Post by fugees-online on Jul 16, 2005 22:48:44 GMT 1
EXCLUSIVE: brand new interview with Lauryn Hill. Published by TRACE Magazine (ISSUE 57, OUT: July 14th 2005)
www.trace212.com/new/home.htm
[shadow=black,left,300]The Prophet [/shadow]
Text: Claude Grunitzky
Photography: Nicolas Hidiroglou
Lauryn Hill is one of the most relevant musicians in the world, but she may also be her own worst enemy.
After six year in self-imposed exile, how can the reclusive star return to a world she has abandoned, and wake the people up with songs of freedom?
“Fantasy is what people want, but reality is what they need,” announces Lauryn Hill. “I’ve just retired from the fantasy part.” Reading into that confession, spoken candidly before a small, captive audience in a Times Square studio for the acoustic MTV UNPLUGGED recording in July 2001, any imaginative storyteller could have easily scripted the first chapter of Lauryn Hill’s chronicle of an exile foretold. Her tense, uneven performance on that summer night – where she delivered soul-searching lines like “I find it hard to say that everything is alright” and “Please help me forget about him, he takes all my energy” – amounted to a public display of anguish. A desperate cry for help, the disappointing UNPLUGGED session signalled the unravelling of a major star whose seemingly glamorous life had secretly veered into disarray.
When the UNPLUGGED record and DVD were released to relatively modest commercial success in 2001, many admirers realised that Lauryn Hill had already sacrificed herself on the altar of celebrity. Further back in our collective consciousness, the first public incarnation, Lauryn Hill (aka L Boogie), had retired with the Fugees in the early summer of 1998. The exuberant, freestyling hip hop princess the world had come to love for her sweet rendition of the song “Killing Me Softly With His Song,” had gradually cleared the stage for an emancipated, free-associating R&B queen, the one who emerged soon after the reggae-tinged battle rhymes of “Lost Ones” swept the streets of New York in the buildup to the total triumph that was THE MISEDUCATION OF LAURYN HILL.
Five Grammys and 12 million album sales later, the endearing, devout young mother and auteur who had opened her heart to the public and sung about her devotion to her son Zion, made a timid MTV comeback on that summer night by rocking a stone-washed denim jacket with jeans and a New York Yankees baseball cap. She slung an acoustic guitar, avoided direct eye contact, and told her assembled fans that “I used to dress up for y’all: I don’t do that anymore.” Oh la la la!
In May of this year, Ms Hill as she now insists on being called – walked, unaccompanied by publicists or assistants, two and a half hours late, into the Upper East Side Manhattan penthouse duplex that TRACE had rented for the cover shoot. Almost immediately, she asked our assembled production and editorial crew to leave the main room, where hundreds of samples of high end designer clothing, jewelry and accessories had been frantically curated to create the ultra-sophisticated new looks she had requested.
I had already interviewed her twice for this magazine, ten and seven years ago, in London and New York City. The last time we’d spoken was for a memorable December 1998 cover story she’d shared with D’Angelo. She was seven months pregnant with her second child, and on the day of the interview, she had found out that the newly released MISEDUCATION album was the best-selling record in America.
Nonetheless, this time around, when I greeted her upon her arrival for what would be her first magazine shoot and interview in years, she sent me off swiftly and said she didn’t remember me. (I had heard that she doesn’t even talk to the 18 musicians she has recruited for her band, that she only speaks to them when giving them orders, therefore I was not all that surprised by her new, distant demeanour.)
She then refused to let our makeup artist touch her face, and asked for a replacement to be sent over immediately. (Granted, the makeup artist she had requested was not available that day, but I had also heard that on the cover shoot for her upcoming album, which had taken place a few weeks earlier, the glam team had spoken of a nightmare experience, therefore our makeup episode was not entirely surprising either.) We sent our disappointed Japanese makeup artist home and called in a last minute favour. Our replacement – a fan – cancelled her plans for that afternoon, hopped on the subway and rushed in from the Bronx. (As we would discover on numerous occasions, the fans are out there, and they remain devoted to an idol they only know through their songs.)
When our photographer finally got to shoot the pictures that would appear in this portfolio, more than six hours after the TRACE team had arrived on set, Ms Hill asked for a mirror to be held to the left of the camera, so that she could approve her own reflected image, even before the photographer and his assistant were given a chance to frame each picture. The fact that one of our most esteemed fashion assistants would accept to hold a mirror next to a camera for a cover star was a first, as far as this team was concerned.
Our editorial staffers, all huge fans of L Boogie and Lauryn Hill, were starting to wonder who this Ms Hill really was, and why she was acting like a paranoid, egotistical diva. A series of intense, enlightening and, at times, baffling interviews would follow that initial false start. The interviews and conversations that fed this ten-chapter story were conducted over the two-week period that ended on Lauryn Hill’s 30 birthday, May 26th, 2005. I realised that Lauryn Hill was a young woman who refused to serve two masters. When everyone around her was telling her to chase the fame and fortune, she was looking to get closer to God. When she fell in love, she found out that dysfunctional people love dysfunctionally. Although our conversations revealed many traits of a tortured, stimulated, brilliant mind, they would provide some invaluable clues into the contradictions and machinations behind one of modern music’s true geniuses.
