On their newest release, I’ve Seen All I Need To See is a kerosine fire that by gaslight, illuminates a call back to their previous records where the percussion is more authenticated and the howls are more hellish. Both Chip King and Lee Buford are the maestros of the chaos which were first personally introduced with their 2014 release I Shall Die Here that was striking for its brevity amongst the sequences of death.
Memorable for not just their instantly recognizable sound and atmospheric building, but the tension rises with each release and I’ve Seen All I Need To See is less about forcing the hand of self-slaughter but to bring about a mercy killing from The Body. “Tied Up And Locked In” forces this rumbling underneath the surface as if it was a manhole explosion with hard percussion from Buford and vocals from King that conquer the ears. There is less of a focus built around the idea of featuring other vocalists or artists here and a burning desire to introduce only two guests to the record.
Both Chrissy Wolpert and Ben Eberle bring ice to the stereo, but it is still on the foundational grounds where The Body takes instrumentational pain to a new level. “Tied Up and Locked In” is a marker where approachability becomes a forefront for The Body. A band that was always built around the idea of crushing and pulverizing until the listener is ashes in the palm, seams split here for I’ve Seen All I Need To See and it awakens a distant evil.
Taking the simple pattern for percussion on “Eschatological Imperative” with droning out-of-tune snare smacks and pings. The basement recordings clash with the immaculately low-tuned strings that hit like atom bombs. The instrumental continues with some vocalization from King but the main focus relies on the harsh feedback that cuts suddenly like a slit throat into ritual murder.
Over the eight tracks present here and the near 40-minutes of eternal walls of noise, I’ve Seen All I Need To See on the final track, “Path Of Failure” resembles war. The isolative planes that fly overhead and drown out any sound, the synth wails that resemble buildings crumbling, and the percussion sporadic as gunfire; The Body are criminalistic here. Masterminds of downfalls, the eagle trembles as I’ve Seen All I Need To See paints the face with mud and adorns cuts over the eyes, ensuring a permeant gaze into the audience. The Body looks through you here, becoming death, destroyer, and eater of worlds.
When the cold bitter isolative hell goes belly up, The Body slices willingly, giving no formation of artful action to stand on. It is negative, it is unable to conform, it is The Body at some of their best presentative performances yet.