If there is one album bound to split critics down the middle this year it Clipse’s third proper album Til The Casket Drops. We have seen this scenario played out over and over again with artists who have been on the receiving end of critical praise for releasing albums that strike at the heart of the darker parts of the human condition. In 2006 Clipse released the aptly titled Hell Hath No Fury, a snarling, minimalist classic full of gritty street narratives over stark, icy beats supplied by the Neptunes. In 2006 Clipse had a lot to be pissed off about: they had been dropped from their label, their record shelved, and prospects looked bleak. It wasn’t until they had heaps of praise coming from all ends of the blogosphere that Hell Hath No Fury began climbing the charts, filling an empty void of justifiable rage and humanistic tales of Ghetto living in an era of B-boy posturing and vapid materialism. In 2009, after achieving unbridled commercial and critical success, why shouldn’t Clipse be allowed to live life a little bit, write booty raps, diss tracks and money-counting anthems? I mean what do we, as critics, want from Clipse?
It is clear that the Thornton brothers' new grasp on life is only once removed from the harrowing first person narrative coke raps, and is an ephemeral one at best. Clipse has one eye on their dough and the other on the back door. This could explain the bi-polar nature of Til The Casket Drops. Freedom opens the album with an earnest cry for vindication over a bonkers rock and roll beat that recalls another Rick Rubin influenced track, Jay-Z’s “99 Problems”. It is clear the Thorntons gave everything on Hell Hath No Fury and are not about to revisit their own personal hell any time soon. Malice pleads, “What else you want from us, huh?/what more can you ask?/we given you everything/we lost life/we lost love/we lost family behind this shit/this shit you call music/we call this shit life!”
Going from a devastating track like “Freedom” to “Popular Demand (Popeyes)” is a risky but completely needed move to bridge the gap between mindsets. Featuring a heavy hitting, ragtime-piano-laced production from the Neptunes and a choice guest spot from a redeemed Cam’ron, it is inexcusable that this wasn’t their first single. Guest spots are par for the course on a record celebrating itself and what it took to get to this point. However, the guest spots could pretty much stop there. Kanye West’s uninspired collab on the otherwise incredible DJ Khalil produced “I’m Kinda Like a Big Deal” is a low point on the album. Not as low the Keri Hilson chorus on the unanimously voted weakest song on the album “All Eyez on Me”. Pharrel’s contributions should really be kept to the production side of things. His vocal contributions consist of spouting “yeah” and “I’m looking good” ad nausem and really shouldn’t have ventured beyond his sparse snare and synth-heavy beat. Moves like these that should have been left on the cutting room floor, instead show Clipse a little too eager to show how far they've come and how well life is treating them.
Fortunately for us and for the lyrical content of this record, life is a double edged sword. What is jaw dropping about Clipse is their ability to take a typical self-promoting track like “Showing Out” (feat. Yo-Gotti) and layer it with enough pathos and insecurity that “showing out” becomes a shallow front for the deep insecurities that lie at the root of such pronounced exhibitionism. The chorus goes, “I don’t know what it is/something inside/I need that attention/I just can’t hide/Keep hearing these voices inside my mind/saying fuck the rest/it’s time to shine.” This is a pretty deft move on an album that has been passed off as shallow label-baiting. “Showing Out” becomes a polished veneer hiding a shifty-eyed insecurity at being at the vector between two worlds.
Another track that has a similar trajectory is “Counseling,” a beat that boasts the most club-ready banger on the album, is also home to the most confessional anxiety-ridden lyrics of Clipse’s career. “How many chicks I got?/I’m still counting” is not usually a cause for lack of confidence in most rap songs, but when you are objectified only because of your money, these things can get to you. Especially, “when I’m used to getting what/when/how/I want/and then those girls holla “'you ain’t shit!'” Yeah, how about that?
The album ends on three very high notes played in succession. “Champion”, “Footsteps” and “Life Change” are sincere odes to how good life is at this moment. While, Til The Casket Drops is not without its flaws and missteps, what do you expect from a group who have given you everything? Who opened up their hearts and troubled psyches and exposed a world fraught with perils of coke dealing and street life. I mean if Clipse want to watch Madagascar with their kids and rep their clothing brand we should let them. It is bad taste to send Clipse back to the horror of the streets while they are in the midst of their victory lap. What you get from Til The Casket Drops ultimately depends on what you want from the group. If you can accept the silver lining and success stories after a horrendous bout of hard living, Clipse have a seat for you at their table for grownups.
Track List:
1. Speak of Freedom (Produced By Sean C & LV)
2. Popular Demand (Popeyes) feat. Cam’ron (Produced By The Neptunes)
3. Kinda Like a Big Deal feat. Kanye West (Produced By DJ Khalil)
4. Showin’ Out feat. Yo Gotti Produced By The Neptunes)
5. I’m Good feat. Pharrell (Produced By The Neptunes)
6. There Was A Murder (Produced By DJ Khalil)
7. Door Man (Produced By The Neptunes)
8. Never Will It Stop feat. Ab-Liva (Produced By Sean C & LV)
9. Eyes On Me feat. Keri Hilson (Produced By The Neptunes)
10. Counseling (Produced By The Neptunes)
11. Champion (Produced By The Neptunes)
12. Footsteps (Produced By DJ Khalil)
13. Life Change (Produced By The Neptunes)
