I’m a death grips fan okay? I’m noided. I’m like…i’m in that sweet spot with death grips i’m not like those assholes who go out of their way to say theyre NOT into death grips when you ask them “So what’s up? You listen to death grips?” and they’re like “Naw i’m not that guy” but they are that guy. They’re that guy. I’m talking about the guys who are trying so fucking hard to be cool. They don’t want you to know they love death grips so they act like they never heard about death grips but I’m noided. Okay?
Noid is a real word. It’s a shortened variation of the phrase, “not ignored” and it’s in Webster’s dictionary. It means, “aware or knowledgeable.” So if I say “I’m noided on death grips” i’m saying, “i know all there is and then some about death grips and I’ve never been ignorant about them and never will be” Okay? I’m noided as fuck. I know all about them and more than that I can sing their lyrics. I can quote them. I know every album, song, music video, tour dates…everything. I wish MC Ride would spit in my open mouth like he does for the cameras during his performances…I would lick it out of my mouth and save it forever. Death grips have made a mark on me…a permanent stain…they have infected me with a sickness…a virus…and it’s incurable. They’re like a drug…i can feel it coursing through my veins and making me sick. I’m addicted and there’s only one thing that will make this addiction go away.
MC Ride has the voice of an angel. A demon. A god. He speaks in tongues. His voice is so deep and raspy it makes you shiver. You can feel it vibrating inside your body. When you’re around death grips you get goosebumps. It’s just like how they described it in that interview…the one where they said “It’s like being high.” That’s exactly what happens…it’s like a drug. The sound of them playing live…you can feel it in your bones. Their music makes you feel like your heart could explode at any moment. You feel like everything else around you fades away and all you see is them. ok bro I’m sorry but i just need this okay? This is important to me. I don’t want you judging my taste in bands or calling me gay because I love them. I don’t care what anyone thinks of them except ME and if I want to listen to them I’ll do it! I don’t give a damn what YOU think about them or how much money you have in YOUR bank account.
I once saw a homeless man on the street that looked like Zach Hill. He had the same eyes…he was sitting there in a dirty hoodie and his hair all greasy. His face was all dirty and his nails looked like claws. But he smiled at me and when i looked into his eyes i knew. I KNEW it was him!! He didn’t have to say anything…I just knew. I felt this warmth in my chest…a feeling of comfort washed over me. I knew right away. I went over to him and knelt down beside him. He didn’t even say anything…he just reached out and touched my cheek with his hand. I felt the cold metal of a ring on his finger as it brushed my face. The smell of his breath filled my nostrils…it smelled like whiskey. His fingers were calloused and rough…yet they felt gentle against my skin. I wanted him to touch more of me. I wanted him to kiss me and hold me in his arms.