Death Grips have been making a strong and confrontational statement in music since their inception. Zach Hill (Former drummer extraordinaire for Hella), Stefan "MC Ride" Burnett, and Andy "Flatlander" Morin have been making caustic rap punk that always leaves first-time listeners at a loss for words. Their self-described "accelerated music" contains samples that range from "Up The Beach" by Jane's Addiction, "Rise Above" by Black Flag, "Brass Monkey" by the Beastie Boys, and "Interstellar Overdrive" and "Astronomy Domine" by Pink Floyd. They have even sampled Venus Williams' serve grunt. With heavy distortion, her yell fits well with the other eclectic found pieces throughout Death Grips' repertoire. Niggas On The Moon is part of a double LP titled The Powers That B. All songs feature distorted millisecond vocal samples from Icelandic singer, Bjork. The album is just what we expect from Death Grips, the unexpected.
Niggas On The Moon begins with "Up My Sleeve," a hauntingly mid-paced orgy of static, feedback, and industrial instrumentals. MC Ride begins chanting the mantra “up my sleeve” that contain heavy satanic ritual undertones. MC Ride yells “tsk tsk tsk / my terra cotta army/ dis-arms me / dis-arms me / awesome / awesome / awesome” which is as ambiguously provocative as it gets. His vocals are primitive, raw, and seemingly unfiltered. The fragmentation is not only apparent in the liner notes but their instrumentals. Steely synths, digitally distorted drums, and schizophrenic songwriting characterize every single one of these new tracks.
Death Grips have always been known to follow the beat of their own drum, but on this latest effort, their intensely disjointed nature has become more familiar. “Billy Not Really” is a semi-catchy panflute filled second track. Bjork’s reverb soaked vocals create a harmonious melody over percussion that’s played at a frenetic place. “Black Quarterback” is a galloping death rap track that begs to be understood. Death Grips give us “art” as music. Niggas On The Moon is an amalgamation of surreal industrial rap and also one of Death Grips more dense albums.
“Have a Sad Cum” relentlessly attacks the listener with pounding drums, chopped and screwed samples of MC Ride’s vocals and sharp synths. What it lacks in hooks, it makes up for in intricacies. Every sampled word sounds intergalactic, vague, and angry. By the time you end up getting to “Fuck Me Out,” Death Grips’ tried and true formula for their take on glitch rap begins to lose steam. The originality and inventiveness begins to wane. At this point, Death Grips seems to just be experimenting for the sake of experimentation.
“Voila” isn’t as impressive as any of Death Grips’ other material. Their loner rap was endearing at one time but we see no emotional progress with Death Grips. They have begun to be more interested in staying relevant by releasing quantity over quality. MC Ride is resorting to “oohs” and “ahhs” instead of his usually catchy growls we came to expect from Exmilitary and The Money Store. The album closer, “Big Dipper,” is the album’s saving grace. The tribal tinge hypnotizes the listener as if they were about to be inducted into a cult.The song is a nod to Death Grips’ roots, but it’s hard to say if they’ll ever regain their rebel spirit.
All in all, Death Grips is a challenging listen. There is no single hook that makes you want to re-listen to it, which could be the noose that kills the entity that once was Death Grips. They live in an echo chamber. They exist only to themselves. They are consciously combative toward their labels and their fans. No Love Deep Web was atmospheric, expansive, and frighteningly dark. One can only hope for a more interesting and hook-filled album in the second and final installment of The Powers That B. For now, we continue to get fix for abrasive music with anything produced by the forefathers of future punk.
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