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The Guardian
08-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Ready or not, here she comes: Lauryn Hill's 20 best songs – ranked!
The closest their debut album Blunted on Reality came to a crossover hit, Nappy Heads is almost unrecognisable as the work of Fugees, who went on to sell millions of records. But it's an of-its-era joy nonetheless, with a boom-bap rhythm and horns sampled from jazzy 70s funk. More people should know Social Drugs – driven by acoustic guitar, it's what a studio album along the lines of Hill's MTV Unplugged performance might have sounded like. The fact that they don't is because she only released it on her website: for $15, fans could play the track three times only. To say Hill's attitude to releasing new material has been scattershot since the early 00s is an understatement: Black Rage, which reworks The Sound of Music classic My Favourite Things into an anguished response to the police shooting of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri, originally slipped out on the internet during a tour with Nas in 2012 before being released online in 2014. Now only available on YouTube, it's spare and fantastic. Often overlooked among The Score's plethora of hit singles, Zealots works on every level: its use of a sample from the Flamingos' doo-wop version of I Only Have Eyes For You is inspired, every verse is on point, and the moment Hill announces her arrival with a bold burst of singing is a thing of swaggering magnificence. The first sign that The Score was a quantum leap from Fugees' debut, Fu-Gee-La's beat was intended for Fat Joe before Wyclef Jean began rapping over it during studio downtime. The track's hard yet humid sound – making full use of what Rolling Stone called the 'sweet heat' of Hill's vocals – went on to define the album. Nostalgic light relief amid The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill's sagas of heartbreak and betrayal: the delightful Every Ghetto, Every City sets Hill's retelling of her childhood in New Jersey to a breezy clavinet-driven backing that sounds as if it could have fallen off one of Stevie Wonder's early 70s albums, but never feels like retro pastiche. A slow seller on release, lost among a glut of conscious rap, the album Blunted on Reality remains overlooked. If you want evidence that Fugees had something really special in Hill, check out Some Seek Stardom: it's more hyperactive than her familiar style, but her performance here is still wildly impressive. The original, on Blunted on Reality, is fine stuff, but the heavier beat of the remix foregrounds Hill's contributions to startling effect. Her opening verse, delivered in a flow audibly influenced by Jamaican reggae DJs, is a masterpiece of dextrous conscious rapping. Hill's MTV Unplugged album met with a mixed response on release, but its reputation has grown with time, particularly the nine-minute confessional I Gotta Find Peace of Mind: it's been sampled by A$AP Rocky, claimed as a pivotal influence by Doechii and Jorja Smith and even analysed by theologians. Ostensibly by the loose collective of which Fugees were a part, there's no doubt who the star of the show is: moreover, The Sweetest Thing's lovely melody and acoustic guitar-led arrangement signposted the direction of Hill's solo debut. If you want something less laid-back, Salaam Remi's funk-sample-driven remix is great too. Fugees' final hit – from the soundtrack of the 1996 Muhammad Ali documentary When We Were Kings – feels forgotten nearly 30 years on, which is a shame. The backing extracts some brooding menace from Abba's The Name of the Game, while Hill's contributions leave you in no doubt about which member's solo career was going to soar. The jewel of Hill's MTV Unplugged performance, a ferocious spoken word/rap hybrid dealing with systemic racism that gained further attention when Kanye West attempted to sample the brief sung chorus on his massive-selling All Falls Down: Hill refused permission, so West had it re-recorded – to striking effect – by Syleena Johnson. Featuring a young and then-unknown John Legend on piano, Everything is Everything's irresistible string sample makes its lyrics about social injustice feel weirdly optimistic. The chorus is a killer, but don't overlook her rapping, which is smart and multilayered, the sound of Ms Hill going in hard. A guest appearance that has a genuinely transformative effect: between Hill's vocal, a snappy rap and a remix that strips the original – from 1977's Exodus – of all its instrumentation and shifts the rhythm towards hip-hop, it feels infinitely more like her work than that of Bob Marley. It's also gorgeous. Their straight cover of the old Roberta Flack track was the huge hit, but this remix – actually their first pass