Tank, who recently moved from their record company Kamaflage, release their third album 'This Means War' on Music For Nations on June 10. It was produced by John Verity, probably most noted for his work with Saxon, and features new guitarist Micky Tucker, ex-White Spirit, who has joined the band to make it a four-piece.
(Sounds, 28/05/83) |
 TANK
'This Means War' (Music For Nations MFN3) ****½
When 2 Para took Goose Green with a display of courage rarely seen outside of Hollywood movies, they probably had little idea that a year later their valiant efforts would inspire a concept album as satisfyingly riotous, raw-knuckled and rowdy as this demonically paced, dynamically diamond delight.
The admirable Dennis Healey would doubtless suspect these terminally deafened beer drinkers and hell-raisers of 'glorying in slaughter' but, in reality, the Falklands factor as defined by Tank's third album owes more to Sgt Rock and the combat-happy Joes of Easy Company than the grim realities of napalm bombs and exocets.
This is the recorded equivalent of comic book blood 'n' guts but a genuine tribute none-the-less and one which would find a real echo in the hearts of the public. To the man in the street, the politicians fouled up so the troops had to go in to bash the fascists and clear up the mess.
It's a happy coincidence that Tank's celebration of their undoubted valour should come via their most consistently rewarding album release to date. I've long been an avid admirer of their particular brand of noxious noise, but the recruitment of an old White Spirit guitarist to augment Pete Brabb's somewhat more basic six-string somersaults is a stroke of genius.
Turner's wicked razor screeches like a Stuka screaming out of the sky all guns blazing, adding a whole new dimension to the sound and one that should enable the boys to bust out of the legendary Total Noise padded cell to reach a wider more, ahem, musically motivated heavy metal audience. Just as long as those fussy punters aren't put off by the cheap and nasty LP cover.
But none of this means Tank have lost any of their true grit. I'd wager even the SAS would appreciate the speed and savagery of their strike power. Listeners are advised to dig in and brace themselves for the blast. . .
The deceptive keyboards that open side one's epical 'Just Like Something Out Of Hell' flutter soothingly for a while before accelerating into an air-raid siren that introduces the song's real greased lightning rhythm.
Algy Ward reminds listeners of the Junta's cheeky spot of squatting, his melodic growl "I don't really think they knew what they were doing," he sings. "One thing they over-looked, just one vital fact, they never realised that we'd come flying back — just like something out of hell.'
It's a masterpiece of martial metal, suitably enhanced by a war-like guitar break reminiscent of bullets bursting over trench tops. Turner actually brings to mind Blackmore at his most populist, which is no mean feat.
Scene and standards set, the band proceed to demolish six more suitably bellicose outings ranging from the yomping stomp of 'Hot Lead, Cold Steel' to the propelling riff of the title track and the galloping piece-de-resistance. 'Echoes Of A Distant Battle'.
The sound is tough and tasty thru-out; admirers of the mob chorus will be well satisfied by the hollered punctuation of 'Hot Lead' and the defiant anthem 'If We Go, We Go Down Fighting', while that time-honoured Tank sense of humour shines through with the strange Zulu chants that bring side two to a close over a slow, hefty drum beat.
The po-faced will probably poo-poo the band's unashamed admiration for our fighting forces, but I'd predict most record buyers will be more interested in the band's new-found musical maturity than pacifist controversies. For myself, I think the funniest things about it (considering the odd quad's peculiar voting habits) is that the album bears the MFN logo — a muscular son of the soil sporting a rather attractive red flag.
As Mr Pat Wall, the bete noire of the Militant tendency would inform us, there's only one war to end all wars — the class war. See ya in '88, Maggie.
(Garry Bushell, Sounds, 25/06/93)
Tank, who've become a quartet with the addition of former White Spirit guitarist Micky Turner, launch their new album' This Means War' whihc is released by Music For Nations, with a gig at London's Marquee on June 13.
(Sounds, 25/06/83)
TANK
Marquee
"Are you enjoying yourselves?" growled ex-Damned bassist Algy Ward (whose singing, incidentally, makes Lemmy sound like Sinatra) to an embarrassingly silent crowd. Enjoying myself? Jeez, I've had more fun at a funeral. No wonder HM has such a bad name with bands like Tank carrying the banner.
I mean, this band could do for HM what Thatcher has done for unemployment: Sweet FA. I've experienced more excitement watching Channel Four in 3-D and even new guitarist Mickey Dolenz (wasn't it?), despite the odd flashing solo, couldn't haul the gig from the quagmire of pointless ear-splitting thrash.
'Walking barefoot over glass' was about the best song of the evening and coming second in the set, it offered some hope that after the appalling opener, the gig would become less painful. But I'm afraid that was just wishful thinking on my part and with every song - the one exception being 'This means war', the title track from the band's next album which kindled a faint, flickering flame of hope that the new elpee will be something worthwhile - I winced more.
Tank, it suddenly dawned on me, is certainly an apt name for this band; they bulldoze along in an unswerving line with the undeniable power of a Sherman. But they're also about as inventive and attractive as one and, judging by the mild ripples of polite applause they strained to squeeze from the largely impartial crowd, I wasn't the only one who wouldn't rather have been elsewhere.
It's never a pleasant task slamming a band, but I make no excuse here. Tank are one of the worst HM bands I've seen and surely the genre warrants more than that.
(Mark Putterford, Sounds, 02/07/83) |
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