The Score - The Fugees, 1996

As I continue to reflect on the past year, I love to remember great concerts.  I had the great privilege of seeing the magnificent Ms. Hill at the Commodore – it may no longer have bouncy floors, but it’s still my favorite Vancouver venue - last spring.  The best surprise of the night – after discovering it was her birthday and having the crowd burst into song for her – was L. Boogie’s presentation of material from The Score.  She did a total of 5 songs from the album and owned everything.  Regardless of whether verses were originally spat by Wyclef or Pras, she would authoritatively rap every bit of the song at nearly double speed.  The songs lost some of their groove this way – the familiar rap felt a little less melodic than I was used to - and yet it had a new kind of forceful power. 

Anyway, this is not a concert blog, but seeing Lauryn Hill in 2011 brought her work with Fugees back into my regular playlists over the past several months, and most recently I even made The Score my alarm CD to wake up to.  At Lauryn's show, I was reminded not only how deeply Miseducation shaped and spoke to my adolescent self, but how her role in the Fugees introduced me a world of socially conscious rap.  Not that I would have called it that in Jr. High, but even in 1996 I could tell The Score was different than Snoop’s Doggy Style.   

Suprisingly, it was never Lauryn alone that made The Fugees attractive to a 13 year old white girl from the burbs.  Wyclef Jean allows his sense of humor shine through even the most serious verse, giving a sense of playfulness in “Fu-Gee-La” especially.  Pras sounds like a man with a lot of anger, but is too stoned to do anything about it.  Together they made a loveable trio, who though clearly intelligent, never lost their ability to have a good time.  When I bought the album, I had only heard the two radio-played covers: “Killing Me Softly” and “No Woman No Cry”.  Although hearing Ms. Hill sing the Roberta Flack tune would alter whatever actions I had been in the middle of, it was Wyclef’s guitar and vocals on the Bob Marley cover that drew the money out of my pocket. 

At the time, I didn’t know much about these refugees (other than having loved Lauryn Hill's performance in Sister Act II), but soon the first half of the album would open up my understanding of what music could be.  “How Many Mics”, “Ready Or Not”, and “Zealots” quickly became my favorite 13ish minutes.  To this day, I love how the three MCs share the songs; No one gets more mic time than anyone else, even though there are admittedly “too many MC’s, not enough mics”.  References are thick and plenty, whether it’s to Marcus Garvey or Corey Hart, and rhymes are effortlessly smooth.  Choruses are crooned, and I momentarily forget that this isn’t a classic R&B album.  Momentarily until “Ready or Not” reminds us, which is home to my favorite Lauryn line ever: “So while you imitating Al Capone, I’ll be Nina Simone and defecating on your microphone.”  Ok, one of my favorites.  She’s got a lot (oh yeah).  ;)

It took me some time to appreciate “The Beast”, even though I loved to imitate the beastly-noises that Wyclef makes.  I don't think, at the time, that I picked up on the comic-feel of this song, even though it's constantly referencing super heroes and sci-fi characters. Now when I listen to this frustration rant against greed and corruption in government and policing.
  

Like Miseducation, most songs on The Score are punctuated by spoken scenes emphasizing the down-to-earth style of the Fugees.  "The Beast" is followed by possibly the oddest and funniest sketch, set in a Chinese restaurant that is "like burger king, have it your way".  

At a younger age, both “The Mask” and “Cowboys” always felt awkward to me.  “The Mask” is one of my favorites now because it is positively brilliant, showing off the Fugees ability to use extended metaphor.  Cowboys is also an example of this, although lacking in groove. “Cowboys” allows the three MCs to have some fun with the plethora of Western clichés and cowboy media references.  It’s a bringing together of Reggae and Country in a way that I can stomach, and on top of it, critiquing drug culture.  Fave line: “F*** the Sheriff, I shot John Wayne”.   LOVE it. 