at the song – is the one to hear. Only the hook remains (with altered lyrics), with the rest given over to spectacular rap verses: less commercial, far more powerful. Lost Ones' all-out verbal assault on Hill's former bandmate and lover Wyclef Jean is all the more stinging because, for all its biblical imprecations, it never feels angry, just coldly contemptuous. It's the sound of a woman who's understandably aware that the music she's now making is so great, it's going to ensure she comes out on top. Yes, the interpolation from the Delfonics' soft-soul classic is a killer hook – and it's doubtless what made it a UK No 1 – but the real meat of Ready or Not is in the rhymes, most particularly Hill's braggadocious verse: 'While you imitating Al Capone / I'll be Nina Simone / and defecating on your microphone.' To Zion features a vocal so powerful and captivating that it completely overshadows guest Carlos Santana's elaborate guitar playing. It's the story of Hill's first pregnancy told in impassioned, authentically moving style: she dismissed advice to have an abortion from those worried about the impact it would have on her career. Subsequently sampled by Cardi B and Drake, and covered by Beyoncé, Ex-Factor uses lush and classy soul in the service of Miseducation's emotional nadir: a potent, heart-rending depiction of a toxic relationship that keeps flaring into life despite her best intentions. Its guitar solo-strafed climax is particularly magnificent. Over the last 20 years, Lauryn Hill's fans have endured a lot: tours cancelled without refunds, gigs that start hours late. That they keep the faith regardless is down to the fact she can still bring it – and to the sheer quality of her debut solo album. Its crowning glory, the party-starting but lyrically wary Doo-Wop (That Thing), is the sound of a woman who could apparently do it all – rap, sing, produce and write songs deeply rooted in Black music history that still sounded fresh and new, that made you dance and made you think at the same time. And, who knows? She may yet do it all again.
Daily Maverick
06-05-2025
- General
- Daily Maverick
Sadly, the will to live – and live well – isn't always ours to choose
Life expectancy in any given country says a lot about how its society values, supports and nurtures its people. Before you were born, you were dead – no one we can imagine wasn't void of feeling, of thought, of senses, existing only in a state of nothingness, inside a silent void. After death, we're all headed to that same insensate, unconscious destination of non-being, properly referred to as inexistence. I think this is reason enough to make the most of the short time – a little more than half a century for most of us – that we get to spend on this planet as cognisant, conscious beings. But certain groups of our species, guided by religious belief and hoped-for after-life destinations, may hold back and decide to live guardedly, as they await a paradise they're taught is just beyond the grave. Whether this gives them comfort or not, it is their absolute right. But for those who acknowledge that this might be a one-off stab at living, there's an urgency to live the half-century we've got fully: to love, dance, fall, then get up; for this is, much more than just living, a unique experience. As Samuel Beckett advised us: 'Ever tried? Ever failed? No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.' We get one shot at being alive. But time doesn't always let us choose how or how long we live. Circumstance, chance, suffering often get in the way. The body or the mind sometimes fails us. Disease intrudes. Yet even within those constraints we must strive to remain sentient – noticing sunlight through tree leaves, reacting to laughter or the wild beating of a lover's heart. As one streetwise aphorism puts it: 'Life's a bitch, and then you die.' Its origin is hazy, but the line found a place in Nas's 1994 classic, Illmatic. Looking at life expectancy worldwide tells us a lot about how we live and sustain ourselves in different countries. According to Wikipedia's longevity chart by country, Hong Kong tops the list at 86 years. Japan follows at 85. France ranks 12th at 83, while the US lags, at number 55, with just 79 years. South Africa is at 66 years and Lesotho trails near the bottom at 57 years. Healthcare is a key driver of these numbers: the poorer the system, the shorter the lives. But that's not the only factor: diet, physical activity, education, environment, political stability and social support all play vital roles. Which raises the question why the US – often called the richest country in the world – is far behind other high-income nations in life expectancy. Even with gun violence set aside, there are serious systemic flaws in the US, which spends more per capita on