1. THE MISEDUCATION
Ms Hill gave the interview process a jump-start with a statement which seemed, at the time, to come out of nowhere: “When I was wearing tight, short clothes, when I was younger, it wasn’t to tempt men. It was the expression of art, and how we felt about the beauty of the body.” We came to realise that the image – her image – and its role – her role – within society were of real concern to her. She feels that one of the many problem with today’s society, comes from people’s adoption of popular styles, just because they want to be cool. The kind of people who wear the right Bob Marley or Che Guevara t-shirts, she feels, are always looking for what is cool, and that uniformity has killed most expressions of individuality.
“When I was picking my clothes,” she would later admit, “I didn’t think the world would come to see me as this Greek Goddess. I did it to be different, to set myself apart, because I enjoyed it. I had to create this unique collection of styles, that was absolutely my own, but after that I didn’t know how to feel about this absolute commercialisation of my identity.”
When, during the shoot, she gravitated towards an update on the classic Brigitte Bardot meets Jackie O look from the swinging sixties, albeit with a new, permed hairstyle that left behind the dreadlocks and natural hairdos she had made popular a decade earlier, it became clear that the new visual expressions of the Ms Hill personality could change with her moods. “People are afraid to embrace the world as themselves, of walking in this world as themselves,” she later said. “Society, which makes us emulate each other, has created this dynamic where we are all A’s and B’s, and not the whole of the alphabet, from A to Z. We need to embrace our individuality again, because it’s like generational abortion.” This idea of generational abortion would prove a major point in our various discussions because Ms Hill feels that the world has gone wrong, that this generation has gone wrong, that hip hop has gone wrong, and that she needs to “right wrongs,” an expression that came up several times during our conversations. In other words, it seems that this generation has been miseducated.
“I have to take a lot of credit for introducing taste and style to the world,” she told me, without the slightest hint of irony. “I think my contributions, and what I projected through my own identity, changed a lot of things. I remember wearing a skirt on stage, and that was illegal in hip hop. I introduced certain musical elements to hip hop that were not there before, and I used certain language that was deemed a little too articulate for hip hop, but at the time I wasn’t looking at it as a contribution. I was just being myself.”
That statement resonated loud and clear when I measured it against a telling anecdote, where the managing editor of this magazine told me when I was writing this story that Lauryn Hill was the main reason she herself had decided, a few years ago, as a teenager, to sport dreadlocks. “I wanted to be like her. She was my idol.”
2. THE EDUCATION
One day, on the phone, she said she wanted to talk about the contradictions in the UNPLUGGED album. “What I have learned in the past five years, is how the other half lives. I was trying to learn what normal was like, but then I realised that I was never normal. With the UNPLUGGED record, I was learning something. I had to understand that the truth that God spoke about in the Bible was the truth, and I almost went outside of myself to explain it to people.” That UNPLUGGED performance was just one performance, I told her. “But it was one crucial performance,” she interjected. “Even if it was an error, I spoke from the point of view of sincerity. Let’s take the whole notion of normalcy as an example. The fact that I considered myself normal was the problem on that record. I thought I was like other people, but then I found myself the object of envy, jealousy and resentment. And this was coming from the very people whose cause I was championing.
“Up to that point, there had been no real information on what had happened to the Fugees, or to me. There are a lot of people I could have exposed on that record, whose dark behaviour I could have exposed, but I didn’t and it cost me my freedom. On that record I was apologetic about certain things, and I wanted to show all of my flaws. First, the lyrics alone were ahead of their time. No one was writing like that at the time, but I was still a lot more articulate and well bred than I made manifest. Up to that point, there were certain rules in music and one had to stay in their box. I felt like I became a sacrificial lamb, because I was the first to come out of the box in that way.”
Come out of the box she certainly did, and many of the four million people who bought the UNPLUGGED album came out of the experience feeling unsatisfied. The guitar riffs were monotonous and repetitive. Even though they lyricism was groundbreaking in its proclaimed introspection, the record felt like one long lament on the world gone wrong. “I find it hard to say that everything is alright,” she sang, but in a year that would be forever defined by the traumatic 9/11 experience, no one wanted to hear songs with titles like “Adam Lives In Theory” and “Mr. Intentional”. Looking back, however, it must be noted that the UNPLUGGED record was influential in some ways, not least because Kanye West stole a hook from her “Mystery of Iniquity” and turned it into last year’s monster smash “All Falls Down.” Ms Hill feels that the situation with the “Mystery of Iniquity” (which contained the lyrics “You can’t handle the truth in a courtroom of lies”) is proof that Kanye West – though he may not publicly acknowledge this fact – might have been searching the web for some of the live music she was “just giving away at the time.” She says she was giving away “diamonds” – many of which ended up on the internet – because the studio experience had become claustrophobic.
