Album Review: Clipse- Hell Hath no Fury (vinyl reissue)
“The Vinyl Reissue”
The mere expression alone fills me with mixed emotions:
interest and excitement because I’m basically like SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY,
but also disdain because OH MAN YOU HIPSTERS AND YOUR VINYL REISSUES. YOU’LL
BUY ANY ALBUM IF IT’S BEING REISSUED ON VINYL. WHAT A CASH GRAB.
And yet, I am part of the problem. The very minute I saw the
email go out from Get On Down saying they were reissuing Hell Hath No Fury by Clipse, I let out an audible sound from my
cubicle in the newsroom and pulled my wallet from my pocket to BUY IT THAT VERY
MOMENT.
Not really celebrating any milestone, like a 10th
anniversary, or anything like that—coming eight years after its initial
release, and available FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME ON VINYL, Get on Down (the Criterion
Collection of hip-hop, if you will) chose now to reissue Hell Hath no Fury on limited edition white vinyl.
Why now? Well ask them “why now” when in 2011 they released
the reissue of Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s Return
to The 36 Chambers, or in 2012 with the “chess set” resissue of Liquid Swords, or the “gold edition” of Illmatic. It’s always a good time to cash in on
people’s love of classic hip-hop.
The fact that it’s on white vinyl is both a joke, and
something to make it better than standard vinyl releases. The joke being, of
course, that it’s THE GREATEST COKE RAP RECORD EVER MADE so why wouldn’t it be
pressed on white wax?
If the whole thing were made out of crack rock, it wouldn’t
even surprise me really.
I’ll be the first to admit that I was extraordinarily late
to the party with Clipse—primarily discovering the now defunct brotherly duo
after Pusha T’s solo success from last year. I think I seem to recall the day
that Hell Hath no Fury leaked
online—the album had been delayed for years—and the Internet was collectively
shitting itself. Pitchfork gave it a glowing 9+ review, but in 2006, I was less
interested in hip-hop music than I am now. I think I tried listening to it
once, but it just wasn’t my time.
Hell Hath no Fury
as an album captures both the brothers Thornton at their artistic peak, and the
production of the Neptunes at its height—prior to the subsequent decline and
then MOR rise of Pharrell Williams in 2013 with that awful “Happy” song,
amongst other travesties.
Coming eight years later, hearing Pusha T say “They prayin’ I never go solo” on the
album’s intro track is saddening because yes, he did go solo; but also knowing
about the subsequent fallout of Pusha T and his brother Malice (later No
Malice) makes it extra heartbreaking to hear.
Lyrically, Hell Hath
no Fury is beyond clever, incredibly dark and violent, and is capable of
being funny as hell at times—often all in one breath, “They call it crack, I call it ‘diet coke,’” being one of the punch
lines that comes to mind right away.
Throughout Hell Hath
no Fury, you can start to hear the regret in Malice’s life choices. The
elder Thornton, Gene, famously chose God over Clipse in the wake of their
maligned 2009 album ‘Til The Casket Drops.
In a CNN profile from over the summer, No Malice showed unrestrained remorse
over the glamorization of the drug dealing lifestyle the brothers came from and
then later rapped about.
And yes, it does glamorize the lifestyle quite a bit. From
references to digital scales and Pyrex measuring cups, to lyrics like “While I’m shoveling this snow, man, call me
Frosty.”
But who cares? Because man this album is so fun.
The upbeat, big, and colorful but devious, slightly menacing
sounding production lends itself well to the tales the brothers Thornton tell.
And there’s really only a few clunkers on Hell
Hath no Fury—“Dirty Money” kind of kills the vibe of the nearly flawless
five-song run starting with the album’s intro track; and while “Nightmares”
isn’t so much a bad song, it’s a bit
of an odd one to close the album out on.
Also at times it comes off like an advertisement for
Pharrell’s clothing line Billionaire Boys Club, as well as for the finer things
in life like diamond encrusted Rolexes and fancy cars.
But you know that’s okay too.
Anyway, we should talk about this reissue—like the sound
quality and the packaging and shit like that, I guess.
Get on Down, bless their heart—but their reissues can be
incredibly hit or miss. The packaging of the vinyl reissue of Liquid Swords from 2011 left a little to
be desired, but it was the mastering job that needed a lot more attention;
making things louder overall doesn’t really constitute a “remastering” job on
the record. They did a fine job with the very elaborate reissues of Illmatic and with Return to The 36 Chambers.
With Hell Hath no Fury,
it sounds incredible. So kudos are due to whomever oversaw the mastering of
this for vinyl. It sounds warm and vibrant—showcasing the real depth that this
record has, that one may miss when listening to it on CD.
The gatefold sleeve it comes in however—well, eh. The
resizing of the artwork was very apparent in the degradation of the Advisory
Lyrics warning, and both the front and back LP cover photos look a little
grainy once blown up to a 12” by 12” square.
But whatever.
Within the last decade, there are very few rap records I
would consider to be “essential listening.” The golden age of the genre is long
over, but Hell Hath no Fury is an
astounding, strong artistic statement. Sadly, due to label woes, this is out of
print on CD, which is weird. So please if you have a turntable, this is worth
the investment of your time and of your $20 (plus $15 UPS shipping if you buy
direct from Get on Down. Yikes. I know.)1
1 though in their defense, when I complained
about it on Twitter, they did give me a whole box of extras with my order. Which
was nice I guess. Thanks Get on Down.
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