death grips essay

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Tyler, The Creator On Death Grips: “Put That On And I Can Do Anything”

“and do it efficient as fuck.”.

Tyler, the Creator penned a short piece about his love for Death Grips in Golf Book , the print wing of the rapper's Gold Media app. In his essay, the MC remembers his initial encounter with Death Grips' music. "First 30 seconds, I’m like 'OK, fuck, I'm getting bored,'" he writes. "By 55 seconds, I am fully in... I don't know what it was, but for the next two hours, I sat there clicking every single video, link, article, website that had anything to do with MC Ride and Zach Hill."

Thanks to the band, Tyler then managed to "put together a full trampoline in 17 minutes" and emerge unscathed from a scary driving incident where he lost control of his car. Read his full article below, and revisit his FADER cover story .

Read Next: Tyler, The Creator wants more music journalism and less gossip on the timeline

Summer had just started. I’d decided to buy a trampoline for my room and some mini kayaks for my pool. I’m in my room about to set up the trampoline, and on a related video on YouTube I read, Death Grips – Guillotine (Live). I’ve had people tell me about them and blah blah, and I never really gave them a chance. I click it. First 30 seconds, I’m like “OK, fuck, I’m getting bored.” By 55 seconds, I am fully in. The skinny black guy on stage with the beard that kind of reminds you of one those homeless people you see with a Starbucks cup… ended up being the coolest shit I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what it was, but for the next two hours, I sat there clicking every single video, link, article, website that had anything to do with MC Ride and Zach Hill. I put on the Exmilitary mixtape and Lionel and I put together a full trampoline in 17 minutes. That’s when I realized that Death Grips was my meth. I put that on and I can anything and do it efficient as fuck. With that being said, DO NOT LISTEN TO DEATH GRIPS WHILE DRIVING A FAST CAR WITH YOUR POWER MECHANICS BUTTON ON AND YOUR TIRE TRACTION OFF. Nico, Travis and I legit almost died because I decided to put on Stockton and burn rubber at a red light, which resulted into my car spinning out down a street at 60, 70 miles per hour at an intersection in Los Angeles around 2:45 on a school ay. Not one scratch, no one hurt, not one car touched. I don’t know what it was, but it led me to believe that I had a grip on death (sorry, I had to say that).

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Read Tyler, The Creator's Enthusiastic Mini-Essay About Death Grips

Image via Tyler, The Creator on Instagram

Tyler, The Creator  announced his Golf Media app earlier this year, and it’s been going strong ever since. One aspect that has seemingly been M.I.A. since the announcement, however, is the magazine portion. That changed over the last week or so as subscribers began to receive their issues of GOLF BOOK, which you can see above. Numerous parts of the magazine have made their way online since, but his write-up regarding Death Grips might just be the best of it.

Speaking about the day he discovered Death Grips to the point in which he became infatuated, the brief mini-essay is predictably entertaining. According to Tyler Death Grips’ music has the power to compel someone to build a trampoline in less than twenty minutes, and is definitely not the type of music you want to listen to while driving. Read what he had to say about Death Grips below.

Summer had just started. I’d decided to buy a trampoline for my room and some mini kayaks for my pool. I’m in my room about to set up the trampoline, and on a related video on YouTube I read, Death Grips – Guillotine (Live). I’ve had people tell me about them and blah blah, and I never really gave them a chance. I click it. First 30 seconds, I’m like “OK, fuck, I’m getting bored.” By 55 seconds, I am fully in. The skinny black guy on stage with the beard that kind of reminds you of one those homeless people you see with a Starbucks cup… ended up being the coolest shit I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what it was, but for the next two hours, I sat there clicking every single video, link, article, website that had anything to do with MC Ride and Zach Hill. I put on the Exmilitary mixtape and Lionel and I put together a full trampoline in 17 minutes. That’s when I realized that Death Grips was my meth. I put that on and I can anything and do it efficient as fuck. With that being said, DO NOT LISTEN TO DEATH GRIPS WHILE DRIVING A FAST CAR WITH YOUR POWER MECHANICS BUTTON ON AND YOUR TIRE TRACTION OFF. Nico, Travis and I legit almost died because I decided to put on Stockton and burn rubber at a red light, which resulted into my car spinning out down a street at 60, 70 miles per hour at an intersection in Los Angeles around 2:45 on a school ay. Not one scratch, no one hurt, not one car touched. I don’t know what it was, but it led me to believe that I had a grip on death (sorry, I had to say that).

