No record has been more omnipresent in my life than The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. I’m not saying it was as big as Thriller. It’s just that I was 2 when it came out, so I didn’t experience the hysteria. However, I was a student at a black college with Lauryn dropped her record.
Here’s how everywhere it was–I knew just about every word on the record without ever having listened to my own copy. Didn’t remove the plastic from mine until 2000.
No need, man. The damn thing was in the air. Out of every dorm window. Out of every car. Just everywhere…until Aquemini came out.
Anyway, I was blown away the first time I heard it. Thought it was the best record I’d heard in years. But I honestly could say that the record got worse to me with each successive listen. It sounded so different, but I was starting to point out weaknesses much more easily. The masterpiece started sounding more like a helluva good job. That’s a feat, but not epically noteworthy.
So eight years after its release, I decided to check the record out agin. It was a really interesting experience.
Even when I talk this album down, I never disacknowledge that the great moments are absolutely spectacular. “Lost Ones” is incredible. “Doo Wop (That Thing)” is perfect in every way. “Nothing Even Matters” and “Ex-Factor” are also flawless. The cover of “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” is also absolutely incredible. “Forgive Them Father” slams, if for no other reason than the track and the writing. The rhyme on “Everything is Everything” is amazing, and “Every Ghetto, Every Street” is cute–in a good way–even if it’s a little too derivative of a Stevie track. I mean, the highs are high as GP.
But see, there’s a few other songs…
“To Zion,” no matter what people try to tell me, is boring. And don’t even get me started on how those guitar parts weren’t enough to justify employing Carlos Santana. That’s like getting Wolfgang Puck to make Pop Tarts (and the same can be said for Eddie Van Halen on “Beat It”). And it’s six minutes long? You gotta be kidding me.
“Superstar” is as tired as the cats she claims to have issues with. “Come on baby, light my fire/everything you drop is so tired/music is supposed to inspire/how come we ain’t gettin’ no higher?” Well, it doesn’t help us get higher when that’s the best encapsulation of your view that you can provide. “I Used to Love Him” doesn’t do it for me like that, either. Just kinda boring.
And there’s one more thing that can’t be ignored–Lauryn masqueraded as though she produced every song on the album, and that was later proven to be false (and addressed on Wyclef’s “Where Fugees At”). There’s a lot tied up in that situation that I can’t speak on because I don’t really understand it, but that was a sucka move.
But at the same time, there’s no denying that Lauryn had a serious level of input on the album. And therein lies the problem, if you ask me. It’s not that she’s incapable of doing great work without help. It’s that people frequently need someone else to say, “yo, that’s boring.” There appeared to be no one there to do that. You know damn well the label had no idea what to do with this album, but they were in no position to really tell her what to do after the success of the Fugees rather uncommercial sounding The Score.
This is the curse of self-production. If you don’t believe me, check out some of KRS-ONE’s albums from the late ’90s. No one was there to check him. For that matter, check a lot of Prince’s stuff. It’s important to have someone to bounce these things off of, someone that’ll tell you about your shit with little concern for how you feel about it. In my job, we have a name for those people–editors.
But this album is very, very good. It’s personal to the point where it can make you uncomfortable at points, but not like that Unplugged album. But is this the be all, end all album? Is it a 5-star classic?
It’s damn close. But it’s not. The lows are just too low for me.
Now, proceed to tell me what a moron I am. I know it’s coming.