Clipse - Hell Hath No Fury
MusicMash Rating: not rated yet
Pitchfork Media Rating: 9.1
With the long-delayed, viciously imagined Hell
Hath No Fury, Clipse-- hip-hop's meanest, smartest duo-- have done what a gathering collection of internet seekers, record-store goers, and street corner mixtape shoppers hoped they might: release a classic. With musical partners the Neptunes, Clipse have crafted 12 unrelenting tales of desperation and
distribution, glamour and gloating. Lyrically, the album is spare and incisive-- wordplay abounds
but the punches are quick and devastating-- and musically, Malice and Pusha T have
arguably snatched the best dozen Neptunes tracks in years. Together,
the quartet has crafted an album that's sonically deep, dark, and
one of 2006's finest.
An unforgivable mean streak powers this album, which is no surprise considering the endlessly documented label
drama Clipse have endured, and the ascetic rage that courses through their
music. Push and Mal spent much of their lauded 2005 mixtape, We Got
It 4 Cheap Vol. 2, elucidating both their
ethical and financial dealings: They were cold-blooded, joyous, and morally
complex all at once. But the subject matter remained mostly street talk--
deals, slang, stunting-- with dabs of glitz tossed in. This album isn't about
cocaine per se; it's the aftershock of a coke sale-infused existence. The
results spray everywhere, from the vacant spending spree of "Dirty Money" to
the terrifyingly earned braggadocio of "Trill". This is lifestyle assertion,
not something as negligible and confined as drug music.
The two men in the
middle of it all are brilliant at nearly every turn. The younger Thornton
brother, Pusha, remains star and stylist, brazenly dishing on minor details
like his sunglasses ("Louis V Millionaires to kill the glare") while injecting
a malevolent, almost maniacal intensity to his verses. His elder brother, Malice, is the vulnerable antecedent, not
without floss but more leaning on family and fraternity: "Grandma,
look at me, I'm turnin' the other cheek," he laments on "We Got It For Cheap
(Intro)". Their rhyme patterns aren't overwhelmingly technical; Pusha rhymes straightforward syllables without tangling his syntax into a
jumbled hush-mutter. (Jay-Z, take note: Sometimes directness is a blessing.)
And,
as if the sniping slow burn of lead single "Mr. Me Too" wasn't enough notice, Clipse are
self-contained entities, seemingly uninfluenced by their contemporaries. Occasionally they recall
duos of the past-- EPMD's playfulness, Outkast's willingness to attempt the
unconventional, Mobb Deep's unerring rancor-- but they're true only to their
sound, a simmering executioner's song. Rarely explicitly violent, their blistering
conviction feels like carnage on "What It Do (Wamp Wamp)"-- Malice even compares
himself to the genocidal Hutu tribe on the track. It confirms their
unjustifiable relishing of moral decay, and while it's impossible to comprehend or condone, the
energy and flair is undeniable.
All that said, the Neptunes' mystifying, irregular sonics further elevate the record. When
the drum sounds are light and chimey, the surrounding melodies sound sinister
and serpentine. Otherwise that formula is completely flipped, as doorknocker
snares often accompany spacious arrangements. It's an interesting juxtaposition-- fitting the furious and odd against bubbly and blissful-- but this is what
the Neptunes have always done best (think Noreaga's "Superthug" or Kelis'
"Milkshake"). Accordions, steel pan drums, harps, distorted synths, cowbell-- Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo throw everything at Clipse. (One assumes Hugo,
whose work has leaned toward the dark and spare in the past, had a large hand
in this album.) "Trill" and "Ride Around Shining" in particular are...
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