It’s Not All Bland, It Just Seems So

There is much to savor in ‘90s pop music, from the birth of grunge to the ascent of hip-hop. But little of it was released during 1998.

The last 12 months were an unusually timid period in pop, a time when the industry surrendered to mostly conventional strains of diva pop, macho rap, novelty pop and anonymous rock.

Label executives and radio programmers seemed so worried about the Next Big Thing that no one wanted to take a chance on new sounds until the NBT presented itself. This uncertainty even seemed to paralyze most recording artists.

Few albums exhibited even a trace of the qualities associated with great works--originality, craft and commentary. In the works that did contain those elements, there was usually another one also present: artistic courage.

Much of the strength of the albums by Lauryn Hill, Alanis Morissette and Eels, for instance, seemed a direct outgrowth of these artists’ refusal to play it safe.

The easy thing for Hill, who soared higher than anyone in 1998, would have been to build her solo debut around the type of contemporary pop standards, such as “Killing Me Softly,” that helped make her group the Fugees such a critical and commercial blockbuster.

Instead, the New Jersey native pieced together “The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill,” a series of songs about liberation and struggle that reminded us of the eloquence and grand social ambition of Stevie Wonder’s 1973 “Innervisions.”

Encouragingly, Hill’s album also found a wide audience, selling more than 2.5 million copies since its August release. Most of the other artists on today’s list of 1998’s best works, however, paid a price for their artistic daring--their albums only attracted a fraction of Hill’s audience. But they have the satisfaction of knowing that their albums are among the few from this year that may still mean something a decade from now.

1. Lauryn Hill’s “The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill” (Ruffhouse/Columbia). As a writer, producer and vocalist, Hill tells a very personal story in a remarkably universal way. Whether singing or rapping, Hill is conscious of her role as woman, mother and African American, and a sense of extended community runs through the heart of “Miseducation”--an album whose blend of hip-hop, soul, pop and reggae is so stylish and accessible that it should best be thought of as hip-pop.

Four songwriters-producers who worked with Hill on the album have filed suit claiming that she failed to give them proper credit for their contributions--a charge a Hill spokesman denies. Whatever the truth, it doesn’t detract from the accomplishment of the album. “Miseducation” may run a song or two long, but it is an inspired work that chronicles the search for self-affirmation with a sense of social and spiritual consciousness.

2. Alanis Morissette’s “Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie” (Maverick). This is another story of self-affirmation, but with a more internal, near primal-scream pop-rock approach. Morissette’s courage was in refusing to be intimidated by the enormous commercial expectations surrounding her after the 28 million worldwide sales of her last album, “Jagged Little Pill.”

Rather than freeze in the headlights of this attention, Morissette found the strength to examine spiritual and psychological issues in her own life and give us a virtual diary of her search.

At times, Morissette becomes so involved in telling the complete story that she loses track of her pop instincts, leaving some tracks without an engaging musical frame. When on target, as in “Thank U” and “That I Would Be Good,” she delivers emotional payoffs even greater than those in “Miseducation.”

3. Eels’ “Electro-Shock Blues” (DreamWorks). There must have been a point early in writing these uncompromising songs about death that group leader E (Mark Oliver Everett) realized that there was no way he was going to sell many records. Still, he went forward with the dark subject matter, so shaken by losses in his own family circle that he had no choice other than to turn his grief into art. It’s a near flawless piece of pop art, an album whose somber base is softened by a few surprisingly witty and ultimately uplifting moments.

4. Elliott Smith’s “XO” (DreamWorks). Smith stays so deep in his own private world as a singer and songwriter that he must be amazed sometimes that anyone else can relate to his music. But it’s that private, unique vision that makes this meticulous writer’s delicate tales of disillusionment and doubt so moving.

5. Hole’s “Celebrity Skin” (DGC). Even if you’re suspicious of Courtney Love’s change from punk diva to movie glamour queen, you’re likely to be swept away by Hole’s highly melodic, glam-rock base and Love’s candid lyrics about what it’s like to rebuild your world after seeing it literally blown apart.

6. Public Enemy’s “He Got Game” (Def Jam). In this soundtrack for the Spike Lee film, the veteran rap outfit makes a triumphant return to form, addressing exploitation in basketball, the record business and beyond.

7. Rufus Wainwright’s “Rufus Wainwright” (DreamWorks). Not everything in this debut works, but Wainwright’s combination of Broadway, troubadour and cabaret sensibilities is intoxicating in its promise, and his looks at the torments and thrills of love convey the honesty of a confessional.

8. Vince Gill’s “The Key” (MCA). Ignoring country radio’s insistence on pop-edged polish, Gill turns winningly to early honky-tonk strains to back these soul-searching songs that grew out of the breakup of his marriage and the death of his father.

9. Tricky’s “Angels With Dirty Faces” (Island). The English studio whiz expresses themes of defiance, desperation and despair with the earthy, unsettling punctuation of a master bluesman, setting aside the traditional guitar for a ‘90s sensibility that draws on hip-hop, soul, rock and electronica.

10. Billy Bragg & Wilco’s “Mermaid Avenue” (Elektra). This unlikely project, in which the politically minded English singer-songwriter and the U.S. band Wilco put music to previously unpublished Woody Guthrie lyrics, is a celebration of the human spirit that is all the more disarming for the way it finds a bond across generations.

Robert Hilburn, The Times’ pop music critic, can be reached by e-mail at robert.hilburn@latimes.com