Sacramento’s Death Grips are easily one of the stranger acts to emerge from recent influx of DIY hip-hop upstarts. In fact, the duo barely qualifies as hip-hop at all, transcending hardcore, noise, electronica, and of course rap to create a punishingly aggressive style that continues to bludgeon you over the head with its anger and immediacy. On The Money Store, the duo’s second LP and first with a record deal, Death Grips refines the blend of proto-rap/electro noise they emerged with on their debut Ex-Military into something a bit more subtle. However, just because Death Grips doesn’t explode in a maximalist onslaught on every song doesn’t mean they still aren’t as pissed off as they were a year ago. Stefan Burnett attack with a flow that sounds more akin to Henry Rollins than any of his modern hip-hop contemporaries, shouting out cryptic punk wisdom in a low bark making someone like Tyler, the Creator sound like Vanilla Ice. Zach Hill crafts wildly unpredictable instrumentals that range from the unrelenting throb of “Get Got” to the percussive Bollywood morph of punk weight, to the pumping dance grooves of “I’ve Seen Footage” and “Hacker”. Burnett and Hill have created a style of music that sounds purely theirs and manage to make it surprisingly palatable while maintaining a definite sense of individuality. There is no one making music like this right now.
