Review Summary: Ladies and Gentlemen, jenny death Now.
There was nobility to Death Grips calling it quits when they did. They recognized they were a problem and promptly suicided themselves to protect their legacy. As a mark of finality, the suddenness of their breakup was calculated marketing at its finest.
It should come as no surprise that in recent weeks, it's become clear
jenny death won't be the final Death Grips album as we all (ha) thought would be the case. MC Ride has all but affirmed in interviews that their breakup can best be viewed as a hiatus, with tour announcements imminent. How we didn't see that is beyond reasonable explanation- it's not as if the band had ever randomly cancelled appearances or tossed albums onto the deep web for free- with audiences feeling cheated and disgusted by Death Grips constant attempts at post-modern behaviour. Maybe Death Grips haven't done the right thing by amending their prior statements and continuing their patented franchise of moronic joy?
... But y'know what? It's pretty awesome that they're making more music. Because if
jenny death is any indication, Death Grips are still capable of a certain kind of big dumb fun. Bands can do fun, but only Death Grips can do this type of fun; a sort of fractured, frightening, and darkly impenetrable sort of grandiose fun. In a world without sanity, "Why a Bitch Gotta Lie" would be defined as a soaring and/or anthemic power ballad for the downtrodden. Of course we don't occupy Death Grips' headspace of stupidity, and so in its present form it presents a maelstrom of fractured beats and bizarre wailing that seems so completely Death Grips that it hurts. This is, for better or worse, the essence of
jenny death.
Make no qualms,
jenny death is far from a conscious masterpiece.
jenny death is Death Grips doing Death Grips and doing it very well. For anybody who wasted their time with
Fashion Week, it's safe to say that
jenny death more than makes up for the distinct lack of fully-formed bangers on the former. This is particularly the case for album opener "I Break Mirrors with My Face in the United States", a typically Death Grips ode to political paranoia. Of course it doesn't do anything more than capitalize on "Come Up and Get Me" and "Get Got", but you can't expect anything more. Taken on the surface, the song is, so to speak,
bangin' bro. Not that the rest of
jenny death strives for higher goals; the relative brevity and return to non-Bjork beats has benefited MC Ride's remarkably hooky rambling greatly. Lead singles "Inanimate Sensation" and "On GP" perfectly highlight the often unsung attention to detail that goes into Zach Hill's melodic construction.
As is often the case with Death Grips (and honestly, who can be blamed for the oversight), discussion often sees musical aspects thrown to the wayside, which is a shame considering how well-formed a musical statement
jenny death is. A cross-pollination of both their experimental tendencies and joyously maniacal qualities come to the fore here, as if to imply that even if this wasn't the last Death Grips album, it certainly could fit the bill. Tremendous as the penultimate track, "On GP" delivers from both sides with the typically nihilistic MC Ride pontificating on life in a profoundly 'normal' manner. To have him performing as a human is a refreshing change of pace, as is the presence of guitars where contorted synth once was. It would be a crying shame if this actually were the final Death Grips album; the serrating guitars of "Beyond Alive" prove themselves to be one of Death Grips' finer moments.
Context still lingers large over
jenny death, with antics and f
uck-abouts by and large defining the experience. That's apparent when the final track seemingly heralds a predictable return for a band whose skits tend to predicate musical motives. However to imply that these happenings overshadow the Death Grips experience would be a poor assumption to make. Much like
No Love Deep Web,
jenny death's intents lie firmly in the aggression conjured up between Zach Hill's spastic production motifs and MC Ride's imbecilic delivery. It's a profoundly violent record which comes in contrast to the extensive patchwork that makes up
jenny death's overall narrative; a quality best displayed in Death Grips' finest works.
In the end,
jenny death is rife with obnoxious contradictions and of-the-moment memes. It doesn't stand on the shoulders of
The Money Store and it makes no qualms about its hype being a lie (see: "Death Grips 2.0"). But then Death Grips' appeal has always lied in their mastery in overcoming their public displays of idiocy with eerie and unconventional anthems.
jenny death could have been a point of disinterest had Death Grips really just packed up and walked away. But MC Ride and Zach Hill are aware that, sometimes, life can benefit from a bit of arrant stupidity in the form of half-baked industrial rap rock. If only for them to 'breakup' once more, Death Grips have earned their tattered reputation. Ladies and gentlemen,
jenny death now.