Fu-Gee-Las (the original and the three remixes provided) never get old to me.  Sometimes I'll plan to skip one of the versions, but it’s hard – they’re each unique enough to require a listen.  Actually, I take that back.  Now that I’m listening through it all again, I know the Sly & Robbie mix the least.  I think I would tend to listen to the first Refugee Camp Remix and than skip ahead to “Mista Mista”, which is eerily beautiful.  When I was younger I thought it was a joke – every time Wyclef answers himself with “Hell No Mutha*****”, it would tickle my funnybone.  Now I hear it as a musical conversation that can be seen on a regular basis in my neighborhood, and the questions so many of us in any city have to ask ourselves: when do we help those we see in need, and what is helping?  Money?  Food?  A fix to forget? 

Finally, they end on a happy note, with the last Fu-Gee-La remix.  It's possible that 4 versions of the same song on a full length album is overkill, but at least it's a good, catchy song.  Or maybe we should just consider ourselves lucky that in The Score you received both an LP and a single.  Either way, it's not worth a complaint.  If you're not sick of it yet, you should probably watch this video.

Earlier I mentioned that all 3 Fugees share the microphone well.  Still, I can’t help but notice that Ms. Hill is already hitting the hardest.  And she gets away with some of the best words.  I mean, Poli-trick-cians?  And rhyming galaxy with phalaxy?  Awesome, right?  She is a phenomenon, and high on my list of hopes for 2012/beyond is a full comeback for this talented woman we grew to love, respect, and groove to.  Until then, I'll keep returning to The Score, far more than other rap albums from the mid-90's, most of which was about hating on MC peers, at the height of the East-West tensions (Tupac died later that year).  While the majority of the rap world was focused on destruction and self-promotion, The Fugees attempted to spit some positivity and call out the larger systems to blame, rather than simply slamming their own competition. And when they did address their peers in rap, they called them to maturity instead of violence.  Sounds like something worth listening to, both now and then.    

The Video Stars: High School Music Videos

Ok fine, this is probably my most debatable category in this series.  Like in the world of High School movies many are duds but a few gems keep the genre alive, and as far as I'm concerned, that's enough for a top 10 list.  And oh look, here's one now!

10.  Whip My Hair - Willow, 2010.  Directed by Ray Kay.

This one surprised me slightly, but in the end it made the cut, simply for being cute and kid-friendly without making my lip curl like say, Lil' Mama did.  Willow has the attitude and spark of her mother, and the charisma and ears of her daddy - how could you not love that?  The colours and hair are fabulous in this vid, and quite simply, it makes me want to crump.

9.  Make Em Say Uhh! - Master P, 1997.  Directed by ???

Yeah, I can't find the director.  Maybe he's not proud of his work, or maybe this video isn't what most people online have ever talked about.  But it's actually great, if only because something entitled "Make em say Uhh" is set in a high school gymnasium, and is actually all about basketball...  How refreshing!  Is this just nostalgic for me?  I apologize if that's the case.

8.  1979 - Smashing Pumpkins, 1996.  Directed by Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris.

This video will make you nostalgic for 1979 regardless of whether you remember it, or had even been born by then.  It may not be set in a high school, but it's clearly portraying a typically ideal teen life that is both culturally specific and transcendent. And it helps that the song is so perfect for this.

7.  Opposite of Adults - Chiddy Bang, 2010.  Directed by Waverly.

The bobble head is such a simple idea, but I can't take my eyes off this video in a similar way to when I watch the one with the dog heads. 

6.  Hot for Teacher - Van Halen, 1984.  Directed by Pete Angelus and David Lee Roth.

What High School was like in the 80s, or at least how David Lee Roth would have liked it to be.  I wonder what the world would have been like if John Hughes (director of all those brat pack movies) had directed music videos...

5.  Popular - Nada Surf, 1996.  Directed by Jesse Peretz.

The band playing in the football field has been done a lot, but I think this is the best example of it.  I love how the song is being said/sung by Matthew from Nada Surf as a lesson about popularity, and I love how the band looks like greasy college students.  This one-hit-wonder probably wouldn't have even been that if it weren't for this appropriate, well stylized and memorable video. 

