Clipse’s long-delayed sophomore album is superlative trap-hop in its most elemental form.
In rock circles, Guns N’ Roses’ Chinese Democracy is shorthand for any album so long-delayed it becomes mythological. One of rap’s equivalents is Virginia Beach duo Clipse’s sophomore album, which has finally seen the light of day. Unless you’re Jay-Z, comfort is seldom artistically fertile ground for rap, which thrives on urgency. Clipse’s stint in label purgatory has only made the notoriously nihilistic MCs sharper and madder. Hell Hath No Fury revolves around Pusha-T and Malice’s grim, whip-smart rhymes, embattled tirades against the rap establishment and densely stylized drug-speak. “So proper / Hammetime gun cocker / Top shotter / Me hesitate none pop ya / Eggshell on the scale for my snow coppers,” Pusha effortlessly tongue-twists on the sinuous single “Wamp Wamp (What it Do).” The Neptunes rise to the occasion with their starkest, scariest, most minimal beats to date—“Ride around Shining” is composed of little more than a couple naked snare hits and a liquid-metal synth swirl. This time, believe the hype.