Imagine my disappointment, steadfast Lauryn Hill stan that I am, in the hot-off-the-press news this morning of Ms. Hill's misadventure at Oakland's Paramount Theater, on the first of a sporadic string of stateside summer tour dates:

How bad was this concert? Well, calling it a fiasco would be an insult to fiascos everywhere. It was so bad that it sent 75 to 100 fans into the lobby only four songs into the set, all of them grumbling loudly and demanding refunds. Those were the smart ones - the rest of us remained in our seats and watched what amounted to a two-hour train wreck.
Jim Harrington, Inside Bay Area

Her hair in an unkempt rust-colored Afro, Hill wore a green-and-yellow plaid jacket that appeared to be made of wool and an ankle-length black skirt, looking not unlike a bag lady one might encounter at a taco truck on International Boulevard. She held a microphone in her right hand and a black handkerchief in her left, frequently wiping sweat from her face as she paced the stage.

At one point during the show, the singer tripped and fell, landing flat on her backside. "That's what I get for wearing high heels," she said, as she rose to her feet.

Lee Hildebrand, San Francisco Chronicle

...Lauryn Hill, moved across the stage like a sac-religious mixture of a James Brown impersonation, and your local borderline drunk.

The band was playing so loud, I swear it was a Battle of the Bands contest, Lauryn Hill’s mic was generating so much feedback, I felt like I was stuck in a middle school auditorium listening to an ear-splitting talent show, and “Ms. Diva Hill” was so twisted, that through the music and mic catastrophe, I’m not even sure if she was speaking a language native to any country on this planet.

In the lobby there was a growing crowd of angry patrons. I passed a lawyer who was collecting names for a petition, and saw a line of security guards backed up against the doors that led to the box office with a crowd of people waiting. Soon thereafter, the police showed up. A fight broke out in the balcony, someone threw up, and a middle-aged woman came limping out of the arena with no shoes on.

Excerpts of concert-goer K.R. Fardy's letter to the SF Weekly's "All Shook Down" blog

Miss Hill's voice sounded like she had just come off a bad chest cold, her pacing of songs included epic-length new stuff (including her first song that had a chorus that repeated something about heathens over and over and over) and crowd favorites so drowned out by the awesome, yet huge 11-piece band (3 guys on percussion, 2 guys on keys, 3 guys on strings, 2 guys on horns, 1 DJ plus 4 back-up singers) that you could barely make out Miss Hill's vocals.
Blogger two eLs

(Hill at at her fan-friendliest)

Here's the rub: I will still attend Hill's free Brooklyn concert this August. I saw Hill at her height during the Miseducation... tour. She put on a spectacle at the Fox Theater in Atlanta and me and my road dog at the time put on our BCBG best, coated our faces with Chanel cosmetics, zipped up our knee-high Kenneth Cole boots and had an extraordinary time. We were so hyped up that despite being underage we confidently drove a few blocks to the afterparty at Esso, parked my friend's truck kitty corner to a Land Rover out of which emerged Andre Benjamin back when he was still 'Dre and, ten paces behind, a narrow platformed woman who we initially dismissed until she cowered from what I can only imagine were imaginary paparazzi bulbs and drew attention to her Baduity. 'Dre said something pleasant and beat us to the entrance. We attempted to follow his lead but were thwarted by the bouncer's demand for ID. Still, it was a good night. We bore witness the next week in the cafeteria of our face-to-face interaction with a woman whose solo debut soundtracked our first year of college, from its drop during our orientation week through May's move-out. We were newly independent and somewhat idealistic like Boogie and were ones to experiment with the odd make-up palette and the ankle-twisting platform sandals. Plus we were exceedingly dramatic. The passion, the pathos, and yes even the pretense of Miseducation... was a perfect match. So looking back, looking back, looking back is a reminder of what we had, what we were: "I Wish", animated, for the not-so little nappy headed boys, the growing-up girls with press and curls and God knows who else. The Boomers romanticize much (i.e., 'Summer of Love' 40th anniversary mania) and it's only fair that the sentimental ones of us should be allowed to see the world, in this case a slight frightfully-fallen star, through rose-colored glasses.

http://www.vibe.com/blog/babar/2007/06/the_misa.html

I am convinced that she has completely lost her mind.

A fight broke out in the balcony, someone threw up, and a middle-aged woman came limping out of the arena with no shoes on.

The Chinese Democracy of the Hip-Hop World

speaking of Lauryn...
here's a review of her show
in Oakland, CA

She's a racist crack whore

I think part of Lauryn's problem is she really has no idea of who she is. She spent so much time creating an image to combat the image that she created when she was with the Fuggees. Now, she has become totally lost inside of that second image that she created and it is a sad thing to see. She had potential to be as big as many of music legends, but she just cannot take all of the things that fame brings with it.

i'm sorry but WOW

Anxiety said:

I thought the SAME exact thing...then I pictured it....

peace

VANITYSprisonBYTCH said:

it sounds like a g.g. allin concert