Steve Lacy and Erykah Badu Make Every Word Count on Pure Colour
Steve Lacy opens Pure Colour with a voice that feels almost haunting in its intimacy. Before the drums settle in or the melody fully reveals itself, he quietly admits, “I hardly recognize myself.” It is a heartbreaking opening because almost everyone has experienced a moment where they no longer recognise the person staring back at them. Whether it comes after heartbreak, grief, or simply growing older, it’s a feeling that’s difficult to put into words.
From there, the song gently pulls listeners into the world Pure Colour was created in.
The production is beautifully restrained. The drums keep a steady pulse while the violin quietly carries much of the emotional weight, creating the perfect foundation for Erykah Badu’s voice and lyrics to shine. Every instrument knows exactly when to step forward and when to disappear.
Lyrically, Steve Lacy leans into vulnerability with remarkable honesty. “I miss you, so I lose control of me” and “My want for you runs deep as hell” capture the kind of longing that consumes you long before you realise how deep you’ve fallen.
Then comes one of the song’s most revealing moments.
“My family thinks I’ll be my father / They don’t know shit.”
For a brief moment, the song shifts beyond romantic longing and opens the door to something much heavier. It touches on identity, expectation and the fear of becoming someone you never wanted to be. It’s a simple couplet, but it says far more than many songs manage in an entire verse.
Erykah Badu’s comforting entrance deepens the song.
“I’m high, just wanna feel lighter… Gotta try harder, ’cause I know it works.”
Her verse carries the voice of someone choosing hope, even if they haven’t fully found it yet. She isn’t pretending everything is okay and it is something to be grateful for.
The chemistry between both artists is effortless.
One of Pure Colour’s most memorable moments comes at the end when Steve Lacy and Erykah Badu begin counting backwards together.
“Ten… Nine… Eight…”
The countdown could be a reset, it could be two people grounding themselves before everything fades away or just a nice addition to the song.
Whatever it represents, it leaves a lasting impression. As the numbers disappear, Steve Lacy’s voice lingers for just a little longer, giving the song a quiet, reflective ending that stays with you long after it ends.
Pure Colour is a song that allows its emotions to exist, trusting listeners to find pieces of themselves inside them:
