Pusha T - The ride of the cocaine cowboy

This is my time, this is my hour

This is my pain, this is my name, this is my power

If it's my reign, then it's my shower

This pole position, I made a lane ‘cause they blocked ours

Moreover, with these street themes presented through a lavish aesthetic, underscored by layered, solemn production, Pusha T also places himself within the trap movement of the time, more hedonistic and glittering than the one launched years earlier by T.I..

This self-glorifying opening is followed by a creative, hypnotic track like "Numbers On The Board", with a mechanical, cacophonous production seasoned with sampled screams and demented chants. The opening trio closes with a pop-rap featuring Chris Brown, "Sweet Serenade", which recalls Kanye West's sophisticated productions: a minimal beat made evocative by ghostly choirs, a chorus sung in spectral tones, and verses in which Pusha T alternates a dark, bitter flow with angrier bursts.

The rest of the tracklist makes room to explore the melancholy side of this criminal life, in "Hold On" and in the atmospheric, emotional "40 Acres", whose chorus despairingly declares "I'd rather die, than go home" and closes with a clear political reference to American slavery: it's the most elaborate facet of his rap persona, one that also connects with emo-rap in the years when that style was about to go mainstream (it would essentially become emo-pop-rap by the end of the decade, with artists like Post Malone, after passing through the successes of Drake and Future).

This melancholy shade closes the album, in the curious balancing act of "S.N.I.T.C.H.", with a blues chorus and hints of trap used to tell the story of a friend who decides to become an informant. The tension running through the song is well captured by the mournful repetition of the chorus sung by Pharrell Williams, an ideal transposition of a phone call received by Pusha T:

Sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home

Sorry, nigga, I’m tryna come home

Well, the walls are talkin’ to me and I know you think I’m wrong

But, sorry, nigga, I’m tryna come home, hey!

In a stroke of production brilliance, the voice ends up afflicted with a suspicious echo, suggesting that the phone call in question is being listened to by some cop (“Now when the phone start to clickin', your words start to echo”). Nottz's production on “Nosetalgia”, built around a razor-sharp electric guitar, with Kendrick Lamar, is instead the occasion for a devastating one-two punch on the mic between two exceptional rappers: it's one of the songs that lives up to the ambition heard in the opener and gives the impression of witnessing a coronation.

Despite a few lesser tracks (the minimal “Suicide”; the duet with Kelly Rowland on “Let Me Love You”; the muddled trap of “Who I Am” and “Pain”) My Name Is My Name (2013) is the first real confirmation of Pusha T's talent as a solo artist, after a few mixtapes and a non-album album that hinted at his potential without fully delivering it. What weighs it down is an overabundance of guest features and production, which often draws attention away from the headlining protagonist — an ironic flaw for an album so strongly built around identity, starting with its title.

Shortly after, Pusha T announces in an interview the arrival of his second official album, King Push – Darkest Before Dawn: The Prelude (2015), once again under the protective wing of Kanye West and with an even more imposing array of guests and, above all, producers: The-Dream, Kanye West, ASAP Rocky, Ab-Liva, Beanie Sigel, Kehlani and Jill Scott step up to the mic; then Baauer, Deafh Beats, Boi-1da, Donald Davidson, Frank Dukes, G Koop, Honorable C.N.O.T.E., Hudson Mohawke, J. Cole, Mario Winans, Metro Boomin, Milli Beatz, Nashiem Myrick, Q-Tip, Sean C & LV, The-Dream, Timbaland, Yung Dev and, of course, once again, Kanye West.

In theory, it's meant to be a preview of the third album, Daytona, which was supposed to be titled "King Push": hence the prelude of the title. The challenge is to keep the hard, gangsta, nineties spirit intact while balancing it with synth-laden productions and layered arrangements. The impact of this sound is physical, while the lyrics once again showcase Pusha T's exhilarated and exhilarating storytelling, which, knowing his own strengths, he decides to release some of in advance on the world's most famous hip-hop lyrics site, Genius.