4.  ...Baby, One More Time - Britney Spears, 1998.  Directed by Nigel Dick.

Whatever we may think of Britney or this song, we simply can't deny the influence of this video.  What it does, it does well, and most of us will forever picture the Britney of this video when we hear her name or voice.  Videos will be trying to copy this for decades to come.

3.  Gossip Folks - Missy Elliott featuring Ludacris and Ms. Jade, 2003.  Directed by Dave Meyers.

I simply could not put this video below Britney.  At times it looks like an Adidas commercial, but that's Missy... and that's High School too.  The colours are fantastic and the choreography is even more so.  Out of every school shown in this list, this is the one I would like to attend the most. 

2.  Jeremy - Pearl Jam, 1992.  Directed by Mark Pellington.

A haunting video that boldly and tactfully wrestles with bullying and suicide.  The video jumps between contrasting images whether moving or still, or light or dark, and is meant to feel a little like a collage on film.  Stunning and creepy in the right way.

1.  Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana, 1991.  Directed by Samuel Bayer.


Basically the opposite of the pep rally in Master P's video, and the antithesis to Britney Spear's Hit Me high school.  It gave voice not only to the grunge movement, but to unhappy high school haters everywhere.  This was a band that saw through the plastic of popularity, and was ready to make some noise.  The video itself is raw and eerie, and is so mentally linked with the song that it's hard to think of one without the other, which is pretty much the definition of the role of a good music video.  For a band that couldn't care less about conformity, they certaintly used the tools of the mainstream well.


I should briefly note why The Ramone's Rock and Roll High School isn't on this list.  For one, it's because the movie is a movie, not a music video.  And secondly, the music video is mostly clips from the movie.  A lot of videos do that, but I don't think it makes for a good video as it relies more on the nostalgia of the film than it does on presenting a story or concept itself.  So there's my rationalization.  Hope you have fun watching the rest of these! 

Lauryn Hill: The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, 1998

I know, you thought I had completely given up on this venture. Well, so had I. Not intentionally. I can't exactly blame business for my lack of writing, because the truth is, I wrote the most when I had the most school work to do, and since graduating I haven't had nearly the deadlines! Perhaps I've been at least partially word-paralyzed by the immensity of the album that has for months now been my next listening project: The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill.

Miseducation is an album that I never need a reason to play. In 1998 it rightly swept the Grammies, and gave a ridiculous know-it-all teenager a strong down-to-earth and talented female role-model. Although I hadn't experienced half of the life Lauryn sings about (love, motherhood...) I felt as though she was singing words from my own soul. Maybe she was just showing me where my English-raised soul was located. Either way, it was an experience of something much deeper than cool sounds.

So I will try my best not to wax sentimental here. Without the nostalgia, which I do realize can be terribly powerful, there is plenty to appreciate. Let's start with the cover art. We find ourselves looking down on a sloped wooden desk, like many times before, oblivious to the lesson spouting at us, tracing with our finger the outlines scratched by earlier students, and wondering who sat here before us. It's clear what we have in our hands is a story of a student who has become the teacher. As soon as the record begins our interest is peaked even further when we realize that our protagonist is missing from the roll call... and my mind's camera seems to pan out and zoom to the real location of Lauryn.

And this is when I tend to wake up. Whenever The Lost Ones kicks in as my alarm, Lauryn spits words at me with a beat that makes it very hard to remain horizontal. Her words are harsh and motivating with a "wake up and pay attention" feel, as she calls her listeners on every mistake of pride and hypocrisy. We're getting ready for a lesson. And it's clear once we're back to the classroom that the topic of the day is love. The entire album moves between two educational settings: the classroom and wherever Lauryn is, and it seems to frame the record as a lesson or at least discussion on the definition of love.  

