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| Leisureblogs |
 How to follow up a hip-hop classic? Clipse’s 2006 album, “Hell Hath No Fury,” was a sparse, brutally efficient, filler-free song cycle about the drug trade. Its mood was bleak, its lyrics novelistic in detail, a haunted meditation on the allure and paranoia of a dirty business. The album was notably free of cameos, catchy R&B hooks and commercial success. On “Til’ the Casket Drops” (Columbia), siblings Gene "Malice" Thornton and Terrence "Pusha T" Thornton resume their collaboration with production juggernaut the Neptunes. But this time, the Virginia duo lower their standards on a handful of songs in pursuit of the hits that eluded them the last time. The most obvious concession to mainstream hip-hop is “I’m Good,” in which the Neptunes’ Pharrell Williams lays down sing-songy vocal hooks alongside some shockingly pedestrian Clipse rhymes. On “All Eyes On Me,” Keri Hilson is enlisted to prettify Clipse’s generic leering. “Counseling” is even worse, a sex addict enumerating his limitless needs. Malice and Pusha T are at the top of their game on most of the rest; even when they swagger on “Popular Demand (Popeyes),” the wordplay is so thick and weirdly inventive that it’s difficult to deny them. They’re thug philosopher kings, erudite hustlers who revisit the cocaine-lined catacombs of their previous work on “Door Man.” It plays like a Spaghetti Western showdown in the ‘hood, complete with mariachi horns. And on “Freedom” and “Life Change,” they plumb new levels of introspection, deeply personal works that glimmer with a hint of redemption. After the perfection of “Hell Hath No Fury,” Clipse’s third album is a frustratingly uneven listen. But it still contains enough brilliance to suggest the Thorntons have another classic in them. Maybe next time....full text |
| Rapreviews |
| Be careful what you wish for..." Ne'er a truer word spoke. After spending much of this decade in label limbo, the Clipse have finally jumped ship to Columbia Records – an aptly named major for the Virginia-born duo, cooking up coke rhymes for most of the Noughties. In production terms, it means a break from those Neptunes-only beats, opening up an untold world of, erm, DJ Khalil's, not to mention Sean C & LV's ... And that's about it. So "Til the Casket Drops" comes a full three years after what was a critically-acclaimed classic ("Hell Hath No Fury" – one of the few albums this decade that genuinely deserves that accolade), and anticipation levels are fever-pitch amongst hardened hip hop heads, hoping that another HHNF would somehow rescue an entire decade mired in mediocrity. This represents a different kind of pressure for the Clipse, and they finally got what they wished for: a great major label behind them, somewhat more varied production and a fervent fanbase that passionately wants them to succeed. The question that arises from getting what you wish for is whether it becomes a help or a hindrance. For example, opening up production duties to non-Neptunians results in the stunning album opener "Freedom," involving a glorious instrumental from Sean C & LV, passionate lyrics and an insane outro. Being on a major label, however, brings commercial pressure to at least try and break even, hence the somewhat clunky and out-of-place "All Eyes On Me" featuring Keri "The Kiss of Death" Hilson (everything she guests on seems inexplicably destined to turn to dust). As for their loyal customers, they have received two noticeable differences on TTCD: the first, a roster of guest MC's and singers, and the second, a change in lyrical subject matter. After the first couple of spins, it is clear that this is no "Hell Hath No Fury" – in that 2006 epic, a singular cause was underpinned by unilaterally superb Neptunes production, and the Clipse breathed new life into a fast-forgotten sub-genre of hip hop. They were focussed with a crystal clear vision of what they wanted to achieve, and fuelled by a sense of perpetration and injustice at the hands of a big, bad record label. Everything worked exactly as it should have, but now the element of surprise has been removed, so the formula could never be lazily duplicated. One of the best lines from their last album was on "Hello New World" when Malice spits "But this information I must pass to the homies/If hustling a must, be Sosa, not Tony..." That is somewhat their viewpoint on TTCD, where they rap above love, loss and happiness being able to watch "Madagascar" with the kids. They are past having to live the life of a street hustler, and want to enjoy more simple and, dare we say it, honest pleasures, enjoying life sitting above the game on songs like the exquisite "I'm Good" rather than immersed in the harsh "Grindin'" they used to face. Of course the various caveats of coke, money and bitches are forced to provide the backbone that fans have come to expect, but the Clipse almost undermine it all – at this stage in their careers, having enjoyed success through albums, mixtapes, guest appearances and live shows, would anyone even slightly believe them if they just rapped about being cocaine kingpins? It's almost all delivered with a knowing wink, being victims of their own success, whilst not having a comparable output to Jay-Z or Kanye West. After all, those two have evolved hugely since 2002, but have managed to specifically detail how over five and four albums respectively (plus countless guest appearances). This is only the third Clipse album in seven years, so whilst they have clearly matured, they have had to balance their albums with music that may not have fully represented their actual personalities. They go some way to changing that, with impassioned and deeply personal lyrics on certain songs, though there is always a "but" attached to everything. This doesn't help the first few listens, as, quite frankly, it doesn't make too much sense, either sequentially or in pure and simple terms, believability....full text |
| Prefixmag |
| On the first track on Road To Till The Casket Drops mixtape that came out in advance of Clipse’s third LP, Till The Casket Drops, Pusha T says “they say the third time’s the charm,” and for Clipse, it’d better be. After releasing an excellent debut in 2002 (Lord Willin’) after being jerked around for five years as their “unofficial” debut Exclusive Audio Footage sat on Elektra’s shelves (it’s available widely on the net), Clipse were again caught in label limbo when Jive kept shelving and pushing back their stellar sophomore album, 2006’s Hell Hath No Fury. Then Clipse got dropped, signed to Columbia, cut an official posse record (2008’s Clipse Presents: Re-Up Gang), and began work on Till The Casket Drops, which for the first time, features production work from producers not named the Neptunes. Scott Storch, Rick Rubin, Kanye West, The Hitmen, and Swizz Beatz are slated to contribute beats, and the subject matter will almost certainly pertain to white powder. ~ Andrew Winistorfer ReviewBy Andrew Winistorfer Prefix Rating 7.0 Average Rating 4.9 Your Rating Login to rate this post Referencing label tumult as a part of the Clipse narrative may have become played-out months before Hell Hath No Fury was released, but really, label tumult is the Clipse narrative. You’d be hard pressed to find a rap act that has had its career screwed over more by the major-label system than the brothers Clipse. In 1999, they recorded an excellent debut, Exclusive Audio Footage, a cinematic trip through slinging dope and living with the fear that life is short and cheap, that was shelved by Elektra after lead single “The Funeral” tanked. Then they recorded Lord Willin’, a bonafied hit (thanks to the classic “Grindin’”), before being banished to label-shuffling purgatory for a few years. The bulk of Clipse’s career has been spent battling labels, which couldn’t recognize what they had on their hands, to just release their music. Even though Pusha-T says, “Music’s been nothing more than a self-made prison,” during the second line of the opening track on Clipse’s third LP, Til the Casket Drops, Clipse are finally in a healthy label situation, receiving a seven-figure bonus from Columbia last year. Only problem is that now, Clipse have nothing to rail against. Til the Casket Drops runs the gamut from jocular to boastful, from celebratory to (occasionally) self-reflective, minus the acerbic, paranoid, weary dope tales that made Clipse the “pioneers of the coke rap.” Clipse have always straddled the razor-thin line between their and Jim Jones’ boasting street sagas, and disappointingly, here they too often cross over to Jimmy’s side for a few bad attempts at a hit single....full text |
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