Celebrating 20 years of Ill Blood
Queuing up the seminal record’s anniversary ahead of Hold Your Ground Fest
Summer of 2012 was an interesting time for me. I had just finished school and moved back with my parents. I needed money and I wasn’t really qualified to do anything good or cool, so I took a temp job at a car parts factory about 40 minutes from my house. I spent the rest of my time playing guitar in my basement, trying and failing to start a band. I heard No Warning’s masterpiece Ill Blood for the first time under these depressing conditions.
Before Hard Times was a cheesy online parody publication, there was an unaffiliated site called HardTimes.ca, where two dudes from Montreal hosted a bunch of interview videos. These guys were crackpots and would ask hardcore bands shit like “do you believe in subterranean lizard people?” or “do you think jet fuel can melt steel beams?”
I used to watch a lot of these videos because they blended two of my greatest loves— DIY music and being an uncomfortable weirdo. The dudes who ran this site would always say Ill Blood was their favourite hardcore album, so I decided to check it out.
I knew hardcore to be one specific thing at the time. I was discovering the genre through that whole “modern wave” with bands like Touché Amore and Defeater as my gateway. Hardcore, to me, sounded like Bane, Have Heart and American Nightmare — or the other side of the coin, Harm’s Way, Weekend Nachos and Trash Talk. I knew other stuff was out there, but I didn’t think I liked it. That shit was for tough guys, jocks and idiots.
Then I heard the first two notes of “Short Fuse” and my life changed forever. I didn’t think it was possible to put that type of anger to tape. The hardcore I knew was sad, brooding and melodramatic. Ill Blood was the sort of two-finger fuck you I always loved from gangster rap but with music that was fierce, dangerous and catchy.
I would leave my shitty job at 11PM every night and throw my burnt CD copy of Ill Blood into the deck of my car. The intro to “Short Fuse”would start just as I reached the on-ramp to Highway 404 if I timed it right. I would floor it onto the dark road ahead, weaving in and out of traffic as I blasted the record at full volume. My life sucked, but I didn’t always have to be sad about it. I could stand up and say “fuck you” right back.
No Warning’s magnum opus is important to a lot of stories besides mine. You can’t tell the history of hardcore since the turn of the century without it. The scene was splintered when Ill Blood dropped in 2002. You had Posi Numbers Fest kids, Hellfest kids, and gang members who went to both festivals so they could beat people up with pool balls in socks.
No Warning, to my understanding, came from the more punk inspired posi-core world. They apparently drove ten hours to see the final Floorpunch show in 2000. They were also notorious in the American record trading scene for reasons that are none of my business. The posi movement was starting to warm on NYHC, with some of the Lockin’ Out Records stuff borrowing heavily from obscure demos by bands like Outburst and Underdog. No Warning took it a step further.
They started crate digging through what the weird, old gang members were into and cherry picked the best stuff — Madball, Biohazard, Crown of Thornz. The result was almost universally likeable. No Warning were one of the few bands who played both Posi Numbers and Hellfest. Ill Blood, along with the early Terror material, helped establish Bridge Nine Records as a sort of common ground that dominated by the landscape of the 2000’s.
The record’s impact was immediate. Imitators like Cruel Hand and Guns Up! found formidable success filling the gap as No Warning heel-turned to a more polished sound on their next record. The 2007 Trapped Under Ice demo was its own phenomenon, but it shared a lot of common musical ancestry. I’m not sure it would have reached as far without Ill Blood priming the pump.
Then the dominoes started to fall. Bitter End and Cold World took the Biohazard influence one step further and got huge. Reaper Records bands like Backtrack and Turnstile blew up. The Midwest sound started getting a little bouncier. Ten years after Ill Blood dropped, that streetwise, New York inspired flavour was inescapable. No Warning wasn’t the sole reason for NYHC’s resurgence, but they were a big part of the catalyst.
The band’s influence had a long tail, but their initial career was anti-climactic. After the success of Ill Blood they signed to a major label — Linkin Park’s Machine Shop Records. Their 2004 follow-up, Suffer Survive, was ripped apart by the hardcore scene for being too commercial. They lost a huge chunk of their core fanbase, and their attempts to cross over didn’t really pan out. They broke up in 2005, leaving a sour taste in many mouths.
Then in 2013, seemingly out of nowhere, vocalist Ben Cook announced No Warning was recording new music. I think enough time had passed that people were starting to remember the band for their highlights instead of the hot takes and hurt feelings surrounding Suffer Survive. Some kids were even coming around to that record!
No Warning started playing shows again semi-regularly, and their 2017 album Torture Culture was well respected throughout hardcore. Their legacy was cemented with lifer status, plus numerous generations of kids witnessing them live for the first time.
The band is regarded today as one of the best modern hardcore acts — especially by Canadians. Ill Blood is easily the most influential and, for my money, the best hardcore music Canada has ever produced. The record is the gold standard here. People talk about writing “the next Ill Blood” like Captain Ahab pondering the white whale.
The excitement in the scene has been palpable since Hold Your Ground Festival, Toronto’s up and coming answer to the big American hardcore fests, announced No Warning would be playing a 20 year anniversary set for Ill Blood at this year’s instalment. It’s going to be a celebration of the record’s lasting influence and its longevity as a stand-alone piece of music. Hardcore moves fast nowadays, and this record is older than some of the people who will be at the fest. Those kids only care because No Warning stands the test of time.
I feel the same way. My heart still pumps for this record a decade after I first heard it. I might not drive like an asshole much any more, but when I do, there’s a good chance I’m listening to Ill Blood.