Check out the image that was originally posted on the Death Grips sub-Reddit here .

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Death Grips' The Money Store Analysis Essay Example

INTRODUCTION: The Money Store is the debut studio album and the second full-length project by American Experimental Hip Hop band Death Grips, released as their debut studio album following the success of Exmilitary. Exmilitary, their debut full-length project, was a mixtape that was filled to the brim with abrasiveness and experimentation. Said abrasiveness and experimentation was born out from the samples used, which varied from Old School Hip Hop songs to Surf Rock to Garage Rock to Psychedelic Rock to Punk to Reggae to Snare Drum Solos, all of which are displayed in an Industrial tone that makes up this record. Along with this the vocalist of the band, MC Ride, delivered a hell of a performance. His style of delivery is not far from that of a punk/metal frontman, and the lyrics he spoke were abstract, vivid, and violent, and painted a hellish world from the perspective of his character.

Then you have the quality of Exmilitary, which is damn near unparalleled in its consistency and enjoyability, of all of the 11 songs and 2 interludes that appear on the record, not one of the songs or interludes are mediocre, let alone bad. Almost all of the songs are A-tier stuff, with some of my favorite songs of the decade appearing on that record. So the real question is, how the fuck do you follow up a perfect record? Not just that, but how do you somehow improve and make a better record than that? The answer to those questions lies within The Money Store

REVIEW: The Money Store is made up of a total of 13 songs, covering a total of 41 minutes. Most of the songs are around 2 ½ to 3 ½ minutes in length, with the longest song being Hacker at 4 ½ minutes long, and the shortest being Blackjack at around 2 ⅓ minutes long. With almost all of the songs being standard length, it allows this album to move at a rapid pace and leave no time wasted on interludes or meandering on the same beats for too long.

Speaking of the beats, the instrumentals on this album are fucking orgasmic in their quality. They are all able to strike an impossibly perfect balance of abrasiveness, experimentation, and futuristic-ness, with catchiness and accessibility. The beats also carry an explosive energy to them that really allows for the songs to pop the fuck off. The production is also very sharp, and pretty clean, which is in contrast to Exmilitary, which has very rough and messy production. But, at the same time, it still maintains the rawness and power that is present in Exmilitary’s production. Along with this contrast to Exmilitary, The Money Store’s instrumentals are a lot less sample-based and rock-based, and are more based on originally made Electronic and Industrial music, with some samples still being used within some of the songs.

MC Ride also delivers a stunning performance as a vocalist, his delivery is more versatile this time around, sometimes sounding pretty normal and mellow, such as his performance on songs like Get Got, The Cage, and I’ve Seen Footage, and other times sounding as manic as ever, such as on Hacker and The Fever. Ride’s lyrics are also as good on this record as they were on their last, with some of the most abstract and interesting lyrics on a rap album on full display.

All of these qualities culminate into quite potentially the most consistent and enjoyable project made. Not a single weak spot is on this entire album.

SONG BY SONG REVIEW:

GET GOT: An incredibly strong opener, a psychedelic arpeggio plays while sporadic and spacey drumming plays in the back. Ride’s delivery is mellow and calm, giving the whole entire song a very trippy, spacey vibe and sound to it. All while Ride's lyrics tell a story of a person hallucinating that they are being pursued by the police.

THE FEVER: A full display of Death Grips at their most manic and chaotic state. Fast-paced drumming, chaotic synths, and vocal delivery with the energy to match the instrumental. the lyrics point to a mentally ill criminal breaking down, leading to him fighting and terrorizing just about everyone around him.

LOST BOYS: A dystopian-sounding industrial dub track that showcases the outlaws and criminals of society, and the extent of how far said people will go to make ends meet, all while degrading society and social normalcy.

BLACKJACK: This song has a substantially different sound in comparison to all of the other songs on this record, sounding broken and other-worldly. Lyrics are from that of a drug dealer who takes pride in the destruction of the people who use the drugs he sells, and the other crimes that he commits.

HUSTLE BONES: One of the glitchiest and catchiest songs on the whole entire album. Ride delivers a manic rampage of performance over the beat. All while the instrumental absolutely decimates everything around itself.

