Body Count - Bloodlust

Angry Metal Guy

As longtime readers may know, I have a special place in my heart for L.A. street metal combo Body Count. Their debut album is an indisputable cult classic, and follow-ups Born Dead and Violent Demise were equally essential to the soundtrack of my misanthropic youth. BC suffered some setbacks since the early days, including the deaths of three original members. 2014’s Manslaughter seems to have been the comeback the band needed, and now Ice-T and co. are making a case for modern metal legitimacy with Bloodlust.

Opener “Civil War” kicks off with a spoken intro from right-winger and born-again Christian Dave Mustaine (Megadeth), who seemed about as likely as Charlton Heston to appear on a BC record. The song’s doomy pace kicks up a notch or three towards the end, as Mustaine reappears to lay down some tasty soloing. The guest appearances continue with Max Cavalera (Soulfly), who co-wrote and shares lead vocals on “All Love Is Lost.” As a big, stupid Chaos AD-style groove rolls by, Ice-T and Max lash out against those who have scorned them (Ice seems to be singing about an ex-girlfriend; Max’s lyrics could conceivably be directed towards Andreas Kisser).

Track 5 is a cover of Slayer‘s “Raining Blood/Postmortem,” not unlike the Suicidal Tendencies cover on Manslaughter. It’s not particularly well done — Ernie C. and Juan Of the Dead might be the only two metal guitarists on earth who don’t know how to play that signature riff, and bassist Vincent Price’s lead vocal on “Postmortem” approaches parody. The song begins with a brief explanation by Ice-T, suggesting that he’s aware that this track requires some justification.

Lyrically, Ice-T is one of very few people who have seen street life from both within and without, and this results in an interesting duality on record. On “No Lives Matter,” Ice correctly points out that America has a class war in addition to a racial one. But on “The Ski Mask Way” he’s in full-on gangster mode, conducting a home invasion during the song’s bridge. The two viewpoints collide on “This Is Why We Ride” (co-written with God Forbid‘s Doc Coyle) which seems to lament gang violence while simultaneously justifying its causes. Iceberg’s lyrical approach works best on the title track, where he describes all of mankind’s self-destructive tendencies as a “sickness.” It seems like current events have kickstarted Ice-T’s more socially-conscious lyrics, which is never a bad thing.

“Walk With Me” is among the most aggressive tracks in the BC catalog, with blast beats and near-black metal trem picking, not to mention a furious guest vocal by Randy Blythe (Lamb Of God). “Here I Go Again” finds Ice playing the role of serial killer over a horribly dated groove, suggesting the short-lived “horror rap” of the early ’90s. “Black Hoodie” is clearly intended to be a “Cop Killer”-style anthem, but while the subject matter is tailor-made to become a BC classic, the song is derailed by weak riffs and some corny-ass ICP-style “whoop whoops” on the chorus.

Bloodlust is as professional as Body Count gets, with slick production, guest stars and outside songwriters — and I guess that’s what feels wrong about it to me. BC‘s best albums felt sloppy and low-budget, which gave it a grindhouse vibe and a sense of urgency (see also: Darkthrone, early ’80s punk rock, the entire Cannon Films catalog). Present-day Body Count has been boiled down to little more than breakdown riffs, and a lot of it sounds like Ice-T fronting any Hatebreed-wannabe groove/hardcore band. To his credit, Ice is trying to express some heavy ideas, but his flow is not what it used to be. I’m already seeing a lot of press hailing Bloodlust as “Body Count‘s best record yet” or some such bullshit. Don’t believe the hype.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: Streaming
Label: Century Media
Websites: bodycountband.com | facebook.com/bodycountofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 31, 2017

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Pitchfork 57

It takes a special balance to straddle the line between piousness and self-parody, but Tracy Marrow, aka Ice-T, has long pulled it off with gusto. Since the beginning of his 1987 hip-hop debut Rhyme Pays, Marrow has relished his self-appointed role as something like Crenshaw, Los Angeles’ unofficial ambassador to the world. As Marrow once explained to Arsenio Hall in 1989, his m.o. has been to intentionally paint exaggerated scenarios in order to show the world what street hustling life is like while also discouraging black youth from pursuing a life of crime. In 1990, Marrow carried the same approach over into metal group Body Count, which he founded with southpaw guitarist Ernie Cunnigan aka Ernie C.

