Post by dawyked on Dec 22, 2005 22:21:21 GMT 1
Check this out:
Wyclef hogs the limelight in the Fugees' faltering return
Helen Brown reviews The Fugees at the Men Arena in Manchester
Wyclef Jean is desperate to get the crowd onside, despite the fact that the Fugees appear an hour late for their first UK performance since their acrimonious break-up in 1996.
He rushes out on to the stage alone and, behaving like his own warm-up act, rolls out an energetic box of tricks. There's a bit of Bob Marley, just him and his electric guitar. Then a slick slice of a cappella rapping in Spanish. "You wanna hear it in Japanese?"
The audience of twenty- and thirtysomethings in the chilly, half-full arena cheer gamely. He ploughs on, occasionally glancing nervously stage left. Are Pras Michel and Lauryn Hill, the other members of the group, even here?
As our attention wanders, Jean leaps down from the stage and apologises to an embarrassed man at the front. He admits that, if he'd paid good money for this, he'd have led the booing.
It's far from a triumphant return for the trio who took their socially aware brand of hip hop into the mainstream in the '90s, selling 18 million copies worldwide of their catchy album The Score. The Fugees seemed all-conquering until Jean's - probably romantic - relationship with Hill soured, and the three stars set out to pursue solo careers of varying success.
When Hill finally struts onstage, her huge afro bouncing to the beat of a big band, we do get that original "Fugee energy". But she makes limited contact with Jean, and mumbles into her mike while he addresses the crowd. Michel lurks at the back in a hooded top.
The old hits still have power, though, despite some muddy sound, and girls in strappy tops bop about, waving their mobiles in the air when so instructed. "Say something, Lauryn!" says Jean. "The people here love you!"
"I don't know what to say," she mutters, before offering a few huskily soulful bars from Working My Way Back To You.
Performing her solo single, Doo Wop (That Thing) she raps passionately, punching the air with her gold-bangle-encrusted arms, and we get a fleeting thrill of superstar static. For Killing Me Softly, her voice is gripping, but she misses lines, words. Things feel unsatisfyingly shambolic.
There's a new three-part rap about Iraq, presumably from the group's new album, destined for release in the spring. But we don't get the new single, Take It Easy.
And then the lights come up. "This is like Fugee rehab," says Hill. "A work in progress, but we're comin' back." She sings, a cappella, of an "ancient love, a sainted love…" until her mic is faded out. She's left handing out T-shirts in fluorescent-lit silence.
Are the Fugees ready for a comeback? Based on this show, I'd say not.
, i live u that 4 your consideration people
Wyclef hogs the limelight in the Fugees' faltering return
Helen Brown reviews The Fugees at the Men Arena in Manchester
Wyclef Jean is desperate to get the crowd onside, despite the fact that the Fugees appear an hour late for their first UK performance since their acrimonious break-up in 1996.
He rushes out on to the stage alone and, behaving like his own warm-up act, rolls out an energetic box of tricks. There's a bit of Bob Marley, just him and his electric guitar. Then a slick slice of a cappella rapping in Spanish. "You wanna hear it in Japanese?"
The audience of twenty- and thirtysomethings in the chilly, half-full arena cheer gamely. He ploughs on, occasionally glancing nervously stage left. Are Pras Michel and Lauryn Hill, the other members of the group, even here?
As our attention wanders, Jean leaps down from the stage and apologises to an embarrassed man at the front. He admits that, if he'd paid good money for this, he'd have led the booing.
It's far from a triumphant return for the trio who took their socially aware brand of hip hop into the mainstream in the '90s, selling 18 million copies worldwide of their catchy album The Score. The Fugees seemed all-conquering until Jean's - probably romantic - relationship with Hill soured, and the three stars set out to pursue solo careers of varying success.
When Hill finally struts onstage, her huge afro bouncing to the beat of a big band, we do get that original "Fugee energy". But she makes limited contact with Jean, and mumbles into her mike while he addresses the crowd. Michel lurks at the back in a hooded top.
The old hits still have power, though, despite some muddy sound, and girls in strappy tops bop about, waving their mobiles in the air when so instructed. "Say something, Lauryn!" says Jean. "The people here love you!"
"I don't know what to say," she mutters, before offering a few huskily soulful bars from Working My Way Back To You.
Performing her solo single, Doo Wop (That Thing) she raps passionately, punching the air with her gold-bangle-encrusted arms, and we get a fleeting thrill of superstar static. For Killing Me Softly, her voice is gripping, but she misses lines, words. Things feel unsatisfyingly shambolic.
There's a new three-part rap about Iraq, presumably from the group's new album, destined for release in the spring. But we don't get the new single, Take It Easy.
And then the lights come up. "This is like Fugee rehab," says Hill. "A work in progress, but we're comin' back." She sings, a cappella, of an "ancient love, a sainted love…" until her mic is faded out. She's left handing out T-shirts in fluorescent-lit silence.
Are the Fugees ready for a comeback? Based on this show, I'd say not.
, i live u that 4 your consideration people 
, i know it's bad, i just want to let u know the think of the people outside.