For her comeback record, what people wanted was more of that emancipated MISEDUCATION sound, but in 2001, she was not yet ready to put out songs in the key of that previous life. “With THE MISEDUCATION I was overly gracious, to my detriment,” she says. “I thanked a lot of people on that record that I shouldn’t have.” She may – or may not – have been alluding to the musicians Johari Newton, Tejumold Newton, Vada Nobles and Rasheem Pugh, who sued her in 1998 – and later settled for an unspecified amount – claiming that they had produced 14 of the key songs on the MISEDUCATION album without receiving the credits and royalties they had been promised.
“There was a distortion of balance,” she added, “and I allowed people to take credit. Some people got too much, and some people got too little, like Johari, but at the time I was not aware of my impact on the earth. That was kept from me when I was with the Fugees, although when I was a child, I always had that effect on people. My father told me recently that when I was in high school, I wrote and recited like I was in college. My confidence was supernatural.”
3. The Love
After we left the Upper East Side apartment, we went to shoot the last picture in nearby Central Park. It was getting dark, but Ms. Hill had loosened up considerably. She became friendlier, and although she refused to shake hands (she refuses all physical contact with strangers, her general disposition was sunnier than it had been all afternoon. After we shot the last roll, I was invited over to her house for a proper face-to-face interview. On a Saturday evening, the ride from upper Manhattan to South Orange, New Jersey, takes more than hour, but we finally arrived at her four-bedroom house, a suburban outpost on a non-descript, tree-lined, residential lane. (She later told me that she purchased the large house for her mom when she first made money.) Two of her adorable boys jumped up and down in the living room, and greeted her with a loving embrace only a mother can receive when she comes home from work.
Edwin Marcelin is a friend and confidant of lauryn Hill’s. He also is a collaborator who has been shooting a very personal documentary on her life, tentatively titled, To Be Young, Gifted and Black. A black surfer type who had been working in the Stussy store when her met her in California in her Sister Act 2 days, they kept in touch after she went back to New Jersey and started studying at Columbia University. He had toured the world with her in the Fugees days, and now their relationship seemed to be based on mutual trust and admiration. Ms. Hill suggested that the three of us go to a local restaurant for dinner, and when we showed up at an Italian diner called Cafe Argula, we were informed that the kitchen was closed. I realized that, in some cases, there are no exceptions for celebrities. (Anyway, she would tell me, she thinks favors can pervert situations.) We sat at semi-private booth, ordered desert and the conversations turned to the topics of love, music and art.
“I grew up really appreciating Bob Marley’s music until I realized that I had certain gifts that he had not exercised,” she said. “I wasn’t utilizing all of myself. Many people are artists, not because they decide to artists. They stumble onto a talent, a favor from God, after He decided to anoint them, and give them a little more than others. But then they have to walk this fine line between being apologetic for their talent and being considered egotistical. The same thing people get celebrated for, that’s the same they get hated for. A true artist has to understand humility, and be aware of how the world treats its prophets. I always knew I was gifted. When I was a child, I was a little aware. I just loved. I was Love. I loved God. God was on my mind. With that consciousness, came the ability to solve problems, to do my best, to be perfect at everything, but I was aware that there were other forces that might resent me for those abilities.”
During a later conversation, she told me that the motivation for everything she has done is love. “I enjoyed the elation, and seeing the audience happy fulfilled, and being a star was a natural progression. You go from being very popular kid to being a very popular person, publicly. I was always extremely popular as a kid, but as a young woman I didn’t understand that dynamic. I made music out of love, and then I got a reaction, a big reaction, and it wasn’t healthy because I ended up pleasing other people who were dysfunctional and should not have merited this attention I was giving them. If there is one thing I tell my children, it is that they have to protect love. Our understanding of love has to grow, but first, you have to love yourself, and honesty is the very thing that protects love.”
4. The Hate
A few months ago, on a rainy New York weekend afternoon, I received a call from this magazine’s senior editor. She told me that the Fugees would be reuniting in Brooklyn for an impromptu performance related to the Dave Chappelle show. For some strange reason, I never made it to Fort Greene that day, but I know from the film director Michel Gondory, who filmed the performance, and from our editor, that the show was a milestone in its spontaneous combustion of the warmed-up fan base. That performance fed the rumor mills for months, with the sepcualtion of Fugees reunion saturating some corners of the hip hop blogosphere.
Two weeks before our cover shoot in May, a Fugees reunion of sorts was engineered at a tsunami benefit concert in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Although they were not scheduled to appear on stage at the same time, Lauryn met Pras and Wyclef once the beats from some of the songs from The Score were dropped into the amplifiers. She could hardly remember some of the lyrics from the old Fugees songs, so she searched the Internet for the rhymes and hopped on stage for an emotional performance that indicated that an imminent reunion was a real possibility.
At the Café Argula, the rhetoric contradicted these two recent episodes. “The Fugees was really something that I was a part of because the people that I was around at the time, it made them happy. Love is so powerful. The Fugees was supernatural love. That’s the kind of love that can scale mountains, and create paradigms and strange dynamics. It was a very special, and fragile love, but there is a bad pattern that can happen to people who are experiencing this vibrancy of life, and there are no warnings signs.
