I picked this up on vinyl for $3 in Toronto while on tour in 1996. The cover, the band's name, and the album's title was just too "rapey" to resist. I didn't have much hope for the actual music inside, so this epic monument to mediocrity didn't disappoint. Some speed metalisms creep in but the fare here is wholly fluff. So is their anything redeeming about Easy Prey? Well, these dudes weren't bad players, and the lyrics of Jeff Prentice are a study in adolescent rape fantasy and pedestrian misogyny, but only when they aren't ruminating on typical '80s metal stuff like hell and Russia. On the back cover, the Predator has the prey over his shoulder and the mask is off revealing the fetal alcohol feaures of presumably one of Predator's helpful bros. I revisit this work every few years just to see if I can find any good in it. With every listen I drift off into thought, wondering if the members of Predator are somewhere toiling away at some day job and not telling their coworkers about this unfortunate chapter in their lives. I just can't imagine anyone standing around the water cooler saying "I used to play in a band back in the eighties called Predator, we released an album and everything, it was about rape and shit."