Pusha T and Malice are on top of the world, and they know it.
Clipse’s return album after 16 years away, “Let God Sort Em Out,” arrived this summer like a rainstorm after a drought. Every slick punchline Malice made in a song and every abrasive statement Pusha T made in an interview was met with ferocious acclaim. The once proclaimed "favorite rapper’s favorite rappers" are not so secret anymore.
This was clear when I saw the legendary duo in concert this summer in their home state of Virginia. Early in the show, they unleashed the Pharrell Williams- and Cam’ron-featured “Popular Demand (Popeyes).” It is a statement song about their legacy, which is even more relevant 16 years later. The crowd cheered with every repeat of the main refrain: “I’m back by popular demand.” And they were.
Surprisingly, despite the extensive back catalog of fan favorites, it was the songs from the new album that went over best throughout the night. While classics such as their feature on the 2002 track “What Happened to That Boy” and their 2006 song “Mr. Me Too” were met with general excitement from the crowd, the new songs were ravenously received. This is a testament to the quality of “Let God Sort Em Out,” one of the best rap albums of the decade. “M.T.B.T.T.F” and “F.I.C.O.” enraptured the crowd, who hung onto every word and the one-two punch of the advance singles from the new album, “Ace Trumpets” and “So Be It,” also went down a storm.
The brothers moved around the stage slowly, taking time to point and stare at the many in the crowd rapping along word for word. They were patient throughout the performance, often standing silently for multiple beats or leaving the stage in between songs. They were not scared to make the audience wait or to stand and bathe in the applause.
And they took their time to get to the highlight of the concert, the performance of album opener “The Birds Don’t Sing,” which closed the main set. For the first time all night, the crowd fell silent, not rapping along but listening to the brothers’ heartfelt tribute to their deceased mother and father while watching the pictures of their parents displayed on the screen behind them.
Clipse are simply above-average performers but would definitely not be characterized as ‘show stoppers.’ The roughly 50-year-olds were not exceptionally energetic, and the crowd, which largely matched the performers’ age, was certainly not rowdy. It was not the loudest venue I’d been in and there were definitely a few empty seats in the house.
Instead, the night was special because of what it represented. In an age of music designed for instant gratification, Clipse fans had waited nearly two decades for their newest albums. Their music is intended to be listened to, not as background music, but with an eager ear. The night was special because everyone was ecstatic to be there, to finally hear music they cared about getting its due, even if it felt long overdue.
The acoustics of the venue were horrific, the parking was a joke and the concert started late but no one cared: Clipse were back.
