Death Grips – NO LOVE DEEP WEB (2012) [Self-Released] // Grade: B
It’s impossible to begin talking about NO LOVE DEEP WEB, Death Grips’ newest output, without first addressing the massive cock in my face. The “dick pic” artwork for the band’s newest addition to noise turned some heads and led to an “alternate version”, which is a picture of someone with their legs crossed, their socks reading, “SUCK MY DICK”. But, the artwork selections are only fitting for a band who released a previous album with a drawing of an “androgynous masochist on the leash of a feminist sadist who’s smoking.” Death Grips’ fan base doesn’t give a fuck, either. According to Billboard, Death Grips topped the list of most legally downloaded music through torrents in 2012, the polar opposites Counting Crows coming in behind them.
It also super badass that Death Grips released this album online for free after finding out that their label would be pushing it back to 2013. But it is expected, because in the world of Death Grips, there are no rules. This album is no different from their previous work. Maybe a little more raw, maybe, if possible, more aggressive. Heavy drums, loud keyboard sound effects, and dark lines like “No daylight, one midnight lamp lit 24/7. Murdered out windows, two exits: street or nosedive to the next life in seconds.” This is how NO LOVE DEEP WEB begins: screaming at you with enough bass and drums to break your face. This is music to punch out teeth, to rob, to burn down an enemy’s house. Death Grips make music for murder scenes or basement parties where leathered mutes are thrown in cages and jelly and blood go hand-in-hand, live animals be damned. The filthiest, rawest shit you can imagine, leaking in your mind, dripping out your nose. Scream to release, to refrain from sawing a neighbor in half. They even reference krocadil, a cheap opiate drug in Russia that makes your skin rot and fall off.
Yet, at times, through the anger and the insanity, beautiful, poetic imagery forms, even if it remains black like charcoal. “How the trip never stops, on and on, it’s beyond insane why I set myself up in a raging sea of flames.” The vocalist MC Ride seems completely aware of his actions, but appears not to care. “Swallowed way too much. Couldn’t handle it, I fell down a spiral stair case winding to hell.” If Rage Against the Machine drank excessively and ingested future drugs during a monster brawl, Death Grips would emerge. Tyler, the Creator would churn at some of the lines like, “I keep ‘em hangin’ from my balcony, shrivel in the sun.” The disturbing track “World of Dogs” that is more or less the trials and tribulations of a man questioning/promoting suicide: “Ruthless and free, it’s all suicide to me, cut it.” This is trunk-friendly Mudvayne. Lil Ugly Mane is probably all about this shit. This is Danny Brown if he ever stopped cheesing out. With mentions of being an alien and crawling out of your stomach, Death Grips are certainly from a different world with more eye patches and missing limbs, where gasoline is drank for breakfast and fist fights for dinner.
The production on Death Grips’ newest is apocalyptic electronica mixed with hip-hop drums, outer space distortion, and gas mask screams. All of the songs blend together, like a 13 person slaughter, every track exemplifying a dead body. “Foam of feral reality forming on mountains of teeth. Devour the hand, spit out the leash.” These wild lines are evidence of very intelligent men using five dollar words to describe pitch black mutilations. It’s poetry for the goth kid who wanted more out of Mushroomhead. Twisting and turning in your psych ward straight jacket, having a conversation with the baker’s dozen of characters living in your brain. The album ends well, the listener either getting used to the madness or the songs becoming more catchy. “Bass Rattle Stars Out the Sky”, the most accessible track on the album, has a strong bass (obviously) and an in-your-face flow that for once doesn’t terrify, but makes you bounce and scream and shout. The final track on the album, “Artificial Death in the West”, sounds different from the rest of the album, more dance club, more electronica, yet it fits. It wraps up the album with a groover, the smooth tempo of rolling credits. That being said, the anger and the dark lyrics still remain (“Euphoria followed by visions of peasants eating pigeons.”), but everyone is calming down and the blood is drying, maybe the sun is coming up, perhaps the villain escaped again.- neonpajamas