Review: Death Grips at Rabbit Rabbit
To preface this review, I would like to apologize in advance for my fangirling.
Death Grips was — and still is, one of the most influential musical groups in my life. When I stumbled across The Money Store sometime in late 2019, I was initially taken aback. The music’s aggressive absurdity and ferocious energy was like nothing I’d heard before. The combination of industrial rap, noise music, and electro punk makes for a patchwork of sound that was so intoxicating, so distinct, and diverse that it scratched a part of my brain that had otherwise been untouched.
I think this special sentiment was shared as fans began to steadily trickle into Rabbit Rabbit just as the afternoon of August 13 began to drop to a tolerable temperature. There was a jovial energy all around, people giddy with the fact that, in just a few minutes, we would be breathing the same air as vocalist Stefan Burnnet (aka MC Ride) and drummer/producer Zach Hill. What followed was essentially the show of our dreams: No frills. No opener. No banter with the crowd. No visuals. And no backdrop. Just plain ol’ Death Grips.
When MC Ride appeared on stage, he didn’t waste a moment to even glance at the crowd before he began performing. The trio ferociously launched into “System Blower” off their 2012 break out album, The Money Store. Even with a different guitarist standing in for usual bassist Andy Morin, the force of their live renditions lived up to the sheer drive and sporadicness of the recorded versions. As the sun set, Ride’s electrifying performance continued, his signature gruff voice spitting lines as the mosh pit in the center of the crowd steadily expanded.
When the opening notes of “You Might Think He Loves You for Your Money but I Know What He Really Loves You for It’s Your Brand New Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat” played, the audience went wild. As the stage became increasingly hard to see amongst the raging pit and people pressing to the front in an attempt to be baptized by MC Ride’s sweat, a sense of nearly silly lightheartedness took me over despite the extreme scene taking over the venue.
As the lengthy title might suggest, the previously mentioned song (which I will not bother re-typing, thank you very much) is jam-packed with lyrics, most of it nonsense — but the crowd knew every word. I was not alone in my fangirling. The worship of this musical group was not confined to me milling around in my room throughout the COVID-19 pandemic, trying to learn a few of Ride’s signature dance moves, but had this whole dedicated community that I felt so lucky to be a part of.
The night carried on, and song after song, people sprinted from the pit to the water station and sprinted right back in. I stepped in line for merch, figuring that by mid-show the line would have lessened up a bit, but when I saw the hoard of people crowding the table, I immediately changed my mind, not willing to risk missing another moment of the glorious sound. I returned just in time, as Death Grips closed the set with “Hacker,” while some stranger and I screamed the lyrics at each other in a shared victorious end to the night.
Ride and Hill left the stage just as they came — no acknowledgement of the excellent show they just put on or the screaming crowd: just walking off like it was nothing. The crowd took no time to wait for an encore because we collectively knew—to quote the lady standing next to me — ‘There’s no way in hell Death Grips would do a fucking encore.’
I was so giddy with post-show buzz that I skipped like a schoolgirl to meet up with some friends on Coxe Avenue. Not only had I gotten to see these legends of hardcore music, but I was able to share in the passion surrounding the group on such a gleefully large scale. The power of live music was on full display that night, in all capacities.
(Photos by Heather Burditt)