Yet Lauryn's first love song of the album is not what we might expect from such a lesson! Instead of being about a beautiful man or incredible sex, it's about choosing to keep her child, Zion, and finds her focus on spirituality, complete with a backing gospel choir and the prayer-like solos of Carlos Santana. Meanwhile back in class the kids are talking about what it's like to be in love.

Superstar and Final Hour have always felt like a pair to me and even though they have entirely different feels, they are connected by their concern with being real, calling artists away from selling out with choruses like, "Music is supposed to inspire," and "You can get the money, you can get the power, but keep your eyes on the final hour". She draws attention away from celebrity to personal integrity ("I'm about to change the focus from the richest to the brokest") warning us all to "watch out what you cling to".

When It Hurts So Bad begins to sound a little more familiar as an R&B ballad of unrequited love, and has never gripped me like the rest of the album, along with I Used To which I barely noticed. More than that, its seeming fickleness bugged me: She used to love him but now she doesn't? What's that about? Yet I was forced to pay more attention this time considering not only Lauryn, but Mary J. is also belting out the lesson. The song is really about a unhealthy relationship (abusive?) that is suffocating these strong, beautiful women. I wonder if we are meant to experience the juxtaposition of the fickle sounding background hook and the verses that reveal a true salvation song - much like an outsider might react to a breakup, without knowing the whole story.

Forgive Them Father may sound a bit preachy, but it also proves to me that no one can rap biblical references like Lauryn can. Is she a prophet? It could explain the crazy she now finds herself in.

I have only at this point listened to half of the album and still there is plenty left to say! Nothing Even Matters reigns as the most stereotypical love song on the album, completed by dueting Lauryn with D'Angelo who you do not even need to look at to be physically attracted to (although looking wouldn't hurt). Still, organs add a really unique texture to the track, and the finger snaps are as groovy as finger snaps have ever been.

From here on out, we are deep in love, metaphorically and literally. With Lauryn herself. Ex-Factor is a true-to-life reflection on the complications of love and breaking up, where the singer flits between being the one trying to let go to the relationship, and the one desperately hanging on.

Doo Wop was easily the biggest deal from this album. Everyone remembers this song, and everyone should remember the music video. This track is the perfect example of how great Lauryn is at everything she does: we have layers of perfect old-school soul-filled harmonies, exciting energy, and the heaviest fattest rhymes proving that "female rapper" is no oxymoron, all the while spitting a lyrical truth that though we might call it love, some guys/girls are only about that thing.

The retro feel of Doo Wop (That Thing) launches us into the nostalgic track Every Ghetto, Every City, full of references of early hip hop years that give me the imagination that it's where I'm from, even though I'm a white girl from a suburb called New Westminster.

Everything is Everything at the moment does nothing but remind me of Mia Michaels on So You Think You Can Dance. Everything she loves is "everything". Every instrument on this track hits hard, like Lauryn's rhymes, which give a contrasting background to her smooth vocals on the verses and choruses. Ms. Hill  reminds us that change is always around the corner, so we need to take advantage of what we're given in the time being to make that change a good one. Or maybe, slightly more far-fetched, that regardless of how "schooled" we think we are, we always have the chance to be educated by life. Yep, that was far-fetched. Sorry.

The album concludes (but doesn't finish) with the title track, that's given a vinyl record quality, and I'm forced to imagine what it would be like to have this album on vinyl for real. The organ and keyboard are superfluous and kind of sound like church. Well, what I imagine a black church to sound like. A combination of a black church and my dad. Ok, I'm taking on a bit of Lauryn's crazy now...

Finally The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill wraps up with two bonus tracks: You're Just Too Good to be True, and Tell Him. I think they're bonus because we're not really meant to hear them as a part of the story (whatever that may have been for you), but they're applicable and appropriate. I love these tracks, but I'm going to end this here. I feel as though I've made up for months of missed writing, and these songs are primarily meant to be enjoyed and not talked about.

Peace out,
Danice