About an hour after the concert is expected to begin, murmurs ripple across Wingate Field as Erykah Badu's afro makes its entrance. It has to be said: "It's bigger than the government." She saunters on stage with her down-to-earth swag to greet her antsy constituents. Off her latest album, New Amerykah, Part One: 4th World War, Badu drops "The Healer" on the crowd. Her gentle chanting and soulful wails set the pace for the night. Only a few artists have proven to be as innovative, as expressive, and as effortless as Miss Lowdown Loretta Brown. Trust no one is going to leave without an experience.

Between the tantalizing bass and her fantastical lyrics, the crowd is almost completely silent. The ambiance is still, yet electric; she got everyone in that kind of mood. Badu even playfully antagonizes the crowd for being too quiet, asking them to just scream a little bit, until "Love of My Life" begins. The audience finally starts to sing and dance, and when she tells them to put their hands up, everyone abides. Eventually, she just lets the mic have it. "Soldier" teleports the performance to a whole new level. This neo-soul artist can spit fire - it's raw poetry. All the dirty cops must be getting a little self-conscious for a minute there. There is nothing like joking about inciting a riot to get the crowd riled up and the police nervous. No worries, everything is left intact.

Even though she cracks jokes throughout her entire performance, Badu stops and takes a minute to get serious. She starts off promoting the album, which happens to be named after the documentary, The Fourth World War. It depicts different political and socioeconomic situations around the world. Basically, it is about the struggles people face in the name of human rights on a personal level. This is not a television event where her lines are regurgitated from a teleprompter. She does not sound preachy at all when she talks about censorship in America and a global revolution. The people who claim to care should be aware of what the government does not allow the public to see. This funk stylist talks about it in her Southern twang casually like she's having brunch. While she converses with the crowd, her sincerity and concern is undeniable under that effervescent, gritty humor. After the heartfelt talk, she hops back into performance mode.

words by Linda Li