Death Grips - Bottomless Pit Review

Death Grips has quickly become a staple of music's post-modern, Internet-sleuthing scene, complete with anti-commercial sentiments, antagonistic reactions, and tongue-in-cheek baiting. In this regard, to fans of the Experimental Hip-Hop trio, these past five years have been, unquestionably, a bottomless pit; one complete with seeping sewage, creepy crawlers, and the gurgling noise of a homeless man howling beneath. They continually taunt their fans who sadistically enjoy this torment and fail to conduct formal interviews, leaving an impressionable enigma that only reveals itself with the music they selectively release. Last year saw their notoriety combust with Jenny Death, the second half of The Powers That B, counteracting the Glitch-infested hogwash Niggas On The Moon with searing guitars that evoked raw Rock power anthems, culminating in MC Ride calling out his own fans on 'On GP' through sideswiped Shoegaze. 'Death Grips 2.0,' Jenny Death's finale, witnessed a sudden shift to rampant polyrhythms, signaling an obvious change for the group (however unnecessary that was) into even more daunting worlds. Bottomless Pit synoptically marks the next step, where a formal evolution into chaotic Synth Punk takes form. The result is less monumental, more impressionistic.

There were a lot of signs Bottomless Pit would relish in disorderly obstruction, namely The i.l.y's I've Always Been Good At True Love. A side project from Zach Hill and Andy Morin, the LP festered in Noise Rock, living in an abandoned garage with only the basic essentials on hand. The album was forgotten fairly quickly, failing to receive the flair of a formal Death Grips release. This, as was the case with Fashion Week and Interview 2016, was due to the absence of the group's face; MC Ride. A ruthless dictator lording over his malleable production, Ride's dexterity allows mashable tunes to form concrete foundations. In other words, without him, Bottomless Pit is no better than the other instrumental albums on tap. But his presence, no matter how indistinguishable, shockingly brings order to the chaos. Not due to his penmanship, this is without a doubt the rapper's worst performance as a lyrical emcee. Forgoing riveting bars ('Say Hey Kid'), unbridled emotion ('Beware'), and cryptic nonsequiturs ('Birds'), Ride chooses instead to become a Pop star. Indeed. Returning to the roots of The Money Store, Bottomless Pit's bread and butter arrive in the form of catchy hooks, leaving the verses as secondary banter.

Every track here gives off an immediate punch. If 2015's double album had you expecting another epic, be warned, Bottomless Pit contracts the edges like a boa constrictor killing its prey, shredding excess in a blender. Fairly quickly you'll entirely forget the fact that this is Death Grips' least conceptual release. A double edged sword for sure, these 13 interchangeable tracks play out like a mixtape of ideas rather than a full-fledged album. It goes in line with the group's intentions of creating a work that defied superfluity, relying heavily on the sheer talents of each member without obsessing over distinctive pieces. A concise comparative, 'Hot Head,' the longest track here (4:18), pales in terms of duration to eight of the ten tracks on Jenny Death. More than that, it eclipses the next closest on its own album by a minute, meaning 16 of the 18 cuts on The Powers That B are longer than Bottomless Pit's second beefiest. Now that's a Punk album. This results in not a single down moment, as it spurs on for 39 barbarous minutes, reckless and agonizing. However, this also means no substantial identifiers, with each track falling in the same spot on the quality scale.

Ask anybody their top three and, after they explain that it's constantly in flux, they'll name a combination unique to themselves. For me, it's 'Three Bedrooms In A Good Neighborhood,' 'Spikes,' and 'Trash.' However, come back tomorrow and you'll likely receive a new trio. This is how Pop music works, and as much as I hate to say it, Bottomless Pit is relatively safe in this regard. It's intended, sure, but there's no risks to be found. The almost inconceivable percussion that thumps at the maximum pace a human can withstand, the plucky Sci-Fi synths darting in any minute empty space, and the near thrash metal guitars (prominent on the title track), make Bottomless Pit sound lawless, but the similarities make it, somewhat, orderly. If you're into comparisons, Death Grips' latest tends to lean towards NO LOVE DEEP WEB's foreboding presence. If that LP was a sinister thriller sending goosebumps up your spine, Bottomless Pit is its slasher flick sequel where the villain returns with chains, drills, and a load of jump scares. Expect a seizure warning to appear before the opening credits.

While the cons of Bottomless Pit can be obvious given its own, sometimes detrimental, construct, the pros, in typical Death Grips fashion, outweigh any criticisms. Bottomless Pit is a fun record, and unlike the monstrous 80-minute TPTB, it's one that you can put on, shuffle up, and enjoy on your own preferences. So while esoteric content may not be prevalent here, substituted for Ride boasting as good as Hip-Hop's most confident emcees, the scene around Bottomless Pit, with dial-up single 'Trash' being the latest antic, makes this unquestionably Death Grips; a testament to the group's ability to show diversity within their own parameters. It's also an essential release, one that eschews the experimentation found on NOTM and Government Plates for diehard fans, in favor of (relative) mass appeal. In an age where it seems every trending artist is following Death Grips' surprise drop mentality, the trio has reverted back to structure; pre-planned release dates and 'Eh' premiering on Beats 1 Radio the biggest indicator to that. It's a new age, and with Bottomless Pit, a group always labeled as the Internet's flavor of the month continues to prove why they're more than just a corny gimmick.