On the single “Untouchable”, which samples Notorious B.I.G., he demonstrates this ability to be arrogant and refined at the same time:

Yuugh, I drops every blue moon

To separate myself from you kings of the YouTube

I am more U2, I am like Bono with the Edge

Between pop-rap hooks worthy of peak Kanye West, as on “M.F.T.R.”, and stylish exercises in hardcore hip-hop polished by Jay-Z-style flair like “Crutches, Crosses, Caskets”, it's clear that with this album Pusha T is aiming to establish himself as a first-rate rapstar, one who can aspire to global, crossover success.

Also on the menu is an oddity like “Got Em Covered” (feat. Ab-Liva), also written by the aforementioned Jay-Z and produced by Timbaland and Milli Beatz, chasing a punchy, crackling rhythm.

But if King Push shows a rapper in top form, its limitation lies precisely in this desire to hit multiple targets without developing a broader statement, aesthetically and narratively.

Across ten tracks and 33 minutes total, what you hear is a grandiose trailer parading famous names and spectacular productions, without anything more fully realized ever arriving — a set of songs with the credentials of a work that defines an era, even within its own genre. Much of Pusha T's enormous potential still seems unexpressed, even stifled by expectations and over-production.

What follows is a third album that flips the structure of King Push on its head: where that one pompously announced an album that would never arrive, overflowing with guests and producers, Daytona (2018) takes the route of a minimal tracklist, hands the entire production over to Kanye West and limits guest appearances. It's not exactly a humble album, but rather a more focused and coherent one. At its center, more than anything else, is Pusha T.

On the first of just seven tracks spread across a mere 21 minutes total, “If You Know You Know”, the rapper starts dropping rhymes over a skeletal beat, before sub-bass and a vocal sample round out the arrangement: it's a reversal of roles, with the rap remaining the protagonist and driving the track, while the production — eccentric as it is, with chipmunk snippets — stays in service of Pusha T.

The brass-laced blues of “The Games We Play” shifts the sonic context but keeps spotlighting the host's mic skills, locked into a stream of rhymes that never bothers with hooks, all delivered with striking density. “Hard Piano” eases off the gas a touch, featuring Rick Ross and a soul hook standing in as the chorus, but “Come Back Baby” snaps back to pure rap focus: the verses are broken up by vintage interludes, cut off abruptly as if by radio interference.

The masterpiece is the gothic-Latin prayer of “Santeria”, marked by a cursed electric-guitar melody and a dark gospel surge that rips through the track's center. The contrast between Pusha T's geometric rhyming and the sinuous vocal lines of 070 Shake is stark; in the second half, following a logic that owes something even to prog-rock, the two souls merge.

Daytona is hailed by critics and fans alike as one of the year's finest albums. Staying firmly rooted in hip-hop culture, and spinning around the drug themes so dear to the trap sound currently in vogue (Italy included), it manages to stand out and cement Pusha T's status as one of the scene's biggest names. It turns up among the year's favorites in numerous magazines and webzines, and climbs high in national charts from Norway to Canada by way of the United States.

It's a winning formula, the one on Daytona, and the fourth album, It’s Almost Dry (2022), refines and expands it: production duties are split between Kanye West and Pharrell Williams; there are twelve tracks, with a density similar to the previous album; the guest list grows without sidelining Pusha T as the star (Kanye West, Jay-Z, Pharrell Williams, Kid Cudi, Lil Uzi Vert, Don Toliver, Nigo, Labrinth, and even the return of Malice).

The dark synth of “Brambleton” and the throbbing bass of “Let The Smokers Shine The Coupes”, an adrenaline-fueled southern-hip-hop missile, kick off the tracklist in style. Not only do Pharrell Williams's two productions leave room for the rapper, but the absence of guest features also helps maintain that focus that made Daytona so exceptional.

“Dreamin Of The Past” works a lot less well, mainly because instead of a minimal beat, or at least one suited to letting the voice and rhymes shine, Kanye West drops in a sample at an absurdly loud volume; even when he steps up to the mic himself, he drains energy from the track rather than adding to it.

