The best beats on LGSEO are the ones that just do old Neptunes at half-speed. You know, the click-clack of the percussion on “All Things Considered,” the blast of apocalyptic synths with an eerie Hell Hath No Fury edge on “Let God Sort Em Out/Chandeliers,” which gets cut off for a tediously triumphant beat switch so Nas can do Nas. Also, “E.B.I.T.D.A.,” which is a little funky, with its spaced-out In My Mind sparkle. The whimsical touch of the beat opens up Clipse’s imagination. “I’m sleepwalkin’ y’all don’t dream enough/My third passport I ain’t seen enough,” raps Push. One of the elements that separated the duo from the million rappers getting off coke punchlines on Smack DVDs was that their realism was matched by the head-in-the-clouds spirit of a kid looking through the bins at a record store for the first time. The cosmic Neptunes beats were big in getting them there, but Pharrell’s newfound opulence flattens that side of them.

In the past, Pharrell’s personality came through in beats that could be funny, like the tongue-click of “Drop It Like It’s Hot,” or weird, such as the droning hyphy of “Mr. Me Too.” Now, he has this efficient professionalism, a way of making music that aims to satisfy Clipse fans who are just happy to see him and the boys back together again. Let God Sort Em Out coasts on the history they share with each other and with us, settling for good enough. Every now and then on the album, you’ll hear this tag telling us that the music is “culturally inappropriate.” I wish it actually was.

What’s clear is that Pharrell’s heart isn’t in it, the same way Pusha and Malice’s hearts aren’t in their disses. “You cried in front of me, you died in front of me/Calabasas took your bitch and your pride in front of me,” raps Pusha, seemingly disgusted at the thought of Travis Scott on “So Be It.” But Clipse are a feeling, and I don’t feel that they really care that much about what Travis, or Kanye, or, uh, Jim Jones have going on.

This is all a distraction from what Pusha and Malice actually do well: rap. It’s no question that they’ve still got love for the form and that their brotherhood is tied deeply to the genre. I think of “M.T.B.T.T.F.,” one of the rare Pharrell beats with oomph, where they both whip out an a capella flow that channels everyone from Biggie to Kool G Rap. It’s high on their usual lyrical theatrics, but they’re not trying too hard to grab headlines. “You niggas is screenwriters, we dreamwriters/Took chains and touched change like King Midas,” raps Malice from the gut. Just Pusha and Malice getting sinister and mythic over a hard beat. I’ll take that.