Clipse Returns: A Vengeful Comeback

Emma Paff

Music Journalist

When I first listened to “Let God Sort Em Out” I was hit with a range of emotions. At first, I was excited to listen to something new that reminded me of the music that first got me into rap. Then I felt lost. My various feeds have been flooded with so much trap music that I almost forgot about the power of storytelling. The genre has changed so much, it feels like it has lost a lot of authenticity in the past few years. While trap beats are infectious, I miss the lyricism, grittiness, and technicality of rap that used to be popular in the late 2010s. Rappers like JID, Cordae, Bas, and Pusha T had such a hold on me during that time because of their verse-driven narratives. Clipse’s new album brings me back to an era of rap that I previously thought was lost and reminded me of the music that made me love rap in the first place.

After nearly 15 years since their last album, Clipse, the duo comprised of brothers Pusha T and Malice, have reunited to release one of this year’s most jaw-dropping albums. Let God Sort Em Out is cold, calculated, and sometimes sinister. Pharrell Williams backs up the dark mood of the album with a minimalist but unpredictable production style. His ability to create tension using beats is showcased throughout this album, with evolving drum patterns and vocal loops. Each track’s intricate production is carefully curated but not overpowering, allowing the voices of Clipse to truly shine and come to life.

The opening track of the album surprised me the most. “The Birds Don’t Sing” is a heart-wrenching tribute to Pusha T and Malice’s late parents. Clipse shows an emotionally vulnerable side of themselves that we haven’t seen before. Pusha T opens the track by reflecting on how he was distracted by his plans and emotionally unavailable while his mom was quietly trying to say goodbye. His verses are heavy, honest, and intimate as he reflects on all of the signs she had given him that he missed. Malice paints a vivid picture of discovering their father deceased in the house. He characterizes his father as a hardworking, caring man who loved his sons dearly. He touches on the quality time they spent on fishing trips and how his dad acted as a father figure to his friends. “The Birds Don’t Sing” is filled with grief and emotional transparency. It’s a shift from their normal hustler narrative; it’s personal and intimate.

The album’s tone switches quickly as the song “Chains & Whips” comes into play. The track, featuring Kendrick Lamar, stands out for its intensity and raw anger. Pusha T re-establishes his dominance in the rap world, offering a powerful verse in the hook, “Beat the system with chains and whips,” that addresses generational trauma. Kendrick elevates the track with an unapologetic cultural critique. He makes it clear that hip hop is dying due to the mass production of the industry. To me, “Chains & Whips” is one of the best songs on the album. It demands the attention of the listener with its aggressive tone and raw honesty.

Other stand-out tracks in this album include “P.O.V.,” “M.T.B.T.T.F.,” F.I.C.O.,” and “Inglorious Bastards.” They are persuasively backed by Pharrell’s production of layered soundscapes and pounding drum kicks. What impresses me most is how dark and rash the album is while still controlled and mechanical.

The level of execution and maturity displayed in this album sets it apart from their previous projects. Let God Sort Em Out creates a hostile but very much needed environment in the rap industry. It confronts the listener with unapologetic truths about oppression and how it can alter one’s identity. The duo is not flexing their current status, rather reminding us of the cycle of power and pain. After their reunion, Clipse unleashed havoc upon the rap community, and they certainly delivered. Let God Sort Em Out acts as a cautionary tale, and I hope their journey continues to restore authenticity within the rap community.