I'm in total awe of Clipse 's Hell Hath No Fury, the duo's long-delayed second album (which Jessica Hopper wrote about this week; the "Everly Brothers of trap rap" open for Lil Wayne this Saturday). Endless rapping about slinging ‘caine and owning Louis Vuitton ain’t my thing, but Malice and Pusha T are inventive enough and have more than enough street charisma to make it all seem strangely compelling. The way Pusha T juggles braggadocio and paranoia on “Nightmares” is par for the course:
I make big money, drive big cars
Everybody know me, it's like I'm a movie star
Virginia nights, selling hard white
To sellin’ out shows, every gangsta love my flow
Still I creep low, thinking niggers trying to harm me
Hoping my karma ain't coming back here to haunt me
Was it that nigga, I took his powder with a smile
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The ultra-minimal production on this is blowing my mind. Who else in popular music would dare do something so stark and minimal, it's almost like it was produced by Ryoji Ikeda. And the delivery is so dense, in contrast. Amazing.