Originally published on May 3, 2002, this remembrance of Lisa “Left Eye” Lopez was written by then-AJC music critic Sonia Murray, who had spent many years covering the trio.
In a way — particularly now — I wish Lisa had made more of an impression on me the first time I saw her.
But at its start, TLC was very much a unit, with no really distinct parts. I remember that it was 1991 when I first saw the group. There they were, one colorful unit, wiggling next to the pool at Jack the Rapper, a now-defunct music industry convention that was held in Atlanta.
And honestly it was the song — "Ain't 2 Proud 2 Beg" — that resonated more than their image. They looked like a female version of one of the hottest rap groups of the moment — Kris Kross.
Five months later the single hit the air and went on to be the chirpy lovable smash that propelled Tionne "T-Boz" Watkins, Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes and Rozonda "Chilli" Thomas to multimillion-seller status.
But I was still thinking: Cartoons. They make fun music, but they'll be gone like those bright green, too-big pants they were wearing.
Two years later, I was over at the LaFace Records office in Buckhead, and Rozonda showed me the video for "Creep." After the third or fourth airing, the label's chief heard I was still around. He sent a CD down the hall so I could hear the whole "Crazysexycool" album.
What I heard and saw required more thoughtful consideration. Here were three women demanding a second look — for their silkier, sexier new image on the "Creep" video; for their incredible melodic whole on what would be their sophomore album; for the safe-sex message that they hinted at two years earlier when Lisa wore a condom as an eyeglass.
"That's going to be our big record, " Rozonda said rather modestly, and with clearly no idea that the cut "Waterfalls" from the CD would shoot them to the history books as the best-selling female group ever.
It's also the song they kept playing in between the gospel tracks at Lisa's "homegoing" Thursday.
And when her white casket was brought out with some of that song's lyrics emblazoned on the top, I had Lisa flashbacks. I looked up at the screen and saw a still photograph of that LaFace chief who was eager to play their music for me, Antonio "L.A." Reid. He was hugging Lisa like she was his kid.
My mind raced back to yet another afternoon in the LaFace office. Lisa had stopped into the office of LaFace's resident mother figure, Davett Singletary, with her latest adornment — an eyebrow piercing.
Davett picked up the phone like she was trying to win a radio contest and announced: "L.A. you've got to come down and see this!"
Seconds later, Reid was in Davett's office squinching up his face as if the stud over Lisa's eye smelled bad.
Lisa just beamed.
"It felt good!" she declared.
When I walked back to the media room of the church Thursday, I saw the unofficial fourth member of TLC, producer Dallas Austin. And I thought back to the night he explained to me how he and Reid — with a lot of pushing from Lisa and the others — grew TLC from cartoons to heavyweights.
Little did I know that our conversation would wind up the Cliff Notes I used during my oft-repeated — perhaps too oft-repeated — VH1 "Behind the Music" interview on the group.
During the obituary reading Thursday, I learned that Lisa had planned to put out a cookbook tentatively titled "Chef Eye Kitchen." My first thought: Five years ago, she told me she could hurt somebody with her lasagna.
Even though I had talked to Lisa several times on the phone, spotted her when she was keeping a low profile at parties around Atlanta and hung out with her during the rehearsals at Lakewood Amphitheatre for the "Fanmail" tour, I sat alone with Lisa face-to-face all of once.
And while her brash explanation about the infamous fire made for good copy, the thing I remember most is her response in that interview to the old "What would I be surprised to know about you?" question.
"I'm a great cook! My seafood lasagna is slamming!"
Then she said she liked to sew. And could paint.
Oh — and she played the piano.
The list just kept growing. Kind of like it has since she died.
Her grandfather told me Wednesday that he knew Lisa was special because she never crawled; she just up and walked. Producer Daryl Simmons shared that in one of his last recording sessions with her, she carried a Bible in a wood case that she had carved herself.
The blurred image of her at the pool continues to sharpen and grow ever more impressive.
Wonder what I'll learn about Lisa in the next 11 years.
About the Author
