The Neptunes - The Neptunes & Star Trak Present Clones (Star Trak/Arista)

Vibe.com, August 5th, 2003

Once most people get a taste for the champagne lifestyle, they’re terrified to go back to Bud. That’s why this compilation is so fascinating: Chad Hugo and Pharrell Williams remain defiantly oddball, despite their immense commercial success. This will come as no surprise to fans of the Neptunes’ giddy, geeky, 2002 debut, In Search of…, released under the name N.E.R.D. But that effort sold just 600,000 copies, a blip in comparison to the more than 50 million in sales they’ve racked up as producers for the likes of Snoop, ’N Sync, and Jay-Z. The album is a tapestry of reggae, rock, jazz, gospel, and pop, loosely assembled on the duo’s signature bass-and-rim-shot skeleton. The term “skeleton” is especially apt here—like recent Neptunes-produced hits (such as Clipse’s “Grindin’”), most of these tracks are stripped to their bare bones. “Frontin’,” featuring Jay-Z, sounds like something Prince might have done if he’d had an editor and a sense of humor. With just a snippet of synth and two monolithic bass notes pounding their way through the verse and chorus, the Neptunes prove that when there’s space in music, listeners fill in the blanks. “Light Your Ass on Fire” leaves less to the imagination. In this gratuitous ode to the badoonka donk, Busta Rhymes manages to use the word “ass” no less than 17 times while, conversely, the cavernous electro beat proves that less is more. Clones’ most underproduced moment, however, comes on “This Beat Is Hot,” which is nothing but vocals over a kick, rim shot, and a “Paul Revere”–style backward sound effect. The minimal arrangement puts the onus on the emceeing, but sadly, Rosco P.

Coldchain and Clipse’s combined talents do not sustain interest for the entire song. However, on “Pop Shit,” Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s first official recording since his prison release, the artist now known as Dirt McGirt serves a frenzy of pent-up word salad, leaving almost no room for silence, much less for taking a breath. What’s refreshing here and elsewhere on Clones is that the Neptunes have begun to integrate the kooky experimentalism of N.E.R.D. into more high-profile collaborations. The backing track for “Pop Shit,” for example, is built around just three chords, looped over and over; they’re crudely insistent in a way that’s more punk than pop. Pharrell’s falsetto vocals on the chorus suggest George Clinton after one too many helium balloons. The album’s least intriguing cuts are its most ordinary: “Sweet Lies,” featuring Usher, is a straight-ahead love song, while Vanessa Marquez, a 21-year-old Mexican-American, contributes “Good Girl.” Both are inoffensive pop-R&B tunes that are remarkable mainly for being so un-revolutionary. Super Cat’s “Don of Dons,” on the other hand, is powerfully weird, the first dancehall track to feature both Foxy Brown and an accordion. It exemplifies Clones’ greatest strength—its audacity. But N.E.R.D.’s “Loser” is the album’s most bizarre song. It sounds something like a Frank Zappa parody of new wave. “We will not be the losers / We won’t leave till our job is done,” the Neptunes shout. Theirs is a proclamation of defiance and eccentricity, a gesture that proves the ’Tunes are entirely comfortable operating without a safety net. This time, some of pop’s finest join them and take the leap.