop scene; two decades later, as Witness nursed his own obsession with hip-hop, he tried to live up to her example. called White Chocolate, he entertained black and Latino crowds at the local skating rink.) Last year, he paid tribute to Badu with a faintly psychedelic remix of one of her best-loved songs, “Bag Lady,” which he posted online, along with a note in which he confessed that he viewed her as “a second mother.”The remix was just one small sign of Badu’s enduring appeal and influence.
Although she sometimes calls herself Analog Girl, she is adept at social media, and when she heard Witness’s remix she responded, on Twitter, with a four-letter word of praise: “Oooh.” Badu and Witness traded messages, and she told him that she had been thinking about recording a version of “Hotline Bling,” the viral hit by Drake, built around a passive-aggressive reminder to an old flame: “You used to call me on my cell phone.” This exchange scarcely prepared Witness for the shock of seeing Badu, a few days later, at the front door of his house—the same house where he had once watched her on television.