healthcare than any other country, yet its system is among the least efficient. It's largely privatised, expensive and befuddling. Millions are uninsured or underinsured, forced to delay or forgo essential care. Preventive medicine is often overshadowed by costly, treatment-heavy approaches. Chronic health issues such as obesity, diabetes and heart disease are rampant, driven by ultra-processed foods and sedentary lifestyles. The US also falls behind in social protections: minimal maternity leave, costly childcare, inadequate housing and limited education support. In these fields, Europe is quite ahead, offering stronger foundations for long-term health. These disparities point to a broader need for systemic change. Addressing public health crises requires not only better access to nutritious food and more active living, but also comprehensive social policies that support families to reduce stress and promote equity. The US model, with its emphasis on individual responsibility, could benefit from integrating some of the social safety nets found in European systems. Ultimately, a healthier population begins with policies that prioritise wellbeing in all stages of life. In the end, life expectancy is more than just a number – it reflects how a society values and supports its people, especially its most vulnerable. We do not get forever – no one does. For many, there isn't even fair, let alone far. Yet there's enough money to go around, if only it wasn't being hogged by the top 1% (in most countries). Low-income countries like Lesotho can't even boast a functioning health system. Sickness prevails and often inspires the poet: ' When I wake, this is what I tell myself: / I belong to this, to all the ghosts present / in the DNA. Diabetes, / an ancient Greek consort, sweeps through the halls // of my body.' (From the poem Type 2 by Sjohnna McCray.) We are programmed to die. Sorry to burst your bubble. The clock is ticking and there are no exceptions, not in the plant and animal kingdoms. Those who practise community-inspired humanity inherit from their forebears the capacity to be altruistic. Those who practise humanity that's based on religious dogma often cherry-pick the naturally meaningful bits and discard the mindless smiting and lapidation often mentioned as punishment for adultery, homosexuality, disobedience and so on. They, too, do know right from wrong without needing dogma. We have come this far as a species in large part because of selflessness and generosity. They're wired into us. One could argue that greed isn't. Greed is a short circuit in the system. The day we realise that no one has to go without medical care, or live under a bridge, or eat from a dumpster, even as others take 10-minute joy-rides into space at billions of rands per jaunt, we will have arrived at maturity as a species. As things stand, there remain many long ways we have yet to come up, babe. DM Rethabile Masilo is a Mosotho poet from Lesotho who lives in Paris, France. Life By Rethabile Masilo When at peace, feeling like the best of your body, it is impossible to imagine some muscle twitching, wrecked by the increase in years, a shoulder loose every time you run for the bus, God inching nearer with each tremor of the hand, though it will not be till the lungs draw dust in and your voice rasps, as in a hopeless dream, that you will understand how evil all of this is, after a ligament has waned and atrophied. And if ever the flank gives, you pray for release from terror that makes you recall past acts, and you ask your family to find the courage to bring Doctor Death to your bedside. You don't like the urine balloon tied to your waist. You never wanted to die with tubes up your nose. Besides, how cruel it is to let somebody rot, when they used to wear their body so sensual? 24 hours By Rethabile Masilo The hand of my mother holds nothing now, except the past, this is what a child must accept. I touch the lumps of her finger-joints and rub balm in, moving from one to the next and feeding the spaces in there. I tell my father I know he's in the room. I tell him to stay with us forever. My mother says she sees her son and grandson as well, holding hands on account of having had to share a grave. Today has been a day of miracles. Mme drank her porridge with the good hand and finished it, then read from her bible a little, her eyes moistening where Jesus asks his father why he has forsaken him so. But it is time for her nap, so, she sleeps, till I get back from town and turn the knob on her TV set, adjust the volume, and leave to go pound some meat to serve with lepu. She watches the evening news. The days are usually the same. The doctor comes sometimes for a quick check-up. 'We are proud of her,' he likes to say, as if we were supposed to harbour some kind of shame.
