Apparently, Death Grips are from Sacramento. From the sounds of their, shockingly, major label debut, The Money Store, I could have sworn they came from the type of post-apocalyptic shit-hole found in Alfonso Cuarón’s Children of Men. They barely sound of America, let alone Earth. Stefan Burnett aka MC Ride’s rap stylings (read: yelling in your face) missed the boat on the last 30 years of rap’s vocal trends, Zach Hill’s math/indie rock drumming roots hit harder than any drum machine, and Andy Morin aka Flatlander’s production is from a class of industrial/futurist noise barrage, full of sirens, hydraulic presses, & revving engines, I’ve not heard since Dizzee Rascal. They have about as much business being associated with modern rap as they do being on a major label.
If that desciption sounds like a headache and a half, believe me, I understand. Death Grips aren’t an easy band to pitch. But hearing their refusal to respect the boundaries of hardcore punk, rap, industrial, house, and even jazz is the sonic equivalent of a particle collider—the results on The Money Store are bizarre and fascinating and aggressively catchy.
Opener “Get Got” is deceptively “laid back” in comparison to the following 12 tracks (at least vocally) but even it has a propulsive, jazzy high-hat ride and a druggy, stream-of-consciousness that buck traditional categorization. “Double Helix” samples a club diva’s moan after Burnett proclaims on the chorus “so you really wanna know about (double helix)”, whatever that means, before the breakneck track hurtles into a slowed-down, psychedlic wormhole of a sample only to be spit out back into the chaos after a few seconds. Closing track “Hacker” starts out with drumline snares rat-a-tatting and boasts “[Lady] Gaga can’t handle this shit”. “I’ve Seen Footage” is about the closest thing The Money Store has to a single but Burnett’s garbled shouts are so in your face and Hill & Morin’s production so warped, I can’t imagine it getting airplay in a million years.
On paper, Death Grips are intriguing in the way a freak show might be but never does it sound appealing. Getting caught up in The Money Store’s whirlwind storm of aimless outbursts and head-splitting collages is another matter altogether and one I found all too easy to succumb to. As one might expect from a band that acts like they have a ticking time-bomb strapped to their chest, Death Grips is already in the studio working on their second album, No Love, due in the fall. When prolific is thrown into the mix with unique, genre-defying, and fearless, you get the stuff of legend.