I’VE SEEN FOOTAGE: The catchiest and most accessible song that Death Grips has ever made, and by quite a long shot as well. The beat is catchy and danceable as an incredible blend of dance-punk with electronic music. All while Ride’s performance, once again, matches the energy displayed. The lyrics themselves are some of the darkest on this record. Displaying the amount of horrific shit that lurks on the internet and what it could do to people.

DOUBLE HELIX: Another one of the more accessible and catchier songs on the record. This song sees Ride showcasing how the band views themselves, along with the process of how they make their music.

SYSTEM BLOWER: Despite the song being my least favorite from the album, it is still ridiculously good. The song is well known for sampling, of all things, women grunting and a train, and it all still goes hard. The song itself is about destroying the system and engaging in random and senseless violence.

THE CAGE: Another accessible song. Slower than a lot of the other songs on the album. But still fantastic. The lyrics showcase rejection of the limits that society has placed on the people that it governs.

PUNK WEIGHT: The most powerful and engrossing banger of the whole record. From the earth-shattering bass on this thing to the disgusting lyrics spouted by Ride. This song goes hard, harder than it has any right to go.

FUCK THAT: A much more stripped down and probably the most Exmilitary sounding song on the whole album, catchy and raw.

BITCH PLEASE: The second most powerful and engrossing banger of the whole record. Catchy and very much club-oriented. This was the song in which this band clicked with me, and I've been listening to it nearly daily since.

HACKER: The closer of the record, and the best song of the entire album. Filled with some of the most abstract and cryptic lyrics the band has written, the powerful, apocalyptic, disorienting, massive-sounding instrumental, and everything else about this thing, make it the best song on the record for me.

CONCLUSION: The Money Store is one of the best albums I’ve ever listened to. From the dark lyrics to the dystopian and futuristic instrumentals, to the production, It is essential for the genres of Experimental Hip Hop and Industrial Hip Hop. It is one of the most enjoyable, disorienting, and fantastical experiences I've ever had with music, and I highly recommend it if you want to get into the more abrasive side of Rap music or the more accessible side of Industrial music. Even ten years out, and with numerous developments within both Industrial Hip Hop and Experimental Hip Hop, The Money Store still remains unique, innovative, and ahead of its time.

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Death Grips Exmilitary John Calvert , May 24th, 2011 12:55

Death Grips - Exmilitary by deathgrips

This is a funhouse, bulbous with danceable heaviosity and sick bass permutations but built from the molecular facts of post-techno. It's a rocking firestorm forged in cold logic: procedural, binary, black and white, dense with gyrations, mutations, deferrals - a tarnation computed numerically, and chaos. There's no plan here, so no rules; an itemised, nonsensical showreel flaunting everything the Sacramento-based egregore are capable of. Which amounts to a lurid, livid, unquantifiable mess of method, an auditory jamboree dead-set on screen-crashing hip hop, contorting its myriad influences into junk art rinsers, hook-barking rabid dogs: meaningless, shameless, soulless, fearless. Who needs a central idea when you can do it all. A great album statement? No. Track-for-track the birth of a new legend? Absolutely.

The brainchild of founding member, producer Flatlander, the five-headed enigma that is Death Grips also features head MC Ride, side-vocalist/lyricist Mexican Girl, Info Warrior and beat-junkie Zach Hill of Hella fame. Unlike Tyler's Goblin this is an indie hip hop album based on the principle that punk rebellion requires energy. Lots of it. Every track operates in a hyperstitious state of mania without hope of reprieve; groaning under blue-note distress, and around every corner a sputtered percussion event: consolidation and the corollary of several cutting-edge regional dance scenes in currency right now. Meaning you get a largely kick-drum free convergence of near infrasonic bass and micro-detail - unsegmented tom rolls, pitched-up vocal chirps, snare clusters, and re-sequenced 808 brickbat.

The lo-tech roseola and electro-static texture evokes an aesthetic of system failure, an industrial-indebted car crash of ballistic dysfunction; part crowd-hyping and part sunken-eyed psychological collage. Over which presides an omnipresent blunderbuss of a voice, emanating from a Conrad-ian, death-obsessed rapper intent on (a Lydia Lunch quote) "getting to the roots of obsession".

Masochistic as often he is sadistic, MC Ride's upwardly inflected barks detail murderous plans and imaginary wickedness, as often as a bewildered fear of self - as though to ask the listener "Who made me like this?" which distinguishes him from the exclusively relentlessly angry likes of EL-P and DMX, with whom comparisons will be made.

