"Niggas on the Moon finds Death Grips drawing from themselves rather than pushing things forward, a deviation from their mission statement. Anyone familiar with the band’s mix of aggressive electronics, barked non-sequiturs, and collapsing song structures will find plenty to like here, but after three years of aiming to confuse and shock, Death Grips are approaching reliability, and the presence of truly thrilling moments has decreased accordingly."
"Paying money to see a band in a club and having them cancel through something that seems like a clear fuck-you is doubtlessly infuriating. And that— as John Cage or Marina Abramović or Justice Yeldham or anyone whose idea of performance upsets our idea of what we’re paying to see has affirmed— is OK. If Friday’s cancelled Death Grips show had been scheduled for the Museum of Modern Art, it would’ve been subtitled ‘The Artist Isn’t Present’, and it would have been documented in art journals. Performance art is not about getting anything; it’s about being gotten."
"Say you were being bullied in school: If you have our music in your headphones, no one is really bullying you anymore. It’s like taking a pill that makes you super-human. The music has emotional suffering on the darker and deeper side of what the human experience is like, but it’s also a beast— you could take a bite out of a bowl while listening to it."
PAGE 1 / 2 /