Conversing with artists for a story can feel like a blind date. The interviews that go better than expected tend to be a perfect alignment of questions, comfort, and chemistry. Since that trifecta isn’t always promised, it’s best to approach interviewing how you would approach war: Wide-awake, with fear, with respect, and with the absolute assurance that it won’t go how you imagined.
Playboi Carti was running late for the interview we did for Marvin’s Magazine. The crew shooting the cover story and the magazine’s editor were all at the photo studio waiting. The editor paced around, asking every 20 minutes or so, “Is he coming?” No one but Carti’s manager seemed sure. Her confidence never wavered as thirty minutes became three hours. During that interval of anticipation, I wasn’t sure if it would happen, nothing was going as planned, but all went well once he arrived.
Not knowing if or how a story will happen is a natural part of journalism. It doesn’t stop a writer’s brain from processing the best and worst possible scenarios. One that I remember is when I was hit up to interview Pusha-T days before Arby’s released his McDonald’s diss song. The timing didn’t align schedule-wise so another writer–much love to Michael Penn II (read his profile/watch his Viewfinder)–took the golden opportunity.
With the release of Al-Dom’s Viewfinder and his Pusha-T-featured single “HAHA,” I consider how an “ideal” conversation with ½ of the peerless Clipse may have gone.
“How has your work changed as you got older,” I would’ve asked the 45-year-old rap genius. A question inspired by Brandon Stosuy’s interview with Japanese composer Ryuichi Sakamoto. I like how the inquiry encouraged Sakamoto to be retrospective on periods and phases of a career spanning four decades.
With 2023 making 26 years since the Clipse signed their first deal with Elektra Records, it’s a proper season to have Pusha or his brother No Malice get reflective. An ideal response would start with the making of Exclusive Audio Footage, the Neptune-produced album Elektra shelved when their first single, "The Funeral," didn’t produce the results the label hoped for.
“How did it feel when Eletrka dropped the Clipse following your debut? Were you disappointed? Were you discouraged? Did it affect your confidence? Did you and your brother contemplate reinventing yourselves how Mobb Deep did after 4th & B'way Records dropped them when their debut, Juvenile Hell, was ill-received?” is how I may have phrased it.
So much has to go through your mind when a 20-track album made to be an introduction becomes a detour. The beauty of detours is how it feels once you arrive at your destination. The Clipse arrived on August 20, 2002, when Star Trak and Arista Records released Lord Willin'.
“Did you know what Lord Willin' would do for the Clipse? Was it always “the one” in your mind?” would be a good question to ask on the heels of their 20th anniversary, but a better one would be, “Did you feel validated by the reception?” I assume he had to be. Not only did they create a career-launching classic, but they also did it by doubling down on their exalted hustler manifestos over a pristine pack of early 2000s Neptune production.
Compared to other street lyricists, what made the Clipse exciting for me was their prowess for precision. Their technique is fluid, not flashy, rapping with the poise of martial arts masters breaking boards. Although Pharrell likens Pusha to Arthur Fleck, the antihero in Todd Phillips Joker, I think he spiritually aligns closer with Karate Kid characters Johnny Lawrence and John Kreese of the Cobra Kai school.
Cobra Kai believes in striking first, striking hard, and doing so with no mercy. It’s apparent in Pusha’s solo work that his approach to rap has been confident, disciplined, dedicated, and merciless against ageism and adversaries. With that said, I would ask him about his philosophies on craft, rap as a martial art, and if there was a dojo dedicated to rapping like the Clipse, what would their credo be?
Although I could spend hours probing him about the Clipse and the first half of his career – a period worth three or four hours of in-depth discussion – Pusha’s second life as a solo artist is the reason why he’s still doing interviews three decades later. To go from a Star Trak Entertainment signee to President of G.O.O.D Music and everything that happened in-between has felt like watching the silent progress of a conquerer still finding new ground to cover.
With his latest album, It’s Almost Dry, being championed as one of the best rap releases in 2022, one has to believe Pusha-T as a remarkable example of longevity and legacy building. To have songs with Lil Uzi Vert and Fabolous, Tyler, The Creator and JAY-Z, Chief Keef and Kendrick Lamar touches different ages, eras, and audiences. “How do you survive the times?” I would ask him toward the end of our talk.
Some of the miscellaneous questions that would be worth sneaking in:
The most difficult sample to clear?
The hardest verse to complete?
Which album gave you the most sleepless nights?
Any career regrets?
Most memorable recording sessions?
But if I had to ask only one question, it would be, “If given a blank check to resurrect Star Trak with two rappers and a producer, who would you sign?” I would follow up by asking about his views on artist development and what tips he would give artists wanting to follow the progress necessary to evolve from a pigeonholed debut like Exclusive Audio Footage to reach the excellence of It’s Almost Dry.
Maybe the chance to ask some of these will come with the 20th anniversary of Lord Willin' being a month away, or maybe the chance will never come, but it’s nice to dream. As a consolation here are some Pusha T interviews worth reading:
-Yoh