If you’ve been waiting on a new album from Ms. Lauryn Hill, you shouldn’t. Not unless you have deeply studied and appreciated Unplugged.
We continue to celebrate “Miseducation” as if it were her only “real” album. We’ve trashed “Unplugged” and Ms. Lauryn Hill’s eccentricities since the release of her sophomore “album”. The one thing we haven’t done, though, is properly and thoroughly appreciate the genius inside this woman and the profound depths of the work she has already given us.
The Prophetic Nature of Unplugged
“Unplugged” is prophetic. And the prophecies are only clearer now in 2020 as the world seems to be crumbling all around us. It doesn’t mean these words were any less true eighteen years ago than they are today.
People who deal in the Spiritual can tell easily that this is a message from God. She says, “God knows how to communicate to the hearts of men. And God doesn’t lie. So He will communicate to each person that which they need to hear at that time.” This spiritual aspect of Hill’s work is often overlooked, but it’s central to understanding “Unplugged”.
A Personal Connection
I still remember the stretch of North Miami roadway I was on when I first heard “Unplugged”. I was 21 and sailing through a rollercoaster romance that was equal parts emotional terror and spiritual bliss. My Jamaican boyfriend and our seven roommates could not be bothered to swim into the oceanic depths of this album with me, so I consumed it in passing in my girlfriend’s car or alone on the boombox in my room.
My politicization was just beginning, but I had definitely gone off the deep end, breaking away from my parents’ – and town’s – expectations of me by working in a Jamaican restaurant, and at Macy’s, with my Computer Science degree. I was desperately trying to find my way but didn’t have a clue where I was, where I was going, nor where my journey would lead.
I loved every minute of the album, but the songs that I craved in my silent time were “Freedom Time” and “I Get Out”. Her voice didn’t matter to me because the message she was sharing was so incredibly powerful. And the combination of guitar and her raw voice was so liberating and meditative I couldn’t have cared less if she hit the notes or not. It simply worked.
Misunderstood Genius
When “Unplugged” was released in 2002, it was met with harsh criticism. Robert Christgau, writing for The Village Voice, went so far as to call it “one of the worst albums ever released by an artist of substance”. But such criticism misses the point entirely. What these critics saw as flaws – the raw vocals, the simple guitar, the verbose lyrics – are precisely what make this album a masterpiece of vulnerability and truth.
I consider it an utter travesty that the majority of publications and essays on “Unplugged” are by white men and women trashing it. I find it abhorrent that more Black journalists and music writers haven’t come to her defense and spent the time analyzing this album that it deserves. From my minimal surveying, it’s clear that many Black women found this album to be absolutely earth-moving. I am one such devotee.
The Messy Reality of Genius
Our reaction to “Unplugged” and to Hill’s subsequent career reveals more about us than it does about her. We demand perfection from our geniuses, forgetting that true genius is often messy, complicated, and difficult. We worship stars because they allow us to escape our own painful realities. When a star like Hill becomes too real, too raw, we often recoil, demanding they return to a more palatable, perfect version of themselves.
I’ll put my disclaimer here. I’m not saying you’re wrong to be frustrated about tardiness to concerts and tax issues and voice changes. But I think this is one of those times when a genius is among us and we take them for granted because they’re still alive and they’re imperfect. No one, I repeat no one, has ever come close to the glory of Lauryn Hill’s voice – and by this I don’t mean perfect pitch, etc., I mean what she’s saying.
A Call for Deeper Study
Instead of asking Lauryn Hill for a new album, we should spend more time with the work she’s already given us. “Unplugged” deserves courses, deep analysis, and thoughtful appreciation. It’s time we recognize it for the genius it contains and appreciate Lauryn Hill not just for the polished perfection of “Miseducation”, but for the raw, unfiltered truth of “Unplugged”.
We need to recognize and appreciate the God-led and prophetic nature of this album. We shouldn’t ask for another album from Ms. Hill until we’ve studied “Unplugged”. Instead, let’s dig deeper into the doctrine she’s already provided for us all.
In a world that increasingly values authenticity, perhaps we’re finally ready to hear what Lauryn Hill was telling us all along. It’s time to listen again, with open ears and open hearts, to the prophet in our midst. We should be worshipping Lauryn Hill instead of dragging her. Genius is messy, and it’s time we embraced that messiness and the profound truths it can reveal.
