THE GRIPPER

What came first—the darkness or the playlist that makes you want to run straight into it?

Here's what I know: Pixel Grip is a Chicago darkwave trio—Rita Lukea on vocals, Jonathan Freund on synths, Tyler Ommen on drums—and they've been turning industrial dance music into something that feels like chasing ghosts through Wicker Park at 3 AM since 2016. Cold wave, they call it. Body music. The kind of thing that makes you wonder if you're running toward something or away from it. Probably both.

This playlist is thirteen tracks, and nine of them are Pixel Grip. That's not a collection, that's an obsession. I respect that. The curator didn't hedge, didn't try to be diplomatic about it. "Mostly Pixel Grip." Like saying "mostly breathing." It's the thing keeping you alive right now, why apologize?

The opening salvo—"Everytime," "Golden Moses," "Can't Compete"—establishes what we're doing here. This is EBM (Electronic Body Music, for those keeping score), but it's Chicago EBM, which means it's colder, more post-punk, less concerned with making you comfortable. Rita Lukea's vocals are detached but urgent, like someone delivering bad news from behind glass. The drum machines are relentless. Four-on-the-floor doesn't care if you're ready. You match the tempo or you fall behind.

By "Dancing on Your Grave" and "Demon Chaser," you're locked in. That's the thing about running to industrial music—it doesn't inspire you, it conscripts you. The beat isn't motivational, it's mechanical. Your footsteps become part of the machine. Mile two stops being about endurance and starts being about whether you can keep up with your own heartbeat.

Then "Pursuit" hits, and suddenly you remember why this playlist is called THE GRIPPER. That track doesn't let go. It's pursuit in the literal sense—something chasing you, or you chasing something you'll never catch. Probably both. The synth line is hypnotic, repetitive, the kind of thing that makes five minutes feel like thirty seconds. Time collapses when the beat is this insistent.

Top 5 Reasons This Playlist Feels Like Running From Your Own Thoughts:

1. Rita Lukea's vocal delivery—she sounds like she's reading your own anxieties back to you from a teleprompter, emotionless but somehow deeply personal.

2. The drum programming never breaks—no builds, no drops, just constant forward motion. You can't stop because the beat won't let you.

3. Every synth line is a loop. Not repetitive in a boring way, repetitive in a "this thought won't leave your head" way. The music is as obsessive as you are.

4. The cold wave aesthetic—it's dance music stripped of joy. You're moving, but not celebrating. Just moving because staying still is worse.

5. Nine Pixel Grip tracks in thirteen songs means you're not exploring, you're drilling down. This is commitment to a sound, to a mood, to a specific kind of discomfort that feels like clarity.

"Midnight & Angel (Slaev Remix)" shifts the energy slightly—still dark, but more atmospheric. Then "Die Slow (Tobacco Rmx)" brings in HEALTH, the LA noise rock outfit that's been soundtracking anxiety since 2007. They're perfect here because they understand what Pixel Grip understands: sometimes music isn't supposed to make you feel better, it's supposed to make you feel accurate. And if you're running at dawn because you couldn't sleep, because your brain won't shut up, because the only thing that works is physically exhausting yourself—then yeah, "Die Slow" is accurate.

"Suicide Beat" and "L.A. LOOKS" keep you in that zone. By mile four, maybe five, you're not thinking about pace or distance anymore. You're just locked into the rhythm, and the rhythm is dark, and that's fine. Better than fine. It's honest.

The wall, when it comes, isn't about your legs. It's about whether you can stay inside this sound, this mood, this particular flavor of forward motion. And that's where track nine lands.