Hold On To Your Brother
When Clipse Reunited at Something in the Water
Clipse at Something in the Water (photo by Greg Noire)
I feel drawn to brotherhood, to the platonic and familial love that happens between men, especially Black men. The laughs we share that feel so endless like they could kill us as the breath leaves our bodies; the smiles that breathe life back into us. Life-giving love, resurrection love. Love that sometimes seems to fade but deep down we know hasn’t gone anywhere.
As an only child for almost the first 10 years of my life, I longed for brotherly love, for Black men I could fully be myself with. I didn’t get a blood brother until I was 10 and primarily had women in my life on a daily basis.
On Saturday night, Elizabeth and I watched on Prime Video as Pharrell took the stage at his Something in the Water music festival in Washington, D.C. It’s been said about Virginia, just across the Potomac River from D.C. and the home state of Pharrell and his predecessors, including Chad Hugo of The Neptunes, Timbaland, and Missy Elliott, that there’s “something in the water”—something that transformed a whole era of popular music in the early 2000s.
Pharrell, who helped craft much of that music alongside Hugo, played a number of these songs to kick off his Something in the Water set with the help of a troupe of Black dancers. And then he welcomed Justin Timberlake to the stage to perform a selection of songs they worked on together over the years.
As is the case with many of the artists who graced the stage at Something in the Water, Justin Timberlake’s still got it. Elizabeth and I were locked in. And then in the midst of JT and Pharrell performing “Like I Love You” from Timberlake’s debut solo album Justified, what I thought was just Pusha T came to the stage only to realize he was with Malice (also known as No Malice) marking the return of Clipse, the legendary rap duo made up of Virginia natives and real-life brothers Gene and Terrence Thornton.
Now, let me say a few things about Clipse. They are one of my all-time favorite rap duos. As a kid, I remember hearing their collaboration with Birdman, “What Happened To That Boy,” on the radio and not knowing who Clipse was, or that they were featured on the song, but absolutely loving it. As I got older, I heard songs of theirs like “Grindin’” and “Mr. Me Too” and knew they were something special. Then, before I really had time to rock with Clipse through an album cycle, Pusha T went solo, teaming up with Kanye West on Kanye’s comeback track, “Runaway,” and then eventually on his label G.O.O.D. Music, which Pusha T would go on to be the president of.
Around this time, I had also started to engage more with evangelical Christianity—which interestingly aligned with Malice changing his name to No Malice due to his deepened dedication to Christianity and no longer feeling like his former rap name reflected his new convictions. All I had left were Clipse’s old records, YouTube freestyles like this classic OnDaSpot freestyle for Invasion Radio, and the occasional collaboration like “Shame the Devil” on No Malice’s debut solo album Hear Ye Him.
But nearly 10 years later, I finally got to watch on TV as Pusha T and Malice took the stage as Clipse yet again. The energy shifted in the crowd.
This was a moment. And Pusha T, the little brother, was all smiles.
Over the years, in interviews, folks would ask Pusha T when the next Clipse record was dropping, when the duo was getting back together, and Push would always say something to the effect of, “Whenever my brother is ready.” Pusha T always wanted a Clipse reunion—spoken like a true little brother.
I think about my little brother over the years, and, whenever I would visit, he was the one always chomping at the bit—whether it be to go outside and play basketball, hit the TV room and play Madden, 2K, you name it. He was ready.
I was always a little more hesitant. “Are you sure?… But it’s hot… I’m tired…” And still I would always end up doing whatever it was he wanted to do. And of course it was fun. And of course we ended up going hard, walking back in the house pouring sweat and me looking for the nearest Advil.
Malice always felt like the most hesitant Clipse member, the one who spent more time considering the consequences and morality of his and his brother’s words and actions. But there’s something about when your little brother asks you to play.
I was recently listening to an interview where Pusha T was talking about two of Clipse’s collaboration tracks from this year—“Punch Bowl” from Nigo’s album I Know NIGO! and “I Pray For You” from Pusha T’s new album It’s Almost Dry—and the interviewer asked him how he got Malice to agree to join him for those songs. Pusha’s T’s answer was simple: “I just asked him.”
It’s that simple, because Malice is still Pusha T’s brother. They’re still bound together by blood and Malice’s words on “Grindin’”:
“My grind’s ‘bout family, never been about fame
From days I wasn’t able, there was always ‘caine”
An obvious drug reference, an art form Clipse helped pave the road for nearly 20 years ago with the release of their debut studio album Lord Willin’, and also an acknowledgement that they’ve always had each other and will always need each other.
On the main stage at Something in the Water, it was clear: Pusha T & Malice need each other. While Pusha T has had a phenomenal solo career and the two have always been able to get their bars off individually, Pusha T’s smile as Malice rapped spoke to a sense that rapping wasn’t as fun without his big brother. And Malice, who seemed a little reluctant to step to center stage, was brought more and more into the spotlight by Pusha T’s, well, pushing.
Malice began to rap louder, more confidently, sinking into the moment deeper and deeper. And from where I sat hundreds of miles away in Columbus, Ohio, I felt the love. Although they didn’t perform it, I could hear No Malice’s words on Kanye’s “Use This Gospel”:
“Just hold on to your brother when his faith lost”
Malice has always seemed to have a genuine, loving concern about the path him and his little brother might go down because of the decisions they had made and the harm they had caused over the years—a sticking by Pusha T’s side even though they’ve chosen to go down different paths.
And Pusha T has stuck by his big brother—continuing to urge Malice that the world needs his words, that the rap game needs Clipse making music again.
And I think about my own loss of faith and how the love for my little brother has brought me home time and time again, wanting to be with him, to keep growing together.
It’s that same love that got Clipse on stage in the summer of 2022 across the river from their home state of Virginia, alongside their early collaborator Pharrell, the one who suggested they should become a rap duo, dazzling us yet again, reminding us as Malice did on “Nightmares,” the closing track on their second studio album Hell Hath No Fury, that “brotherly love is sacred”—and we are blessed.
