Body Count, rapper Ice-T’s high- charting hardcore rock group, really couldn’t lose from the start: If the worst thing to be said about it is that closet metalhead Ice-T can’t sing, like, considering the genre, who can? Lyrics? Which do you like better? a) ”Take a ride on my love machine, baby,” b) ”By the bloody sword of Sadus,” or c) ”Here come them f—in’ niggas with their fancy cars/Who gave them f—in’ niggas those rock guitars?” (Hint: Body Count voted ”c.”) For all I know, all Body Counts‘s lyrics are heartfelt — though considering the subject matter, which includes killing cops and dismembering your mom because she’s a racist, I hope not. But the bottom line is that, compared with Iron Maiden or Slaughter, this stuff verges on Shakespearean. And ”Evil Dick” — in which the singer, caught ”skeezin”’ on his girl, blames not himself but his, uh, you- know-what — could pass for a B side by protopunk greats the Dictators. Moronic, sexist, profane, gratuitously violent, loud, and morally reprehensible — yep, a heavy-metal album. But this time it’s a good one. A-
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