Post by fugees-online on Feb 14, 2004 15:45:40 GMT 1
Retro Classic: The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill - Colombia Records, 1998
The ill thing about the hip-hop culture is that it's so incredibly versatile. It's sort of like that amorphous, shape-shifting, unicellular amoeba you studied in your highschool biology class. You could wake up one day, throw on your baggy fatigue bottoms and black Carhart hoodie, slip in your M.O.P disc and get your gangsta lean on. Or you could throw on your gators, don your fuchsia pink suit, slip in an Eightball & MJG disc and get your space-pimp stroll on.
It's almost like there is a hip-hop artist out there to satisfy every kind of taste and personality. But every now and then, you come across exceptional artists like Lauryn Hill - whose music spans the entire gamut of human emotions. These special ones give you the hip-hop fix your system fiends for, plus they add a little somethin' extra on top. That way, their music remains fresh on your mind long after you're done playing their album.
Lauryn's solo album, The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill was complete in every way - featuring skills, soul, and substance in the exact needed quantities. By the time the album was released, everyone already knew L-Boogie spit flames on the mic. On The Fugees debut album, "Blunted on Reality" (when they still had "The Tranzlator Crew" tag attached to their name), she was the spotlight stealing MC of the group giving break-out performances on the Salaam Remi-produced singles "Nappy Heads" and "Vocab." She continued her lyrical excellence on the breakout sophomore album The Score, the multi-platinum album that made the three members of the Refugee crew household names.
Miseducation opened with "Lost Ones," a bare-boned percussion driven track over which Lauryn spit curare-tipped lyrical darts about cats getting caught up in the paper chase and ignoring the deeper, more important aspects of life. The tracks that followed were a perfect mixture of hip-hop and soul music that featured lush, soothing textures and flawless musical arrangement. The songs spoke about the Black "bohemian" experience, lovelorn relationships, new-found love, enduring love (there was a lot of love on the album), and the quest to discover one's true self.
On Miseducation, Lauryn did nothing half-assed. When she wanted to show the world her singing pipes were just as good as her rapping skills, she recruited the regal Mary J. Blige, and together they belted out "I Used to Love Him" - a male-bashing fest about love gone wrong, and shiesty, cheatin-ass ni99as. When she wanted to slow things down and give you some old-school Curtis Mayfield / Marvin Gaye type soul, she recruited D'Angelo, and together they crooned the molasses-paced, acoustic ditty "Nothing Even Matters" - an addictive joint about love without limits. When she wanted to drop knowledge, she didn't just drop a gem or two on you, she outright preached sermons to yo' ass. Songs like "Forgive them Father" and "Doo-Wop" chided all wicked souls, and meted out trunk loads of advice for anyone ready to listen. Actually the high "holier than thou" quotient of so many songs on the Miseducation might have been the only drawback on the album -- it turned a good number of people off before they could even absorb all the tasty morsels the album had to offer.
Ultimately, the superior musicianship and sheer lyrical force of tracks on the Miseducation album like the Santana-assisted "Zion," the reggae-tinged "When it Hurts So Bad" and the sultry bonus track "Tell Him" can't be denied. In retrospect, it's really no wonder that the Miseducation album transcended all kinds of music genres, and garnered as many Grammy's as it did. The album was a torchbearer in many ways - swathing new paths for female emcees and creating new lanes for conscious and alternative rap. Hopefully, her current hiatus from the game will be over soon, and she returns to the scene real soon with more of that vintage, L-Boogie, horizon-expanding hip-hop.
Big Ups to Brick City.
written by George Hagan
Tuesday - November 18, 2003
www.sohh.com/thecore/read.php?contentID=5273
The ill thing about the hip-hop culture is that it's so incredibly versatile. It's sort of like that amorphous, shape-shifting, unicellular amoeba you studied in your highschool biology class. You could wake up one day, throw on your baggy fatigue bottoms and black Carhart hoodie, slip in your M.O.P disc and get your gangsta lean on. Or you could throw on your gators, don your fuchsia pink suit, slip in an Eightball & MJG disc and get your space-pimp stroll on.
It's almost like there is a hip-hop artist out there to satisfy every kind of taste and personality. But every now and then, you come across exceptional artists like Lauryn Hill - whose music spans the entire gamut of human emotions. These special ones give you the hip-hop fix your system fiends for, plus they add a little somethin' extra on top. That way, their music remains fresh on your mind long after you're done playing their album.
Lauryn's solo album, The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill was complete in every way - featuring skills, soul, and substance in the exact needed quantities. By the time the album was released, everyone already knew L-Boogie spit flames on the mic. On The Fugees debut album, "Blunted on Reality" (when they still had "The Tranzlator Crew" tag attached to their name), she was the spotlight stealing MC of the group giving break-out performances on the Salaam Remi-produced singles "Nappy Heads" and "Vocab." She continued her lyrical excellence on the breakout sophomore album The Score, the multi-platinum album that made the three members of the Refugee crew household names.
Miseducation opened with "Lost Ones," a bare-boned percussion driven track over which Lauryn spit curare-tipped lyrical darts about cats getting caught up in the paper chase and ignoring the deeper, more important aspects of life. The tracks that followed were a perfect mixture of hip-hop and soul music that featured lush, soothing textures and flawless musical arrangement. The songs spoke about the Black "bohemian" experience, lovelorn relationships, new-found love, enduring love (there was a lot of love on the album), and the quest to discover one's true self.
On Miseducation, Lauryn did nothing half-assed. When she wanted to show the world her singing pipes were just as good as her rapping skills, she recruited the regal Mary J. Blige, and together they belted out "I Used to Love Him" - a male-bashing fest about love gone wrong, and shiesty, cheatin-ass ni99as. When she wanted to slow things down and give you some old-school Curtis Mayfield / Marvin Gaye type soul, she recruited D'Angelo, and together they crooned the molasses-paced, acoustic ditty "Nothing Even Matters" - an addictive joint about love without limits. When she wanted to drop knowledge, she didn't just drop a gem or two on you, she outright preached sermons to yo' ass. Songs like "Forgive them Father" and "Doo-Wop" chided all wicked souls, and meted out trunk loads of advice for anyone ready to listen. Actually the high "holier than thou" quotient of so many songs on the Miseducation might have been the only drawback on the album -- it turned a good number of people off before they could even absorb all the tasty morsels the album had to offer.
Ultimately, the superior musicianship and sheer lyrical force of tracks on the Miseducation album like the Santana-assisted "Zion," the reggae-tinged "When it Hurts So Bad" and the sultry bonus track "Tell Him" can't be denied. In retrospect, it's really no wonder that the Miseducation album transcended all kinds of music genres, and garnered as many Grammy's as it did. The album was a torchbearer in many ways - swathing new paths for female emcees and creating new lanes for conscious and alternative rap. Hopefully, her current hiatus from the game will be over soon, and she returns to the scene real soon with more of that vintage, L-Boogie, horizon-expanding hip-hop.
Big Ups to Brick City.
written by George Hagan
Tuesday - November 18, 2003
www.sohh.com/thecore/read.php?contentID=5273
