Clipse - Victoria Warehouse, Manchester - Live Review
There are some shows that feel like an alignment of timing, place, and legacy - and Clipse’s return to Manchester on Monday night was exactly that. The Virginia duo have spent years existing somewhere between myth and cult classic, revered by fans who never stopped hoping for a full reunion. With Let God Sort ’Em Out, their first album in 15 years and easily the most critically acclaimed of their career, the brothers finally stepped back into the spotlight with something far more compelling than nostalgia. Monday’s show proved that beyond any doubt.
Victoria Warehouse, with its stripped-back concrete walls and no-frills openness, felt like the right setting for their brand of unvarnished, razor-sharp rap. No theatrics, no unnecessary gloss - just two artists who chose longevity and craft over chasing a fleeting mainstream moment. The atmosphere before the show even began felt charged, almost reverent, as fans filtered in wearing everything from old Hell Hath No Fury tees to brand new tour merch.
As the lights fell, a short film of cryptic footage and fragmented phrases appeared on the screens - an aesthetic pulled straight from the new album’s world. The repeated warning, “This is culturally inappropriate”, rang out across the room before the opening thud of Chains and Whips cut through. Pusha T emerged first, sliding into the hook with total control, his voice crisp and commanding. Malice followed moments later, stepping into the light to a roar that felt years in the making.
What struck immediately was how effortless their chemistry still is. The duo feel simultaneously like rap in its most stripped-back form and rap as high art: sharp, articulate, and intensely focused. Both brothers deliver with a precision that slices through Pharrell’s minimalist production - cold drums, skeletal melodies - with clarity and a cool, unforced presence. Every verse felt weighted, every line deliberate.
The setlist moved between the new record’s darker, more reflective moments and the duo’s early 2000s classics that shaped an entire generation. Grindin’ triggered the expected eruption - generations of fans, some who once copied the beat on school tables, others discovering the group for the first time through this reunion, shouting every word back at them.
But the night’s emotional centre came from Malice. His return, after stepping away from the industry for over a decade, added a layer of depth to the performance that could not be fabricated. Hearing him and Pusha trade verses again - equal parts icy and introspective - felt like watching history reassemble itself in real time. Whatever paths they took individually, together they remain electric.
By the time the final track faded and the brothers stood side by side soaking in the applause, it was clear that this was more than just a comeback tour. It was a reminder of what made Clipse so revered in the first place: uncompromising craft, unmistakable identity, and a refusal to dilute anything for the sake of commercial comfort.
In a genre that moves faster than ever, Clipse proved in Manchester that true longevity is built on quality, not noise. They left the stage to a crowd that knew it had witnessed something rare - a group returning not as a legacy act, but as artists who still have more to say, and the sharpness to say it.
Photograph: Cian Moore ©