Welcome to Haiti: Creole 101

1	Jean Dominique Intro 1:08
2	24 É Tan Pou Viv 4:06
3	President 3:36
4	Bicentennial 4:02
5	Generation X 4:37
6	Party by the Sea / T-Vice 3:51
7	Haitian Mafia 4:07
8	Le Ou Marye 5:30
9	Fistibal-Festival / Melky Jean 4:28
10	La Bamba 3:59
11	Bay Micro'm Volume 5:20
12	Proud to Be African 4:11
13	Douce 4:08
14	Lavi New York 4:17
15	Fanm Kreyol 3:58
16	Nou Va Rive 4:29
17	President Bonus Track / Remix 3:58

Barnes & Noble

Fugees main man Wyclef Jean has been sneaking a Caribbean-based multiculturalism through hip-hop's back door since his posse of Haitian immigrants cracked the rap charts in the mid-'90s. He's also, understandably, become Haiti's favorite son, returning often to pitch in during the island's innumerable political and natural catastrophes. Welcome to Haiti Creole 101 is an album he's been threatening to make for some time. An effort originally to be released abroad only, it contains but one track in English, "President," and one in Spanish; the rest are in French and Kreyol, the creole language of Haiti. While his lyrics may be indecipherable to English speakers, the musical modus is not. It's the same old Clef game, rife with guest stars, including Foxy Brown, Buju Banton, and the French rap star Passi; covers (this time, "La Bamba"); acoustic guitars; and ersatz Bob Marleyisms. The album comes at an ambivalent time for both Wyclef and his countrymen. Haitians around the world celebrate the 200th anniversary of the island's independence; the birthday of the world's first free black republic. At the same time, civil unrest is at its peak as political corruption and the wrath of two hurricanes continue to test the country's meager resources. Likewise, Wyclef has floundered about, increasingly out of step with provincial hip-hop thuggery. Welcome is a neat exit from the game. (Not without a parting shot: "Tell the children the truth," he raps, "Not all that bling is diamond / Most of y'all wear cubic zirconium.") Wyclef stretches hip-hop so far that it's very nearly something else -- little separates this album from a particularly progressive zouk disc. But the synthesis of heritage, hip-hop, and history -- and a lack of the maddeningly creative rapper's increasingly desperate ghetto histrionics -- make for the most satisfying Clef record since The Carnival. Mark Schwartz

All Music Guide

Stepping aside from the major-label playing field for a moment, the ever-unpredictable Wyclef Jean indulges in his Caribbean heritage on Welcome to Haiti: Creole 101, an essentially noncommercial album released on the down-low by Sak Pasé Records in late 2004. The full-length effort is a whirlwind musical journey through Caribbean music styles, as written and produced by Wyclef and right-hand man Jerry "Wonder" Duplessis. Sure, Wyclef has always shown an affinity for Caribbean music, but he's always fused it with his other affinities, namely hip-hop and pop/rock. Not so here: this a full-fledged Caribbean album that careens from style to style -- within the course of a single song, more often than not! -- showcasing glints of everything from reggaeton to cumbia without ever succumbing on the confines of a single style. It's really an amazing listen, especially if you're at all attracted to Caribbean music. Rarely if ever does the music feel by-the-numbers, and Wyclef maneuvers through his musical tapestry with astonishing ease, even switching from English language to Creole whenever he so feels the need. In fact, you could argue that this is the most natural-sounding Wyclef album to date since nothing is forced (i.e., no forceful fusions of, say, hip-hop and pop à la Wyclef's notorious pop-rap interpolations). Then again, anyone who favors the hip-hop side of Wyclef -- or, more broadly speaking, his commercial side -- is going to find little to grasp onto here. "President" stands out as the album's obvious crossover attempt, and while it's a really great song that is among Wyclef's best and most heartfelt, it's unrepresentative of the remainder of the album, very little of which could ever find its way onto any commercial radio format in America. That's how freewheeling this album is -- it's so freewheeling that Wyclef's major-label affiliate, J Records, let this one pass by. The audience for an album like this is quite small, no doubt: of Wyclef's fan base, only those who enjoy him at his most creative or most Caribbean should consider this release. There are definitely no "Gone Till November"s here. That said, Welcome to Haiti: Creole 101 is nonetheless an amazing album and one that deserves acclaim. It's all the more testament to Wyclef's wayward genius. Jason Birchmeier