There's a brain-dead quality to his character, but under bellow and beard is an intricacy and a colouristic subtlety, a "tongue in reverse", which lays free-standing phrases out in small parts, head-to-toe for 48 minutes, over anything they can throw at him - live drums, thunking midrange soft-beats, grime-esque synths and HEALTH-referencing cycles.

It must be an exorcising process for such a black-eyed psychodrama on four legs as he, but for all the deicidal chest-thumping even the king is susceptible to glitching and restitching, courtesy of a gleefully meddling production style hellbent on carving out quantum folds, unbalancing spatial shifts, thrilling whizz-pop reveals and tensile chitter from what, for the most part, is arguably an angular, beat-complex, mechanised update of paranoiac crunk.

It's probably Zach Hill you have to thank for such an unsweetened ear-thrashing, for his Face Tat roved a similarly gremlin-plagued furrow (only more Lightning Bolt than Antipop Consortium). When left to its own devices, though, Ride's flow is programmatic; the effect boorish but economic, loose but staccato, and equally as provocative as it is elliptical - "Head of a trick in a bucket, body of a trick in a bag," he snaps; "Tie the chord kick the chair and you're dead." Just like that. When on 'Culture Shock' he plies a comparatively less insidious intonation, it’s a relief.

So it goes like this. Swampy Dalek-esque opener 'Beware' is launched from a suspenseful Charles Manson dialogue clip. Trumpets and fender sustain rake at a faraway Ride who bare-chested and double-tracked declares "I am the beast I worship", while white-hot delay shrapnel showers down on a clunking boom-bap measure. It's a gambit of terrible fabulousness. With Mexican Girl doubling the vocal-attack, 'Lord Of The Game' is barbaric and broad-shouldered, but it's also an impossibly constricting experience, pulled taut by a stubbornly restrained structure, rapid fire voice-samples and helicopter-effect toms that play havoc with your neck arteries. So much so that even the sporadic squawks of atonal saxophone can do nothing by way of a release.

Next more sampling, with 'Spread Eagle Cross The Block', marrying the languid diabolism of Wray's 'Rumble' to Ride's perverted solicitations and bullish chants of "Ain't no fun if the aliens can’t have known" (a good tagline for Exmilitary ). Anti-LAPD diatribe 'Klink' features woody pad hits and playing-card-in-the spokes drumline snares, before The Castaways' 'Liar Liar' takes us into 'Culture Shock'. Elaborately cross-rythmic and diseased with insectoid buzzing, the louche 'Culture Shock' rests on a birds nest of circuits and every now and then a ghostly battery of men step off the edge and fall to their death. Which make way for klaxon-firing beast in the form of dembow hell-raiser 'Thru The Walls', and the footwork-inspired 'Blood Creepin', which threatens to spin off its axis on impact with every squeezing bass drop and 8-bit ray gun effect.

Without question, though, it's 'Guillotine' which marks the Californians out as something a little bit special. A true postcard from the edge, its stillness and sharpness is electric enough, but its the power-up glissando, made by dropping the fidelity on Ride's recurrent exhortation "YAH!", that gets at your freudian bits. A nameless sound, it's like the answer to a question no-one asked, an abyssal void under the drainhole of Kevin Martin's worst nightmare - part engine rev, part shock therapy, and primed by the glitched refrain "It goes, it goes, it goes" which alternately arrives as "Zee-ko, zee-ko, zee-ko" until you can wrestle the syllables back into cyclical order, lest you black out. It's also a very skeletal machine for the delivery of pressure, coming very close to stalling, if not for Ride at his most charging and some zavvy editing. Otherwise the song is calm like a bomb. The wind-scoured expanse implied when Ride's desolate grunts fade into deep space serves to quieten the ambience, thusly accentuating the split-second electronic curlicue at 0:14 and the trepanning sine-wave current towards the end.

Indie hip hop's second play for the big time this year and a salutary reminder that mainstream rap is one 50 Cent single away from its Warren - 'Cherry Pie' moment, Ex-Military is a monumental blow for the underground. Connives Mr Ride on 'Guillotine': "Sit in the dark and ponder / how I'm fit to make the bottom fall through the floor / And they all fall down!" Let’s hope so - a gold guillotine to complacency, or it's back to the 'Candy Shop' we go.

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when the world comes knocking - a death grips essay

• When the World Comes Knocking - a death grips essay

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