There was a time when it seemed like a good snicker to deride Azealia Banks as the female Lupe Fiasco once she started accosting gay flight attendants it seemed like Fiasco would be horrified if someone tagged him the male A.B. With its slow-mo doom-metal guitar screeches and Burnett’s f**k-spattered lyrics ricocheting inside his own head, “Centuries of Damn” burns a hole through Generation Jobless futility, while “I Break Mirrors With My Face In the United States” burrows further inward with Hill’s hardcore tempo and Burnett breathlessly insisting, “ I DON’T CARE ABOUT REAL LIFE!” Maybe he doesn’t, according to their track record of pissing people off, but The Powers That B bristles with the articulated rage of two people who DGAFOS. Björk’s chopped-and-chewed vocals on Powers’ first disc, niggas on the moon, will never hit as hard as Burnett’s barks, but Jenny Death, the second one, affirms what we’d be missing in a world without Death Grips.

Whatever they say and then do, or don’t do, these sludge-punk corrosives remain impossible to ignore. They said double LP The Powers That B would be their final release later that year, they announced (surprise?) the arrival of another album, Bottomless Pit. “We had no plans on disappointing our fans again,” Death Grips’ foul-mouthedpiece Stefan “MC Ride” Burnett told SPIN in 2012, referencing their notorious tour full of no-shows a year later, he and damage-inducing drummer Zach Hill “chose not to show up” at their Lollapalooza set in Chicago. Helpful reminder: “Can I be any more gay? Yaaaaaaaaas.” - D.W. Pitchfork dubbed this branch of elephant-in-the-room queer rap “qrap” Call him Thomas Qrapper.

The basic beats and old-school cypher-style flow on his debut are more Beasties than Eminem, and you can hear the influence of his buddy Shamir on lines like “You’re severely misguided, get a GPS.” He interrupts “#F**kboy” with an astounding blink-and-you’ll-miss-it Nicki Minaj impression, and even makes something relatively poignant out of the slur usage on the Kreayshawn-esque “Closet Case Fags,” about the dudes who blow up his phone all day despite having a girlfriend a line like “If you’re a straight guy / I’m a paraplegic Asian chick” is spat with lived-in bitterness. Others will giggle because Michete would probably make excellent ten-foot pole jokes. Dropping the word “faggot” more than Rajon Rondo, transfeminine Spokane rapper Michete is a case study in intersectionality that many won’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole.

Dej loaf try me bass boosted