“What happens when you have a soul, and bare it on stage, in a world of manipulation? It does create conflict, a schism. There are some people who give themselves only partially because they know the business, and then there are some people who give themselves wholly and they get hurt. In order to bare one’s soul, one has to display their whole vulnerability, which most people will never do. Those people who bare their souls end up being the source of ridicule. I wonder if people see themselves as soul-barers. I don’t think people are made of steel; they are still flesh, and they get affected. Jesus himself experienced fear, sorrow and disappointment, but he had the greater good as his focus.”
Prior to meeting Wyclef and Pras, the only job she had ever had was at Foot Locker, where she worked for a year. Even then, she suspects that the only reason the owner of the store hired her was because he was looking to put an attractive black woman behind the counter, so that young black men would keep buying the really expensive sneakers they were into at the time. In any event, the Fugees drove her desire to create all the time. “When I first met the Fugees, I was impressed with Clef’s discipline with the instrumentation, “she would later tell me. “There were no black guys I knew who played the guitar like that. I saw a spark in Wyclef that was extremely attractive…at the time. I was his confidence, and I didn’t know what it was like to grow up with no money in Haiti.”
The fear, sorrow and disappointment that she talks about have been reported in the media many times. As she told me one afternoon, People want to know about my love life, because love is attractive. “It is no longer a secret that Lauryn Hill and Wyclef Jean were lovers during the time when the Fugees rose to become the biggest band in the world. Most fans speculate that the song “Lost One”- with the lyrics “It’s funny how money change a situation” and the chorus “You might win some but you just lost one”- was directed at the ex-lover who had betrayed her trust. There have also been rumors that Wyclef and some of the other people in her life took most of the proceeds off that blockbuster album. It has been reported that she has been stiffed, and that she should have made much more money off the phenomenal Fugees album sales and sold out world tours.
That is all water under the bridge, but Lauryn Hill is clearly a woman who has been hurt by the men in her life, and the Fugees experience is one she speaks about with much pain. (I attempted to contact Wyclef Jean, a TRACE magazine regular, on more than one occasion, through his publicist, to no avail. It has been said that generally does not talk publicly about fellow Fugees members.) Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and although she told me that she did not want to elaborate on that issue, one particular interview offered much insight.
“[With the Fugees], I took a lot of abuse that many people would not have taken in these circumstances. I cannot blame others, because I can see that a lot of relationships are analogous, but I didn’t realize what was going until it was too late. I had become used to improper dynamics, where people would transfer their hatred on someone else, thereby making a beautiful person ugly. I was young gifted and black in a world where you’re not supposed to know so much, and that brought out the hatred of others. I felt like Bob Marley in Trenchtown, a royal seed in the hood.
“Mozart said genius has less to do with love. There are people who can take three chords and make a masterpiece. As a young woman, I saw the best in everyone, but I did not see the lust and insecurities of men. I discovered what a lie was, and how lies manifested themselves. A friend of mine told me that a Bser cannot bull**** another Bser, and that they can only prey on honest people. Sometimes, people lie so much that they become lost. I liked people, and relationships, but now I know that the spirit of God is the most wonderful experience.”
It is safe to say that the Fugees experience was a rite of passage for Lauryn Hill. Although she got to experience fame and fortune as a 20-year old, the scars of visible, and although the world would see her as this hard woman of steel, she was always fragile. It remains unclear whether she will ever fully recover from that moment of weakness. Lauryn Hill got into business, not realizing that she was getting into business. To hear her tell the story, she did it out of love. But she was always conflicted.
“One day, when I realized what was going on, and how much I was being taken advantage of, someone told me that it was just business. I said, ‘It was?’ How could I accept that? How could I accept that what I was doing out of love was just business? It was like me looking my child in the eye, and saying to him, ‘Child, its just business. I gave so much of my life, but I didn’t see a lot of life reflected back.”
When Lauryn Hill was with the Fugees, there was a guy who had a crush on her, and one day he pulled her aside and said to her, “Every time I approach you, your crew gives me some negative energy. They intimidate me bad.” Lauryn told him he was crazy. They decided to do an experiment with her Fugees bandmates. Lo and behold, the bandmates rejected the guy as soon as he approached Lauryn. “The Fugees was conspiracy to control, to manipulate, and to encourage dependence. My own insecurities helped to seal it for a period of time. At the time, I was not allowed to say I was great; that was considered arrogance, conceit. I had to learn through violent, turbulent experiences.”
The trauma of the Fugees, and the subsequent meltdown-she calls it a “bursting of the glass”- from the Unplugged era could partially explain why she has withdrawn from the public eye and put a barrier between herself and the public, even members of her own entourage. “People felt that they were entitled to touch me, that they were entitled to a certain greeting. I literally had to reeducate people. You have to remember that I had been through a tumultuous relationship, a painful relationship, and I was still hurting, and I hadn’t healed. You will find that insecure women have a tendency to attract insecure men. My insecurities were awkward as Alek Wek’s insecurities would have been in 1956. I felt like I was that beautiful Sudanese woman who was being called ugly, just because they didn’t understand my beauty, with their inferior perspective.”
www.trace212.com/new/home.htm
[shadow=black,left,300]The Prophet [/shadow]
Text: Claude Grunitzky
Photography: Nicolas Hidiroglou
Lauryn Hill is one of the most relevant musicians in the world, but she may also be her own worst enemy.
