Album Review: Death Grips - The Money Store
Death Grips are the sound of right now. This is the soundtrack to our waking (i.e. sleeping) lives, all newsfeed propaganda and hyperlink overload, 3-D lives imprisoned in 2-D screens, perpetually in medias res without any sign of backstory or resolution. Not to say that aggressive digital-era urban paranoia hasn't been done in music before (see also: Tricky, Nine Inch Nails, Atari Teenage Riot, Public Enemy), but the way Death Grips inherently position themselves outside of any established milieu is a smart move. "Are they hip-hop or not?" is a question that nerds on forums love to debate, but ultimately it becomes a pointless exercise. Why? Because Death Grips are punk, man, and not in your 70's-throwback-mohawk-three-chords-and-an-attitude sense. No, dig it, punk like Suicide (the band, Hoss!) is punk, ya know? Punk like GG Allin's entire existence is punk! Punk like John Waters' films or William Gibson's Neuromancer are punk!
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