In an interlude on Body Count’s seventh album, Bloodlust, Marrow explains that he started the band to provide the metal-loving Cunnigan with a musical vehicle while also expressing his own love for three key influences: Black Sabbath, Suicidal Tendencies, and Slayer. If you don't mind Marrow’s didactic style, the impromptu Q&A comes off with some charm, as if Marrow were standing at a lectern expounding on the band’s history. (Hell, if Steve Albini can take questions halfway through Shellac’s shows, why shouldn’t Marrow do the same on his own records?) In fact, much of this album plays like the 2015 TED Talk Marrow gave at the Sing Sing maximum-security prison, only set to a bracing thrashcore/groove metal soundtrack.

On his own, Ice-T has maintained household-name status for his 17-year role as Detective Tutuola on the “Law and Order: Special Victims Unit” TV series. But the last time Body Count caused any real ripples in the zeitgeist came in the summers of ’91 and ’92, first as a surprise addition to Ice-T’s rap set on the inaugural Lollapalooza tour, and then as the source of a heated controversy over their song “Cop Killer.” Marrow ultimately agreed to pull “Cop Killer” from later pressings of the band’s 1992 debut. Since then, the band has basically repeated itself, almost becoming a heritage act before its time. These days, Body Count can operate in a comfortable space satisfying the public’s niche appetites for vintage metal and hardcore.

But now, owing to the recent occurrences of police brutality captured on video, Body Count stand poised to hit a nerve once again. Marrow attempts to do so most blatantly on “No Lives Matter.” No surprise, he explains the song’s motives in a monologue before it even begins. It’s not, as the ironic title might suggest, a renunciation of the Black Lives Matter movement, but a reminder that although racism is very much alive, power elites view all poor people with the same inhumane disregard. Similarly, Marrow waxes professorial at the beginning of the title track, where he says: “Since the beginning of time, humans have killed each other because they disagreed... The ability to kill is as innate as our ability to love.”

Needless to say, Marrow likes to spell things out. On Bloodlust, he sounds like he’s narrating a profanity-laced “Sesame Street” segment: Imagine an Ice-T muppet popping out of garbage cans shouting, “They’re shootin’ at cops/They’re pushing the line/Racism is high/The country’s divided, you know the fuck why.../The public is dumb.../Our leaders are evil!” Bloodlust is like that; it doesn’t take long to feel like you’re being patronized. That said, Marrow—who doesn’t rhyme on Body Count albums—is simply following in the footsteps of his most pointedly direct hardcore influences. For proof, just look at the Exploited medley he recorded with Slayer in 1993. But his style hasn’t changed one iota since then. Neither, really, has the rest of the band’s. They keep the music raw enough that it sounds almost-but-not-quite amateurish—again, following in the hardcore/early-thrash tradition—while Marrow’s willingness to indulge in comic absurdity with the lyrics makes Body Count’s preachiness more palatable.

Bloodlust opens with a mock emergency broadcast announcement, in which Megadeth leader Dave Mustaine announces that martial law has been declared by the Department of Homeland Security, that gatherings of two or more people are now illegal, that “all traitors will be shot,” and that “America is now engaged in civil war.” It’s hokey as hell. But what makes Ice-T still valuable in a world where we now have Killer Mike, Dälek, the Coup, and Immortal Technique is his unique ability to deliver a message of upheaval that also feels celebratory. Later in the opening track, there’s a giddy sense of anticipation when Ice yells “I’m feelin’ the tension/Don’t tell me you don’t.../Rich or poor, urban war/This shit just might jump off tonight” over squealing leads. At moments like that, Ice-T and Ernie C capture the energy of a party record while urging us to give serious consideration to some of the most naggingly persistent issues of our time—an accomplishment regardless of how spotty Bloodlust gets.