After six year in self-imposed exile, how can the reclusive star return to a world she has abandoned, and wake the people up with songs of freedom?
“Fantasy is what people want, but reality is what they need,” announces Lauryn Hill. “I’ve just retired from the fantasy part.” Reading into that confession, spoken candidly before a small, captive audience in a Times Square studio for the acoustic MTV UNPLUGGED recording in July 2001, any imaginative storyteller could have easily scripted the first chapter of Lauryn Hill’s chronicle of an exile foretold. Her tense, uneven performance on that summer night – where she delivered soul-searching lines like “I find it hard to say that everything is alright” and “Please help me forget about him, he takes all my energy” – amounted to a public display of anguish. A desperate cry for help, the disappointing UNPLUGGED session signalled the unravelling of a major star whose seemingly glamorous life had secretly veered into disarray.
When the UNPLUGGED record and DVD were released to relatively modest commercial success in 2001, many admirers realised that Lauryn Hill had already sacrificed herself on the altar of celebrity. Further back in our collective consciousness, the first public incarnation, Lauryn Hill (aka L Boogie), had retired with the Fugees in the early summer of 1998. The exuberant, freestyling hip hop princess the world had come to love for her sweet rendition of the song “Killing Me Softly With His Song,” had gradually cleared the stage for an emancipated, free-associating R&B queen, the one who emerged soon after the reggae-tinged battle rhymes of “Lost Ones” swept the streets of New York in the buildup to the total triumph that was THE MISEDUCATION OF LAURYN HILL.
Five Grammys and 12 million album sales later, the endearing, devout young mother and auteur who had opened her heart to the public and sung about her devotion to her son Zion, made a timid MTV comeback on that summer night by rocking a stone-washed denim jacket with jeans and a New York Yankees baseball cap. She slung an acoustic guitar, avoided direct eye contact, and told her assembled fans that “I used to dress up for y’all: I don’t do that anymore.” Oh la la la!
In May of this year, Ms Hill as she now insists on being called – walked, unaccompanied by publicists or assistants, two and a half hours late, into the Upper East Side Manhattan penthouse duplex that TRACE had rented for the cover shoot. Almost immediately, she asked our assembled production and editorial crew to leave the main room, where hundreds of samples of high end designer clothing, jewelry and accessories had been frantically curated to create the ultra-sophisticated new looks she had requested.
I had already interviewed her twice for this magazine, ten and seven years ago, in London and New York City. The last time we’d spoken was for a memorable December 1998 cover story she’d shared with D’Angelo. She was seven months pregnant with her second child, and on the day of the interview, she had found out that the newly released MISEDUCATION album was the best-selling record in America.
Nonetheless, this time around, when I greeted her upon her arrival for what would be her first magazine shoot and interview in years, she sent me off swiftly and said she didn’t remember me. (I had heard that she doesn’t even talk to the 18 musicians she has recruited for her band, that she only speaks to them when giving them orders, therefore I was not all that surprised by her new, distant demeanour.)
She then refused to let our makeup artist touch her face, and asked for a replacement to be sent over immediately. (Granted, the makeup artist she had requested was not available that day, but I had also heard that on the cover shoot for her upcoming album, which had taken place a few weeks earlier, the glam team had spoken of a nightmare experience, therefore our makeup episode was not entirely surprising either.) We sent our disappointed Japanese makeup artist home and called in a last minute favour. Our replacement – a fan – cancelled her plans for that afternoon, hopped on the subway and rushed in from the Bronx. (As we would discover on numerous occasions, the fans are out there, and they remain devoted to an idol they only know through their songs.)
When our photographer finally got to shoot the pictures that would appear in this portfolio, more than six hours after the TRACE team had arrived on set, Ms Hill asked for a mirror to be held to the left of the camera, so that she could approve her own reflected image, even before the photographer and his assistant were given a chance to frame each picture. The fact that one of our most esteemed fashion assistants would accept to hold a mirror next to a camera for a cover star was a first, as far as this team was concerned.
Our editorial staffers, all huge fans of L Boogie and Lauryn Hill, were starting to wonder who this Ms Hill really was, and why she was acting like a paranoid, egotistical diva. A series of intense, enlightening and, at times, baffling interviews would follow that initial false start. The interviews and conversations that fed this ten-chapter story were conducted over the two-week period that ended on Lauryn Hill’s 30 birthday, May 26th, 2005. I realised that Lauryn Hill was a young woman who refused to serve two masters. When everyone around her was telling her to chase the fame and fortune, she was looking to get closer to God. When she fell in love, she found out that dysfunctional people love dysfunctionally. Although our conversations revealed many traits of a tortured, stimulated, brilliant mind, they would provide some invaluable clues into the contradictions and machinations behind one of modern music’s true geniuses.