The Sun
01-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Sun
Death of veteran journalist Nas Ahmad leaves lasting mark
KUALA LUMPUR: The passing of veteran journalist and television (TV) producer Md Nasir Ahmad, better known as Nas Ahmad, has left a profound impact on Malaysia's entertainment media industry and those closest to him. Nas, widely recognised for his work on the TV programme Melodi and the catchphrase 'Kita Terjah,' died at Sungai Buloh Hospital at 9:49 am today following respiratory complications. He was 63. His funeral was held at the Section 9 Muslim Cemetery in Kota Damansara, where family, friends and former colleagues gathered to pay tribute to a man remembered as a spirited father, a loyal friend and a passionate media figure. His eldest son, Muhammad Nasrul, 38, said Nas had asked to go out for a meal shortly before his death, despite being visibly weak. 'We honoured his wish. I never imagined it would be our last meal together,' he told reporters after the burial. Nas had recently been discharged from the hospital and seemed to be recovering, but developed a persistent cough in the days leading up to his death. He had also been hospitalised for three weeks over the recent Hari Raya period, with plans for further treatment that never materialised. Jamil Hassan, a long-time friend and producer at Media Prima, described Nas as inseparable from Melodi and a figure who brought both energy and professionalism to his craft. 'When people say Nas Terjah, they know exactly who he is. His presence shaped the identity of the show,' he said. Former journalist Saiful Azmi Jamsari, 46, credited Nas with launching his career in the industry. 'I didn't have a background in journalism, but Abang Nas guided me from the ground up. His mentorship meant everything,' he said.
The Star
01-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Star
Ex-TV3 journalist Nas Ahmad dies
KUALA LUMPUR: Ex-TV3 journalist cum producer, Nas Ahmad, whose real name is Md Nasir Ahmad, died at the Sungai Buloh Hospital, here Thursday. He was 63. According to his daughter-in-law, Farhana Nazlin Mohamad, Nas, who was famous for his appearance in TV3's entertainment programme, Melodi, breathed his last at 9.49am. "At around midnight yesterday (Wednesday, April 29), he suffered breathing difficulty and a lack of oxygen, so we called an ambulance to rush him to the hospital. This morning, we received a call saying that he has passed away,' she told Bernama when contacted. Farhana said Nas had been suffering from a heart ailment over the past few years and was admitted to the hospital for more than three weeks last month before being discharged last week. She said Nas' remains would be taken to Surau As-Sahabah, Section 7, Kota Damansara, for funeral arrangements before being laid to rest at the Section 9 Muslim Cemetery Kota Damansara before Asar prayer. Nas leaves behind a wife, Norhayati Ahmad, three children and two grandchildren. Nas was one of the recipients of Tabung Kasih@HAWANA fund, and had also received a personal donation from Prime Minister Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim last March. - Bernama
New Straits Times
01-05-2025
- Entertainment
- New Straits Times
#SHOWBIZ: Nas Ahmad of Melodi's 'Terjah' fame dies at 65
KUALA LUMPUR: Former Melodi producer and journalist Nas Ahmad has passed away at Sungai Buloh Hospital at approximately 9.49 this morning, succumbing to complications from a lack of oxygen. He was 65. His daughter-in-law, Farhana Nazlin Mohamad, confirmed that Nas, whose full name was Md Nasir Ahmad, died in the hospital's Emergency Zone after being admitted yesterday due to critically low oxygen levels. "His oxygen level dropped drastically yesterday, and he was rushed to the red zone by ambulance. He was heavily reliant on a breathing apparatus during treatment," Farhana told BH Online. "This morning, we received the devastating news from the hospital. His remains are currently at the forensics department," she added. Details regarding funeral arrangements will be announced later, pending the completion of necessary procedures related to the body. "The enshroudment, prayers, and burial arrangements will be made public once the hospital formalities are concluded," she said. News of Nas Ahmad's passing follows earlier concerns within the entertainment industry about his deteriorating health, after photos showing him visibly unwell due to heart problems circulated. Before his tenure at Melodi, Nas began his career in journalism as a part-time writer for the entertainment magazine URTV in the 1980s. During his time with Melodi, he became well-known for the "Terjah" segment, a popular feature that saw him pursue artistes and entertainment figures for their take on various controversies. After leaving TV3, Nas established his own YouTube channel, "Nas Ahmad Terjah." In April 2024, Nas Ahmad was honoured with a Melodi Icon award. He is survived by his wife, three children, and two grandchildren.
