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Clipse: Let God Sort Em Out review | Alexis Petridis's album of the week

Scathing disses, star guests, inspired Pharrell beats and great lines from chilling to laugh-out-loud: the duo’s first album since 2009 is so much more than the drama around it

Said skills might be even more striking in 2025, because their stock in trade – vivid storytelling, technical brilliance made to seem effortless – has, aside from the occasional figure such as Lamar or Doechii, little purchase in current mainstream hip-hop, dominated as it is by vibe creators such as Playboi Carti or Future rather than genuine wordsmiths. The horn riff of Inglorious Bastards is warped into a daring atonality; the gospel samples on So Far Ahead jar thrillingly with the dragging beat and low-rent synthesiser buzz; the Indian vocals and strings behind So Be It Pt II are enough even to distract attention from Pusha T’s forthright views on Travis Scott. The album’s one sonic misstep is opener The Birds Don’t Sing, its big John Legend-sung chorus venturing into a poppy commerciality that sits awkwardly with Clipse’s USP, but the track is redeemed by its lyrics, a depiction of the near-simultaneous deaths of the brothers’ parents that rains one emotional blow after another on the listener: “The way you missed mama, I guess I should have known / Chivalry ain’t dead, you ain’t let her go alone.” It’s new emotional territory for Clipse, who up to now didn’t really do vulnerable, and proof that Let God Sort Em Out offers far more than nostalgia: familiar but fresh, it’s one of the albums of the year.

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