1. THE MISEDUCATION
Ms Hill gave the interview process a jump-start with a statement which seemed, at the time, to come out of nowhere: “When I was wearing tight, short clothes, when I was younger, it wasn’t to tempt men. It was the expression of art, and how we felt about the beauty of the body.” We came to realise that the image – her image – and its role – her role – within society were of real concern to her. She feels that one of the many problem with today’s society, comes from people’s adoption of popular styles, just because they want to be cool. The kind of people who wear the right Bob Marley or Che Guevara t-shirts, she feels, are always looking for what is cool, and that uniformity has killed most expressions of individuality.
“When I was picking my clothes,” she would later admit, “I didn’t think the world would come to see me as this Greek Goddess. I did it to be different, to set myself apart, because I enjoyed it. I had to create this unique collection of styles, that was absolutely my own, but after that I didn’t know how to feel about this absolute commercialisation of my identity.”
When, during the shoot, she gravitated towards an update on the classic Brigitte Bardot meets Jackie O look from the swinging sixties, albeit with a new, permed hairstyle that left behind the dreadlocks and natural hairdos she had made popular a decade earlier, it became clear that the new visual expressions of the Ms Hill personality could change with her moods. “People are afraid to embrace the world as themselves, of walking in this world as themselves,” she later said. “Society, which makes us emulate each other, has created this dynamic where we are all A’s and B’s, and not the whole of the alphabet, from A to Z. We need to embrace our individuality again, because it’s like generational abortion.” This idea of generational abortion would prove a major point in our various discussions because Ms Hill feels that the world has gone wrong, that this generation has gone wrong, that hip hop has gone wrong, and that she needs to “right wrongs,” an expression that came up several times during our conversations. In other words, it seems that this generation has been miseducated.
“I have to take a lot of credit for introducing taste and style to the world,” she told me, without the slightest hint of irony. “I think my contributions, and what I projected through my own identity, changed a lot of things. I remember wearing a skirt on stage, and that was illegal in hip hop. I introduced certain musical elements to hip hop that were not there before, and I used certain language that was deemed a little too articulate for hip hop, but at the time I wasn’t looking at it as a contribution. I was just being myself.”
That statement resonated loud and clear when I measured it against a telling anecdote, where the managing editor of this magazine told me when I was writing this story that Lauryn Hill was the main reason she herself had decided, a few years ago, as a teenager, to sport dreadlocks. “I wanted to be like her. She was my idol.”
2. THE EDUCATION
One day, on the phone, she said she wanted to talk about the contradictions in the UNPLUGGED album. “What I have learned in the past five years, is how the other half lives. I was trying to learn what normal was like, but then I realised that I was never normal. With the UNPLUGGED record, I was learning something. I had to understand that the truth that God spoke about in the Bible was the truth, and I almost went outside of myself to explain it to people.” That UNPLUGGED performance was just one performance, I told her. “But it was one crucial performance,” she interjected. “Even if it was an error, I spoke from the point of view of sincerity. Let’s take the whole notion of normalcy as an example. The fact that I considered myself normal was the problem on that record. I thought I was like other people, but then I found myself the object of envy, jealousy and resentment. And this was coming from the very people whose cause I was championing.
“Up to that point, there had been no real information on what had happened to the Fugees, or to me. There are a lot of people I could have exposed on that record, whose dark behaviour I could have exposed, but I didn’t and it cost me my freedom. On that record I was apologetic about certain things, and I wanted to show all of my flaws. First, the lyrics alone were ahead of their time. No one was writing like that at the time, but I was still a lot more articulate and well bred than I made manifest. Up to that point, there were certain rules in music and one had to stay in their box. I felt like I became a sacrificial lamb, because I was the first to come out of the box in that way.”
Come out of the box she certainly did, and many of the four million people who bought the UNPLUGGED album came out of the experience feeling unsatisfied. The guitar riffs were monotonous and repetitive. Even though they lyricism was groundbreaking in its proclaimed introspection, the record felt like one long lament on the world gone wrong. “I find it hard to say that everything is alright,” she sang, but in a year that would be forever defined by the traumatic 9/11 experience, no one wanted to hear songs with titles like “Adam Lives In Theory” and “Mr. Intentional”. Looking back, however, it must be noted that the UNPLUGGED record was influential in some ways, not least because Kanye West stole a hook from her “Mystery of Iniquity” and turned it into last year’s monster smash “All Falls Down.” Ms Hill feels that the situation with the “Mystery of Iniquity” (which contained the lyrics “You can’t handle the truth in a courtroom of lies”) is proof that Kanye West – though he may not publicly acknowledge this fact – might have been searching the web for some of the live music she was “just giving away at the time.” She says she was giving away “diamonds” – many of which ended up on the internet – because the studio experience had become claustrophobic.
