By Aníse Meccouri: Who is Jill Scott?

The song “He Loves Me (Lyzel In E Flat)” is one of the most breathtaking accounts of loving another human being I have ever heard. Jill Scott’s lyrics in this song are not ironic, metaphorical, or cliché. They just state the concrete reality of being in love day-to-day.

In fact, a huge part of Scott's vocal performance in this song is not even bound by lyrics. She wisely chooses to ditch words and frees herself to just intone the feeling of love over a deliberately complex underbody of music, composed of a soaring string section, synthetic bass beat, and improvisational piano. If that doesn’t sound like being in love, I don’t know what does.

If you took a “long walk” through Grammy-nominated Scott’s 2000 debut release Who is Jill Scott?, you would discover the golden pride of North Philly, emotional wounds deep enough to fall into, the rawness of what the poet perceives, and the most fragrant “summer peaches.” Who is Jill Scott? is a high-pressure, potent journey through a spiritual maturation, full of pain and bliss, and articulated in the kind of simplicity that shocks with its sharpness.

In this album, Jill Scott walks us through the streets of late 1970s Philadelphia in a pair of “shell-top Adidas,” lets us soar in the billows of her intense love for human beings, and drags us down into the depths of humiliation when she gets, yes, dissed by a lover. Who is Jill Scott? is not merely a triumph with the critics and fan base; it can be sensed that this autobiographical and deeply moving collection of “words and sounds” was a personal triumph for the artist herself.

Jill Scott grew up in north Philadelphia. Externally, her neighborhood bore a lot of tension between the “haves” and “have-nots,” a lot of violence and drug trafficking, and the omnipresent option of mediocrity. But on the inside of this neighborhood, Scott documents fondly in her music the “block parties and penny candy,” the abundance of older mentors, the enormous institution of extended family, and the peace of the porch in summer. In the early 1990s, Scott began to funnel her emotions and experiences into poetry, and began reading her verses regularly at different venues in Philadelphia. 

Discovered by Amir of The Roots, Scott ended up in collaboration with the esteemed hip-hop band. This partnership led her to pen one of the most classic melodies in the history of hip hop: the chorus for “You Got Me,” intoned by Erykah Badu on the 1999 Roots album Things Fall Apart. This composition led her on a circuit of collaborations with other well-known artists and eventually led her to tour Canada with a Broadway production of the musical Rent. By the time she finished the Rent tour, Steve McKeever's Hidden Beach Recordings label was just getting off the ground—a label that endeavors to protect the integrity of each artist it takes on, and invests in talent and word of mouth. Scott signed to Hidden Beach in 1999, and released her debut a year later.

In a sense, Scott was not the first of her kind, although definitely a welcome, fresh innovator. Philadelphia has produced quite a lineage of serious and talented artists and producers for the hip-hop industry. Will Smith and Jazzy Jeff (who produced Who is Jill Scott?) really opened the door in the early 1990s with their uniquely-styled contributions to hip hop. Before Fresh Prince, these early MCs brought the Philadelphia vibe into the mainstream, most notably with the classic hit “Summertime,” in which the Philly culture that Scott represents was first illuminated through hip hop. There are some stunning thematic parallels between the story in “Summertime” and Scott’s deeply nostalgic song “Do You Remember,” almost ten years later. The Roots, Jaguar Wright, Beanie Sigel, and Musiq Soulchild are among many recorders to have emerged from Philly in this sequence of authentic and distinguished hip-hop artists.

Who is Jill Scott? is not motivated by pop devices or industry values. It has its own set of principles, all according to Scott.

A fan describes the open intimacy of this album: "What the producers gave her and what she did with that music, it’s like… she writes her own stuff, her songs are not designed to be songs; they’re pieces from her notebook."

It is impossible to discuss this album's highlights because every song is a self-contained masterpiece of atmosphere and storytelling. Very affecting is the disturbing and haunting “Love Rain,” a spoken-word piece, which begins as a mindless romance story and turns into heart-wrenching account of betrayal and mockery. The foreshadowing chorus of the song (“Love rain down on me”), at first innocent, turns into a pathetic admission of defeat. We realize that love rain is blinding, and causes us to drown while we’re left alone, lost in our warped perceptions of a relationship that has no truth to it. The line, “the mistake was made,” has never been dropped in a heavier way than when Scott says it with a palpable self-hatred. The rhythmic storytelling of this song is so enveloping that you don’t see it coming when Scott actually takes her feelings and makes them explode within you at every corner.

Every song has an amazing emotional landscape, with timeless wisdom tucked into every well-composed bar of music. “Slowly, Surely” will strike a chord with anyone who has ever found it difficult to respect themselves enough to walk away from a dysfunctional situation, even when it seems to be the only thing that defines them. “Gettin’ In My Way” is a hilarious and empowering declaration of respect, and “A Long Walk” is all of our stories of how exciting and new it was to first get to know someone who would change our lives.

What makes Scott’s album classic, a contribution to the history of hip hop, is her musical portrayal of the roots of this art form. Scott’s vocal techniques oxygenate urban culture in a way that hip hop hasn’t recently. She is a technician of sound clearly “trained” by her musical ancestor, the late Sarah Vaughan, and educated by her own experience. However, unlike her muse Vaughan, she is unbound by the sexist and melodic standards of the 1950s, and can finally call a spade a spade.

No matter how world-class an artist Scott is, she is black, female, and from humble beginnings, and it is apparent that she does not avoid this cultural context, but rather uses it as a foundation for her work. When she sings of love, she sings of her own love, not Gershwin’s. When she sings of devastation and heartbreak, she doesn’t wilt and die like the brilliant vocalists of generations past were required to. She glorifies the spiritual reality of her urban culture, not the misplaced material symbols of glory. Scott hereby works as a cultural developer, an educator, and a siren.

If you want to experience the range of feelings of the human spirit, pick up Who is Jill Scott? and be ready to receive the real.