That said, the album never slides into mediocrity: the dark trap of “Neck And Wrist”, produced by Pharrell Williams and featuring a superb Jay-Z, as well as the hypnotic tribal rhythm of “Just So You Remember”, by Kanye West, are tracks of real impact, where Pusha T adds plenty of lines to the collection of his career's most memorable rhymes, such as:

The purest snow, we sellin’ white privilege

Designer drugs will turn niggas limitless

Designer clothes, these hoes losing innocence

The book of blow, just know I’m the Genesis

West himself goes back to more minimal solutions (the music-box sound of “Diet Coke”, the unsettling, off-key melody of “Hear Me Clearly”), which prove ideal for the rapper once again (the same goes for “Call My Bluff” or the obsessive “Hear Me Clearly” and the nineties-style of “Open Air”). To close, “I Pray For You” aims high, echoing “Santeria”, offering up a majestic gospel with a deafening organ, a kind of contradiction in musical form.

It’s Almost Dry becomes Pusha T's first album to debut at number one at home, confirming the audience's approval as well. The feat is all the more striking considering this is a rapper well past the age of 45.

Born Again in Christ: (No?) Malice Goes Solo (2010-2022)

Alongside Pusha T, Malice also launches a solo career in 2010. More than the music, though, the starting point of this journey is a personal story: Gene Elliott Thornton Jr. converts to Christianity, as he recounts in his book “Wretched, Pitiful, Poor, Blind & Naked”, and decides to change his name in light of it, from Malice to No Malice.

Religion becomes the central theme of his albums: Hear Ye Him (2013) drops the old aggressive style in favor of a biblical message, though unfortunately with second-rate production and little real creativity; things don't improve with Let The Dead Bury The Dead (2017) either, shorter and perhaps less inspired, which effectively brings his solo career to a close.

When he returns on his brother's It’s Almost Dry in 2022, he's credited as Malice, leaving fans to wonder whether his years of religious fervor have, in some way, come to an end.

Family Reunion: The Return of Clipse

This is culturally inappropriate

A comeback so long awaited it had started to seem impossible: that of the Thornton brothers. After the aforementioned cameo on Kanye West's “Use This Gospel,” 2019 brought features on a track by Japanese deejay Nigo and on Pusha T's solo album “It's Almost Dry” (both from 2022). “Birds Don't Sing,” a new track under the Clipse name after 15 years, arrives in June 2024; it's followed by the announcement of the new album's title and a few juicy details: it will be called “Let God Sort Em Out,” production is entirely in the hands of Pharrell Williams, and the label is the legendary Def Jam. As if that weren't enough, names of potential guests start circulating: a list enough to make any hip-hop fan's head spin, featuring heavyweights like Nas and Kendrick Lamar. Then come further delays, due to the fact that Def Jam itself wants to censor a verse aimed at Trump. Roc Nation steps in, thus preserving the explicit, direct, aggressive lyrics, in which Pusha T seizes the chance to take aim at major names like Drake, Kanye West and Travis Scott.

The album delivers 13 songs that, in a scant 41 minutes, bring Clipse back to the scene with a synthesis of what they once were and of what their solo careers have added to the two brothers' experience. More reflective, meditative moments sit alongside many others that are far more aggressive, with lavish production and guest spots that help convey the sense of an extremely carefully crafted musical product. “The Birds Don't Sing” (featuring John Legend) recounts the pain of losing one's parents, citing Herzog's “Fitzcarraldo,” blending piano and more traditional rap with vibrant strings and a propulsive groove. Closing things out, Stevie Wonder's voice leaves behind a message of love and compassion. Four minutes, in short, are enough to outclass almost all the competition, and Clipse do it by veering away from the style that made them famous over twenty years ago.