For her comeback record, what people wanted was more of that emancipated MISEDUCATION sound, but in 2001, she was not yet ready to put out songs in the key of that previous life. “With THE MISEDUCATION I was overly gracious, to my detriment,” she says. “I thanked a lot of people on that record that I shouldn’t have.” She may – or may not – have been alluding to the musicians Johari Newton, Tejumold Newton, Vada Nobles and Rasheem Pugh, who sued her in 1998 – and later settled for an unspecified amount – claiming that they had produced 14 of the key songs on the MISEDUCATION album without receiving the credits and royalties they had been promised.
“There was a distortion of balance,” she added, “and I allowed people to take credit. Some people got too much, and some people got too little, like Johari, but at the time I was not aware of my impact on the earth. That was kept from me when I was with the Fugees, although when I was a child, I always had that effect on people. My father told me recently that when I was in high school, I wrote and recited like I was in college. My confidence was supernatural.”
3. The Love
After we left the Upper East Side apartment, we went to shoot the last picture in nearby Central Park. It was getting dark, but Ms. Hill had loosened up considerably. She became friendlier, and although she refused to shake hands (she refuses all physical contact with strangers, her general disposition was sunnier than it had been all afternoon. After we shot the last roll, I was invited over to her house for a proper face-to-face interview. On a Saturday evening, the ride from upper Manhattan to South Orange, New Jersey, takes more than hour, but we finally arrived at her four-bedroom house, a suburban outpost on a non-descript, tree-lined, residential lane. (She later told me that she purchased the large house for her mom when she first made money.) Two of her adorable boys jumped up and down in the living room, and greeted her with a loving embrace only a mother can receive when she comes home from work.
Edwin Marcelin is a friend and confidant of lauryn Hill’s. He also is a collaborator who has been shooting a very personal documentary on her life, tentatively titled, To Be Young, Gifted and Black. A black surfer type who had been working in the Stussy store when her met her in California in her Sister Act 2 days, they kept in touch after she went back to New Jersey and started studying at Columbia University. He had toured the world with her in the Fugees days, and now their relationship seemed to be based on mutual trust and admiration. Ms. Hill suggested that the three of us go to a local restaurant for dinner, and when we showed up at an Italian diner called Cafe Argula, we were informed that the kitchen was closed. I realized that, in some cases, there are no exceptions for celebrities. (Anyway, she would tell me, she thinks favors can pervert situations.) We sat at semi-private booth, ordered desert and the conversations turned to the topics of love, music and art.
“I grew up really appreciating Bob Marley’s music until I realized that I had certain gifts that he had not exercised,” she said. “I wasn’t utilizing all of myself. Many people are artists, not because they decide to artists. They stumble onto a talent, a favor from God, after He decided to anoint them, and give them a little more than others. But then they have to walk this fine line between being apologetic for their talent and being considered egotistical. The same thing people get celebrated for, that’s the same they get hated for. A true artist has to understand humility, and be aware of how the world treats its prophets. I always knew I was gifted. When I was a child, I was a little aware. I just loved. I was Love. I loved God. God was on my mind. With that consciousness, came the ability to solve problems, to do my best, to be perfect at everything, but I was aware that there were other forces that might resent me for those abilities.”
During a later conversation, she told me that the motivation for everything she has done is love. “I enjoyed the elation, and seeing the audience happy fulfilled, and being a star was a natural progression. You go from being very popular kid to being a very popular person, publicly. I was always extremely popular as a kid, but as a young woman I didn’t understand that dynamic. I made music out of love, and then I got a reaction, a big reaction, and it wasn’t healthy because I ended up pleasing other people who were dysfunctional and should not have merited this attention I was giving them. If there is one thing I tell my children, it is that they have to protect love. Our understanding of love has to grow, but first, you have to love yourself, and honesty is the very thing that protects love.”
4. The Hate
A few months ago, on a rainy New York weekend afternoon, I received a call from this magazine’s senior editor. She told me that the Fugees would be reuniting in Brooklyn for an impromptu performance related to the Dave Chappelle show. For some strange reason, I never made it to Fort Greene that day, but I know from the film director Michel Gondory, who filmed the performance, and from our editor, that the show was a milestone in its spontaneous combustion of the warmed-up fan base. That performance fed the rumor mills for months, with the sepcualtion of Fugees reunion saturating some corners of the hip hop blogosphere.
Two weeks before our cover shoot in May, a Fugees reunion of sorts was engineered at a tsunami benefit concert in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Although they were not scheduled to appear on stage at the same time, Lauryn met Pras and Wyclef once the beats from some of the songs from The Score were dropped into the amplifiers. She could hardly remember some of the lyrics from the old Fugees songs, so she searched the Internet for the rhymes and hopped on stage for an emotional performance that indicated that an imminent reunion was a real possibility.
At the Café Argula, the rhetoric contradicted these two recent episodes. “The Fugees was really something that I was a part of because the people that I was around at the time, it made them happy. Love is so powerful. The Fugees was supernatural love. That’s the kind of love that can scale mountains, and create paradigms and strange dynamics. It was a very special, and fragile love, but there is a bad pattern that can happen to people who are experiencing this vibrancy of life, and there are no warnings signs.
