In The Case Of Lauryn Hill, Many Things Can Be True At Once
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It must not be easy being Lauryn Hill. It can’t be.
At first glance, her set during the first of two Los Angeles stops on The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill’s 25th anniversary tour could be perceived as more proof of her inexorable lateness. But the show itself was not in vain.
With this tour, Hill seemed to have something to prove about how she shows up for her fans. Historically, her inability to perform the studio version of her debut solo album has caused many to rush to social media with complaints about her vocal ability and stage presence, but those attempts are to condemn Hill for crimes she’s already paid for.
Her alternative arrangements of Miseducation are Hill’s way of creating the best with what she has to offer. After being legally restrained due to lawsuits over accreditation and rumors of theft, she cannot perform her hits in the ways that are familiar to us. That coupled with instances of last-minute show cancellations—which she says were beyond her control—there’s no way it’s easy for her to tour; every time she does, she’s met with mixed reactions.
Writing a show review was initially uncertain, but as the night went on, there was an energy shift. A need to unpack what was transpiring had grown. Then, Hill put the writing on the wall herself with a six-minute mid-show monologue.
“Y’all lucky I make it on this blood-ras stage every night,” she emotionally exclaimed, loudly to the crowd. Out of context, those words could be perceived as arrogant, but they were part of a larger oration about community, support, and in some ways resilience.
Before her mother Valerie joined her onstage with her daughters Selah and Sara Marley, Hill expressed, “You have to understand who my mother is. My mother, man—without her, none of this would be possible because the reality of it is, is that not only did she give me life, but she raised me right. She gave me life and she raised me right. And that wasn’t an easy raising either, but she gave much, much love.”
The impassioned, impromptu interlude seemed like a required purge for Hill. A teary-eyed Valerie walked out as Hill spoke, causing her own waterworks to flow rapidly. The crowd erupted in praise and applause. She continued, “I’d be remiss if I didn’t salute my mother. My mother, my rock. My foundation. My stability. The woman who is consistently around. My mother raised my children. I raised my children [but] my mother raised my children. I had women in my house, strong women, and these women were the foundation on which I solidly supported myself and raised my children and poured music into the world. If any of you appreciated the music, then you owe it to this woman right here. People tell me from time to time, they say to me, ‘Hey, Ms. Hill, you know I listen to your music, your music got me through. Your music got me through, because my mother, you understand? My mother was the support that got me through. To help me get through.”
Hill explained how the sacrifice of her community fueled her, and that if it weren’t for them and God, she wouldn’t be able to perform at all. When it comes to the lack of support in making a second solo album, however, there are conflicting reports and narratives and this is an instance where both accountability and grace need to be warranted.
From Hill’s perspective onstage, “When the album sold any records and no one showed up and said, ‘Hey, would you like to make another one?’ So I went around the world and I played the same album over and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again!” Yet, an anonymous source told Rolling Stone in 2003, “I think Lauryn grew to despise who Lauryn Hill was […] Artists are a lot more calculating than the public sometimes knows … Lauryn put a lot of pressure on herself after all that success. And then one day she said, ‘F**k it.’” She was called “emotionally unstable” as she retreated from the public eye.
At the time, Hill found solace in a man named Brother Anthony who disguised himself behind the Christianity she clung to. Not only had she rejected her celebrity, she ostracized herself and burned bridges with the people who helped make Miseducation a masterpiece. When Hill took sole credit for Miseducation, many believed it was to prove that she didn’t need to rely on a man—i.e. Wyclef Jean or her ex-partner, Rohan Marley—to succeed. Questlove told Rolling Stone, “Her solo career wasn’t based on ‘I wanna do an album. It was based on not being Wyclef’s side girl.” But when you reportedly blow a $2 million recording budget and leave executives saying, “Columbia bent over backwards for her, in pure self-interest, and I think they still believe in her, but you can’t abuse the system like that,” there’s ample room for negative assumption.
Was Hill justified in discarding those who aided in her solo success? Maybe not. But she felt she was doing what was best for her healing at that moment—not in the grand scheme of things. Breaking away from The Fugees to affirm herself was clearly emotionally and mentally taxing. What was happening went beyond the music; she was Wyclef’s “muse” and lover. In his 2012 memoir, Purpose he blamed Hill for ruining the sanctity of their “love spell” after getting pregnant with her first child, Zion. She had to free herself from Wyclef romantically and creatively, all while in the public eye. There was no manual on how to do that, leaving her wholly humanized to figure it out at 23 with a baby at the height of her career. If not for the help of those who didn’t shun her, we wouldn’t have the Hill we see today— the one attempting to right her wrongs in ways that make sense to her.
Back in May, we called Hill’s closing headlining performance at Mary J. Blige’s Strength Of A Women Festival her penance. Was she late? Yes. Did that take away from the mesmeric outpouring of musical brilliance she left onstage? No, but this is what Hill’s legacy has been truncated to: antics that overshadow the music.
Despite recent vocal limitations, Hill’s breath control and agility were commendable for 2023. The orchestra, live band, generational inclusion of her son Josh and niece Zuri were all heartwarming. Plus a performance by The Fugees—all three, in rare form—was a once-in-a-lifetime experience amid Pras facing federal prison.
Fans were lucky to bear witness to history, and Hill’s fans still believe they’re owed an apology for her shortcomings. Both things can be true.
As Hill herself stated: “It could all be so simple, but you’d rather make it hard.” Because of the show and artist’s magnitude, we can’t attest to losing money over postponement but we can’t excuse what’s happened without constructive criticism either. Lauryn Hill can be both a genius and the enemy; a lover and a zealot; the greatest of all time and a one-album wonder.
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