pusha/malice vs. pharrell = "balls of fire" vs. my ob-gyn
In case you are sitting flank w/me at the nerdfest: In my original write-up for "The Clipse" (#7 Hell Hath No Fury) for Pitchfork's "Top 50 albums of 2007" feature, I had originally called Pharrell's beats "gruesome and impersonal as a speculum," however the "speculum" part was edited out. Still, I keep returning to the idea of Pharrell's beats on Hell Hath as analogous to a speculum, which is the metal gynocological instrument meant to crank open your vaginal cavity so your ob-gyn can get a look-see at the ole cervix, before taking a cotton swab, or "pap smear," to ensure your overall cervical health.
Like Pharrell's beats for Hell Hath No Fury, speculums are penetrating, cold, necessarily invasive, utterly asexual, go down a little easier if you're lubed in some way -- and, of course, somewhat gruesome and impersonal. If you have never experienced one, it is probably because you are too young, a male, or do not have health insurance, in which case I recommend hollering at Planned Parenthood because they are sliding scale.
Some models also resemble a duck or a pelican.
quack, quack
"Speculum-like" is also an accurate way to look at how The Clipse approach women on Hell Hath: with a certain clinicism and manner of distance.
Shopping, on the other hand -- whoa. Peep toe pumps, holler.
My immediate perception of the production on the record was that of stark minimalism. Compared to the busyness of other mainstream producers, like Timbaland or Just Blaze (there's almost too much stuff to wrap my little brain around on that new Jay-z), the presentation is refreshing. I'm almost always more interested in the sound, feeling, and arrangement of hip-hop - be it the production, the rapping, or a combination of the two - than I am about the lyrics. If I can't feel it in the first listen, I'm probably not going to give it 20 more chances. I couldn't rap half a verse of any hip-hop song I've ever heard - the genre just doesn't get me that way.
"Hell Hath..." is definitely rump-shakin music, don't get me wrong, but I find myself paying closer attention when all I can hang my coat on is a drum beat and a monophonic guitar line or raspy accordian vamp. There's a true art to compelling simplicity.
Been a while since you've driven around in a car, hasn't it?