Wow, back in the day when the first few Tankard albums stumbled into the light like a wino from a dark alley, I never imagined these guys would be around very long. While amusing, they were the essence of a third tier act and didn’t stand out all that much even in the heyday of thrash. Well, since I now find myself reviewing album fourteen by these alcohol fueled Germanic thrashers, I would say I was pretty wrong about my initial impressions. While these guys were never in the same league as Sodom, Kreator or Destruction they still managed to become an enduring and productive minor league team. Unlike their bigger peers in the German thrash scene, Tankard was always silly, tongue-in-cheek and largely wrote on the few topics they knew best: drinking, partying and alcohol. Since I myself was a hard partying youth, I casually enjoyed their Chemical Invasion and The Morning After releases for their good humor and frantic pace. After that they dropped off my radar and only in the past week did I start getting to know the Tankard again. Although the goofy, “anything goes” feel is still there, the music and writing doesn’t hold up like I remember it. Once the nostalgia factor wore off, things started tasting a little skunky.
