Album Review: Pixel Grip, ‘Percepticide: The Death of Reality’

If you are a fan of Pixel Grip, Percepticide: The Death of Reality possesses no song that will not satisfy. If you are new to their music, by the end of the album you’ll be prowling the town fetish scene. Percepticide follows the success of Pixel Grip’s 2021 album Arena. Four years later they stay true to their sound: a combination of industrial bangings freshly packaged from the latest warehouse party delivered with raspy pop vocals not unlike the maximalist tendencies of Sabrina Carpenter. However, Pixel Grip is no shot of espresso. The Chicago trio – Rita Lukea (vocals/production), Jonathon Freund (synth/production), and Tyler Ommen (drums/production) – happily feed you several doses of something much stronger. True to their DIY roots, Pixel Grip released Percepticide through no record label. Production help from Joo Joo Ashworth (SASAMI, King Tuff) served their creative inspiration as Pixel Grip returns full of sensual darkness, unfiltered lyrics, and fetish iconography, ready to watch you shake to the beat.

1. Crows Feast

Although the title might recall crows feet, I assure you, the song has nothing to do with aging. Instead, it is a trepidatious search into uncertainty and betrayal. ‘Crows Feast’ acts as the album overture, withholding the faster club beats Pixel Grip is known for. The chanted lyrics, “I open up my ribcage and let the crows feast,” provides a visceral image of self-flagellation via crows, evocative of some hellish punishment, underpinned by a lone synthesizer repeating three chords steadily throughout the song. This is where Pixel Grip begins.

2. Bet You Do

In the electronic/dance genre where female vocalists sometimes serve as an aesthetic overtone to the more vital dance beats, vocalist Rita Lukea’s powerful and seductive vocals dominate each track. ‘Bet You Do’, the longest track on the album, lends well for an extended session on the dance floor.

3. Stamina

Released as a single, this stand alone song (what is called “fuck anthem”) would be a dream to hear at fetish night. A robotic trickling combined with a controlled ringing follows Lukea’s vocal commands. When she sings, “The party’s not over until I say it’s over,” the band mimics their vocal cadence, following commands like good boys should. When Lukea shouts, “Show me your stamina!” the instrumentals dampen their own sound, tired, only to pause before gathering their energy when Lukea demands. The most stricking lyric on the album, “Daddy come over/ Fuck me over and over/ Fuck me over and over,” will slap a naughty little smile on the face of even the shiest of fetish night voyeurs.

4. Reason to Stay

The synth crunches out several chords before settling into a calmer cadence. Once the beat mellows out, traipsing from measure to measure, Lukea sings with subversive pleasure, “Hey/ Got somethin’ to say?/ Put me in my place/ Wouldn’t that be sweet.” Lukea’s grunge vocals will grab you by the shirt, then push you down as her voice rumbles over industrial cracklings: “You push me to the limit/ What the fuck you expect?”

5. Insignificant

At the onset of ‘Insignificant’, the tunes of LCD Soundsystem sprinkle in, that is until the beat drops like a pile of rocks against a tile floor. Pixel Grip is meant to be heard live. It is in this context where lyrics like, “You’re insignificant […] Whether you’re undiscovered/ Or whether your plastic face/ Is plastered on magazine covers,” can fuel you instead of deflate you. Nothing matters, Pixel Grip seems to say, not even you, so you better enjoy it.

6. Noise

In a darker interlude, ‘Noise’ appears as a more sinister note on an album reneging trauma in exchange for a good dance beat. About the album, Lukea said, “‘Percepticide’ is a cognitive distortion and a symptom of trauma – beliefs you hold to be true are shattered – as you question everyone and everything around you.”

7. Moment With God

Lukea’s vocals reach their most influential peak when pushed out, exasperated. She possesses, at once, a kind of vulnerability that can be snatched back at will. This submissive tendency, audible in lyrics like, “That’s okay, I get what I deserve,” transforms into lyrical imperatives like, “Give me a moment with God!” This whiplash between submission and dominance makes Pixel Grip unpredictable and delectable.

8. Split

Some songs on the albums sound more destined for the DJ’s docket than others. ‘Split’, is one of those songs made for goth night. When pop proclivities are smashed by the singularly shouted, “Split!,” Lukea rejects the advice, “Don’t let them see you hurt, they’ll think they won.” The song fluctuates between a restrained sway and a full-blown punch.

9. Last Laugh

Revenge escalates in the album. ‘Last Laugh’ is a track for a personalized revenge fantasy. “You’re so sorry?/ Well fuck your sorry/ I bet you’re sorry ass bitch.” If a children’s lesson could be severed from this album, it would be, in all scenarios, to make sure you’re the one with the mic and amp, and not the sucker inspiring the music.

10. Work or Shut Up

Sung with an attitude that would melt the face of the moon, ‘Work or Shut Up’ sounds like a crunchier, more industrial-punk version of Benny Banassi’s ‘Satisfaction’.

11. Jealousy Is Lethal

An ethereal, echoey intro to ‘Jealousy is Lethal’ invites the listener into the raspy ballad projected on high. “You can burn the witch but you can’t burn the truth/ Jealousy is lethal, hope it kills you soon,” Lukea sings with rebellion.

12. Gonna Be Faster

To conclude the album, Pixel Grip turns the burner down to a simmer, rather than a boil. The lyrics allude to the future, “I’m going to be faster/ I’m gonna do better,” as if the traumatic experiences that inspired previous lyrics have succinctly cemented themselves in the past. Music is cheaper than therapy.

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