Death Grips' second album arrived via self-sabotage, leaked against Epic Records' wishes with an obscene cover that dared the internet not to look. Where The Money Store flirted with accessibility, No Love Deep Web retreats into claustrophobic brutalism: synths like razor wire, Zach Hill's drums reduced to skeletal clatter, MC Ride barking paranoid manifestos over beats that refuse to breathe.

Tracks like Come Up and Get Me and No Love sound like panic attacks rendered in ones and zeros, all industrial clang and misanthropic intensity. The ultimate fuck-you from Sacramento's angriest sons.