ThatFuckingTankTFTG600G070312

There’s a bludgeoning onomatopoeia to That Fucking Tank. You can imagine the futile desperation as a runaway Challenger Two ploughs unerringly in your direction, clubbing, smashing and battering barricades into a pulp; a well-oiled machine wreaking battle-hardened justice. Powerful, primal and jacked-up on a breakneck energy, this duo create a damaging racket fired by a primitive purity.

Fuelled by the spirit of Mclusky’s fury and the simple dynamism of two band members, drums are beaten to an unhealthy, misshapen death as guitars are shanked and thrashed to a premature demise. From the shredding ‘Car on Fire’, the guttural speed punk on ‘Nailbomb’ and ‘D8’, and the riff-heavy ragged funk of ‘Acid Jam’, third album ‘TFT’ harnesses most of the simmering rage that powers this twosome. Live, they’re wracked with an explosive claustrophobia; trapped in headphones, it’s commuter decimation. Here, the heft and muscle stands toe-to-toe with both of its ferocious predecessors.

By Reef Younis

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