Many of the things I was into in 1996 are, at best, embarrassing.
Lumberjack shirts. The Hartford Whalers. Having hair that’s long, but shaved underneath. The movie “Twister”.
But one of my mid-nineties obsessions has enjoyed far better staying power than small-market hockey teams or Bill Paxton’s acting: The Score by The Fugees. This year, with the 20th anniversary of its release, I’ve been reading lots of retrospective pieces discussing The Fugees’ place in hip-hop history. And I’ve been re-listening. A lot.
I simply cannot get enough of this album. It does just about everything right. To name just a few things I love about it:
- It samples from a wide range of sources, but still sounds cohesive.
- It’s rhythmically interesting. Listen to the three-against-four of songs like Zealots or Family Business.
- There are zero lyrics that demean women.
- There are three Canadian references. (Ontario, Jim Carrey, Corey Hart.)
- It plays to each member’s strengths: Lauryn Hill gets to sing, Wyclef gets to play live instruments, and Pras gets half as many bars as everyone else.
- As much as it’s a hip-hop record, it’s got elements of pop, soul, and reggae.
That last point might be the reason that I wasn’t the only one listening to The Score in 1996. This album was absolutely everywhere. It crossed all borders and drew in all demographics. In one person’s house, it could be sitting on the shelf next to Celine Dion, while in another house it could be next to Tupac. (Incidentally, Tupac’s All Eyez On Me, the last album he put out before his murder, was released on the same day as The Score.)
After winning Grammys, selling millions of copies, and launching solo careers of varying degrees of success, The Score would prove to be their last work. Two decades later, I enjoy it just as much as I did when I was a lumberjack shirt-wearing, Hartford Whalers-loving, awful haircut-having teenager.
What makes this a beautiful song:
1. Lauryn Hill. She was the biggest part of what made this group both musical and marketable. I already mentioned her singing voice, but her raps are better than her two male counterparts. Sadly, it was the tumultuous relationship between Hill and Wyclef that eventually broke up the group. According to Pras, she was in tears after recording the chorus for this song.
2. The main sample. Haunting and beautiful, it’s the Enya sample that made me love this song originally. What kind of hip-hop producer goes through an Enya record looking for samples? Genius.
3. All three members put up good verses here. There are better verses elsewhere on the album, but these ones are solid, with tangential references to Elliot Ness, Nina Simone, Cassius Clay, and grandfather-to-Lauryn’s-eventual-kids Bob Marley.
Recommended listening activity:
Rapping along nerdily and enthusiastically in the privacy of your own home.