There’s no great mystery as to why Til the Casket Drops is so disappointing. In fact, shame on us (or me) for being disappointed. After all, what’s more predictable than a subpar follow-up to a hip-hop instant classic? The genre’s not really tailored to the LP format – masterpieces on the level of Clipse’s last release, ’06’s Hell Hath No Fury, are few and far between. Still, as objectively unsurprising as it should be, I confess that the essential mediocrity of the latest from brothers Pusha T and Malice nevertheless bummed me out.
But back to that non-mystery; the problem here isn’t Pusha or Malice – they’re as sharp as ever when rhyming about their bread and butter (selling cocaine), while deepening and expanding their repertoire by focusing on little-discussed themes within hip-hop, like entering one’s middle years or raising a family (I must confess, though, to wincing when Malice drops a reference to the kids’ movie Madagascar in “Champion”). Yes, I think it’s clear that they’ve somewhat simplified their rhymes and, however slightly, prettified their content, but overall Pusha T and Malice aren’t to blame for the record’s failures. Or rather, they’re only to blame insofar as they chose to use this hodgepodge of weak, boring, milquetoast beats.
And I mean it when I say these beats are weak. One of Hell Hath No Fury‘s unquestionable strengths was the group’s choice to use the Neptunes for every single track; it gave the record a cohesive flow that’s exceedingly rare in hip-hop. Further – and, obviously, this is more important – the collection of beats the Neptunes provided was likely the best Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo had ever produced. On the new record, for one, the Neptunes no longer are the sole collaborators. Secondly, the beats they provide (well, besides “Popular Demand”) just straight-up suck. “I’m Good” is all squirrelly synths and fuzz – a lesser version of “I Know” off of Jay-Z’s American Gangster (which wasn’t a very good track, either) – while “Champion,” “Door Man” and the rest are laconic and meandering.
So let’s finally solve that non-mystery, shall we? The problem with Til the Casket Drops is that it presents a version of Clipse that’s almost indistinguishable from countless other MCs. There’s little to no fire here and, in an attempt (I imagine) to finally win the commercial success that’s eluded them thus far, Pusha and Malice have smoothed out all the edges that made them interesting in the first place. If you’re a real hip-hop head, you’re probably going to be at least satisfied by the majority of the material here; as I said, Pusha and Malice are still, more or less, Pusha and Malice, and there’s plenty of clever wordplay here to appreciate. But, if like me, you were drawn to Clipse in the first place because there was something a little different about ’em, there’s nothing here to keep you coming back. I don’t begrudge ’em for trying to reach a wider audience and make more money – I’d perhaps just remind Clipse that you don’t make big money by following someone else’s lead.