“What happens when you have a soul, and bare it on stage, in a world of manipulation? It does create conflict, a schism. There are some people who give themselves only partially because they know the business, and then there are some people who give themselves wholly and they get hurt. In order to bare one’s soul, one has to display their whole vulnerability, which most people will never do. Those people who bare their souls end up being the source of ridicule. I wonder if people see themselves as soul-barers. I don’t think people are made of steel; they are still flesh, and they get affected. Jesus himself experienced fear, sorrow and disappointment, but he had the greater good as his focus.”
Prior to meeting Wyclef and Pras, the only job she had ever had was at Foot Locker, where she worked for a year. Even then, she suspects that the only reason the owner of the store hired her was because he was looking to put an attractive black woman behind the counter, so that young black men would keep buying the really expensive sneakers they were into at the time. In any event, the Fugees drove her desire to create all the time. “When I first met the Fugees, I was impressed with Clef’s discipline with the instrumentation, “she would later tell me. “There were no black guys I knew who played the guitar like that. I saw a spark in Wyclef that was extremely attractive…at the time. I was his confidence, and I didn’t know what it was like to grow up with no money in Haiti.”
The fear, sorrow and disappointment that she talks about have been reported in the media many times. As she told me one afternoon, People want to know about my love life, because love is attractive. “It is no longer a secret that Lauryn Hill and Wyclef Jean were lovers during the time when the Fugees rose to become the biggest band in the world. Most fans speculate that the song “Lost One”- with the lyrics “It’s funny how money change a situation” and the chorus “You might win some but you just lost one”- was directed at the ex-lover who had betrayed her trust. There have also been rumors that Wyclef and some of the other people in her life took most of the proceeds off that blockbuster album. It has been reported that she has been stiffed, and that she should have made much more money off the phenomenal Fugees album sales and sold out world tours.
That is all water under the bridge, but Lauryn Hill is clearly a woman who has been hurt by the men in her life, and the Fugees experience is one she speaks about with much pain. (I attempted to contact Wyclef Jean, a TRACE magazine regular, on more than one occasion, through his publicist, to no avail. It has been said that generally does not talk publicly about fellow Fugees members.) Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and although she told me that she did not want to elaborate on that issue, one particular interview offered much insight.
“[With the Fugees], I took a lot of abuse that many people would not have taken in these circumstances. I cannot blame others, because I can see that a lot of relationships are analogous, but I didn’t realize what was going until it was too late. I had become used to improper dynamics, where people would transfer their hatred on someone else, thereby making a beautiful person ugly. I was young gifted and black in a world where you’re not supposed to know so much, and that brought out the hatred of others. I felt like Bob Marley in Trenchtown, a royal seed in the hood.
“Mozart said genius has less to do with love. There are people who can take three chords and make a masterpiece. As a young woman, I saw the best in everyone, but I did not see the lust and insecurities of men. I discovered what a lie was, and how lies manifested themselves. A friend of mine told me that a Bser cannot bull**** another Bser, and that they can only prey on honest people. Sometimes, people lie so much that they become lost. I liked people, and relationships, but now I know that the spirit of God is the most wonderful experience.”
It is safe to say that the Fugees experience was a rite of passage for Lauryn Hill. Although she got to experience fame and fortune as a 20-year old, the scars of visible, and although the world would see her as this hard woman of steel, she was always fragile. It remains unclear whether she will ever fully recover from that moment of weakness. Lauryn Hill got into business, not realizing that she was getting into business. To hear her tell the story, she did it out of love. But she was always conflicted.
“One day, when I realized what was going on, and how much I was being taken advantage of, someone told me that it was just business. I said, ‘It was?’ How could I accept that? How could I accept that what I was doing out of love was just business? It was like me looking my child in the eye, and saying to him, ‘Child, its just business. I gave so much of my life, but I didn’t see a lot of life reflected back.”
When Lauryn Hill was with the Fugees, there was a guy who had a crush on her, and one day he pulled her aside and said to her, “Every time I approach you, your crew gives me some negative energy. They intimidate me bad.” Lauryn told him he was crazy. They decided to do an experiment with her Fugees bandmates. Lo and behold, the bandmates rejected the guy as soon as he approached Lauryn. “The Fugees was conspiracy to control, to manipulate, and to encourage dependence. My own insecurities helped to seal it for a period of time. At the time, I was not allowed to say I was great; that was considered arrogance, conceit. I had to learn through violent, turbulent experiences.”
The trauma of the Fugees, and the subsequent meltdown-she calls it a “bursting of the glass”- from the Unplugged era could partially explain why she has withdrawn from the public eye and put a barrier between herself and the public, even members of her own entourage. “People felt that they were entitled to touch me, that they were entitled to a certain greeting. I literally had to reeducate people. You have to remember that I had been through a tumultuous relationship, a painful relationship, and I was still hurting, and I hadn’t healed. You will find that insecure women have a tendency to attract insecure men. My insecurities were awkward as Alek Wek’s insecurities would have been in 1956. I felt like I was that beautiful Sudanese woman who was being called ugly, just because they didn’t understand my beauty, with their inferior perspective.”