They also prove they're still top-class on faster, livelier beats, like that of “Chains & Whips,” where Kendrick Lamar roars and bites, and that they can credibly throw themselves headfirst into an obsessive, hardcore track like “P.O.V.” (feat. Tyler, the Creator), which shifts beat for the third verse. The Arabic-tinged sample of “So Be It” and the dreamlike music-box tinkling of “E.B.I.T.D.A.” are two of the many refined details in Pharrell Williams's productions, on another track that demands to be played at full volume, like the hedonistic anthem “Ace Trumpets” and the skeletal, distorted boom bap of “M.T.B.T.F.” If you've got a few more years on your shoulders, listening to Nas's verse on “Let God Sort Em Out / Chandeliers,” the “Illmatic” genius's first-ever collaboration with Clipse, might be one of the moments to remember.

The closer, “By The Grace Of God,” ideally closes the circle opened by “The Birds Don't Sing,” bringing in further gospel elements and easing the tension for the finale, though it perhaps comes across as a bit too heavy-handed. The gangster attitude remains, and Clipse are still tied today to the aesthetic of their coke-rap, but experience has changed Malice and Pusha T as people. “Let God Sort Em Out” is a long-awaited comeback that we can call satisfying, above all because it stays true to their story without sounding self-imitative. It won't change the rules of the game, but it opens the door to a second act in Clipse's career that could bring further surprises.

A comeback so long awaited it had started to seem impossible: that of the Thornton brothers. After the aforementioned cameo on Kanye West's “Use This Gospel,” 2019 brought features on a track by Japanese deejay Nigo and on Pusha T's solo album “It's Almost Dry” (both from 2022). “Birds Don't Sing,” a new track under the Clipse name after 15 years, arrives in June 2024; it's followed by the announcement of the new album's title and a few juicy details: it will be called “Let God Sort Em Out,” production is entirely in the hands of Pharrell Williams, and the label is the legendary Def Jam. As if that weren't enough, names of potential guests start circulating: a list enough to make any hip-hop fan's head spin, featuring heavyweights like Nas and Kendrick Lamar. Then come further delays, due to the fact that Def Jam itself wants to censor a verse aimed at Trump. Roc Nation steps in, thus preserving the explicit, direct, aggressive lyrics, in which Pusha T seizes the chance to take aim at major names like Drake, Kanye West and Travis Scott.

The album delivers 13 songs that, in a scant 41 minutes, bring Clipse back to the scene with a synthesis of what they once were and of what their solo careers have added to the two brothers' experience. More reflective, meditative moments sit alongside many others that are far more aggressive, with lavish production and guest spots that help convey the sense of an extremely carefully crafted musical product. “The Birds Don't Sing” (featuring John Legend) recounts the pain of losing one's parents, citing Herzog's “Fitzcarraldo,” blending piano and more traditional rap with vibrant strings and a propulsive groove. Closing things out, Stevie Wonder's voice leaves behind a message of love and compassion. Four minutes, in short, are enough to outclass almost all the competition, and Clipse do it by veering away from the style that made them famous over twenty years ago.

They also prove they're still top-class on faster, livelier beats, like that of “Chains & Whips,” where Kendrick Lamar roars and bites, and that they can credibly throw themselves headfirst into an obsessive, hardcore track like “P.O.V.” (feat. Tyler, the Creator), which shifts beat for the third verse. The Arabic-tinged sample of “So Be It” and the dreamlike music-box tinkling of “E.B.I.T.D.A.” are two of the many refined details in Pharrell Williams's productions, on another track that demands to be played at full volume, like the hedonistic anthem “Ace Trumpets” and the skeletal, distorted boom bap of “M.T.B.T.F.” If you've got a few more years on your shoulders, listening to Nas's verse on “Let God Sort Em Out / Chandeliers,” the “Illmatic” genius's first-ever collaboration with Clipse, might be one of the moments to remember.

The closer, “By The Grace Of God,” ideally closes the circle opened by “The Birds Don't Sing,” bringing in further gospel elements and easing the tension for the finale, though it perhaps comes across as a bit too heavy-handed. The gangster attitude remains, and Clipse are still tied today to the aesthetic of their coke-rap, but experience has changed Malice and Pusha T as people. “Let God Sort Em Out” is a long-awaited comeback that we can call satisfying, above all because it stays true to their story without sounding self-imitative. It won't change the rules of the game, but it opens the door to a second act in Clipse's career that could bring further surprises.