30 years ago today: Fugees released The Score – Revisit a classic Hot Press interview with Wyclef Jean

One of the ’90s best albums, The Score fused sharp lyricism, reggae, soul and boom-bap production into a sound both globally aware and radio-ready. Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, and Pras Michel redefined hip-hop’s boundaries with tracks like ‘Ready Or Not’ and their evergreen cover of ‘Killing Me Softly’.

Released in 1996, it expanded hip-hop’s mainstream presence without diluting its complexity, helping bridge underground credibility and global appeal.

Revisit a classic interview with Wyclef Jean – originally published in Hot Press in 2002:

When I meet Wyclef Jean in the Clarence Hotel, I immediately diagnose him as being in the early stages of PJF (Press Junket Fatigue). Having already completed a lengthy television interview, and with several more to come after Hot Press leaves, the singer slouches down in a chair across from me and evades my early questions with a series of perfunctory replies. Although he’s not unfriendly, you immediately get the impression that Wyclef Jean is a man who has sat through a few too many vacuous MTV question-and-answer sessions in his career.

In fairness, he’s had more practice at the media game than most. Since Fugees burst onto the scene in the mid-nineties with the The Score – which remains the biggest selling rap album of all time – Wyclef has steadily manoeuvred his way into the upper echelons of the entertainment industry with the steely determination of a Bono or a Jagger (both of whom, tellingly, he has collaborated with).

Indeed, one could argue that Wyclef’s political campaigning – he first met the U2 frontman through mutual involvement with the UN – and all-round extra-curricular activities (film scores, directing etc.), place him closer in the cultural firmament to old-school players like Quincy Jones than the clueless muppets who currently dominate the pop landscape.

“Quincy Jones is my bible,” he nods. “He comes from the Cab Calloway band, and in high-school I was a jazz major, and listening to Calloway and Thelonious Monk. But the streets was my passion, hip-hop and all that stuff. So I always said if I ever made it, I don’t wanna be doing just that music – I wanna be scoring movies, writing themes for plays, lots of different things. Because the industry that we’re in, it’s so much bigger than just doing the album and having it come number one on the Billboard chart. It’s more about doing a body of work, so that 50 years from now the work is still around even when you’re not.”

One of the most notable elements of Wyclef’s output to date is the sheer volume of collaborations, performing as he has remixing and producing duties for everyone from Santana to Destiny’s Child. Although our interview took place pre-the now infamous “baby dangling” incident, I mention Wyclef’s work with Michael Jackson. Did he find Jackson as unusual a character as he’s made out to be?

Wyclef pauses for several seconds. “I mean… he’s normal… like, if he comes in the room, he’s gonna talk, he’s gonna chill, he’s gonna crack jokes, and then you’ll probably think, 'I never knew Michael Jackson could be like that.' Because what’s painted in the outside world is so different. And working with him, it was cool, just really good fun. So, it’s kinda hard for me sometimes to recognise the guy who’s portrayed in the media.”

Post-Fugees, Wyclef’s releases have also included, of course, three solo albums. The latest, Masquerade, is a typically eclectic mix (some might say wildly so), veering as it does between berserk samples (Tom Jones, The Four Seasons), to passionate anti-war statements, to disses against the glamorisation of thug culture. What does Wyclef make of the current state of rap?

“Violence is something we all grew up with,” he reflects. “I grew up in the worst project, and it’s not even so much that people are glorifying violence, it’s more like, 'Alright, you used to carry a gun, you used to sell crack, but what’s that got to do with where we’re at right now?' So you have to tell the kids, 'I used to do this, but it’s not what I do anymore. I went on to do better things with my life.' And I guess music helped us, and helped a lot of other rappers out there to improve themselves. It’s one of the most powerful tools of all.”

Masquerade is dedicated to Wyclef’s father, a Haitian preacher who passed away last year. I quote Martin Amis’ comment that while losing a parent is an event you may eventually reach an equilibrium about, it’s something you don’t ever fully recover from. For the first time during our interview, Wyclef sits up in his chair.

“I don’t think it’s something you ever completely get over, if you was real tight with your parent,” he says. “My father was like my best friend. If the phone rang at six in the morning, it was him. And I’d be like, 'Yo man, what they hell are you doin’ calling me at six in the morning?!' [laughs] Then he passes away, and so it’s harder to ever forget that closeness. I think losing a parent is like losing your best friend, if that’s the kind of relationship you had.”

Wyclef also alludes to September 11 a couple of times on Masquerade. Although the arrival of arms inspectors in Iraq appears to have averted an American assault on the country for the time being, war remains a possibility. Wyclef is opposed to any American invasion, being painfully aware that his country’s battles usually aren’t fought by white-collar members of the GOP, but rather by an expendable underclass.

“Anything that involves innocent people dying, I’m just against,” he states. “If it was a fight between George Bush and Saddam Hussein in a boxing ring, that’s different. But they’re both in bomb shelters 24 feet under the ground, and they send out kids to kill each other, and that’s what determines who gets what. So I’m not for any form of war.”

A couple of albums back, Wyclef wrote a song about Amadou Diallo, a young black man shot dead by the NYPD. Does he feel those sort of incidents are on the decrease?

“There’s always battles to be fought, man. I mean, we heard about Diallo, but there’s so many we don’t hear about. We’ve got to put an end to violence. Period.”

Revisit The Score below: