Frankfurt thrashers Tankard have returned to serve up another batch of freshly distilled bubbling brew with their newest libation, The Beauty And The Beer. After more than 20 years, these still fat, ugly, two-faced, stone-cold sober Kings of Beer have proven that they will never become traitors to Heavy Metal - the meaning of life. I implore you to gaze upon their beer-mug shots and see the rust and metal seething out of their pours.

I have been a dedicated fan of the screamin' victims and maniac forces ever since I first heard the track Empty Tankard, when I was a mere freshman in college. The captivating crunch and melodic overtones had me pining for more. Back then, I would try and try again to complete my meager collection for yet another steller 80´s Noise Records artist. As I discerned which band would become my debut review for Metal Covenant, I knew immediately it must be Tankard! My decision dawned on me the morning after I listened to the hard rock dinosaurs' latest mindwild and intense release. After several revolutions, I was again shaken not stirred with their incredible loudness!

The Beauty And The Beer is absolut´ validification that Tankard still know how to inspire a chemical invasion. This current potation contains all the essential metal and minerals; free of any poser pollutants. When a true Tankard fan purchases a Tankard CD he comes to expect four substantial ingredients: 1) beer & alcoholic humour 2) political drollery 3) true mettle humility 4) non-stop mega thrash til' death! The Beauty And The Beer quenches these quixotic urges and slakes the metal thirst by fulfilling the afore-mentioned formula. Tracks like We Still Drink the Old Ways, Frankfurt - We Need More Beers, and Shaken Not Stirredare replete with apt squizzle and guzzle ribald harmony. Politics and economics are accentuated in a hyperbolic fashion on tracks like "Forsaken World", which reminds me of Don´t Panic written almost two decades ago. I guess eschatology and the apocalypse always make for some serious F.U.N. Dirty Digger has an excellent quote, "Only James Bond can stop you...Tomorrow Never Dies!".

Metaltometal once again exemplies Tankard´s dedication to this recusant genre. Their not so deadly intention for the run-down quarter of music so maligned by their detractors is evidenced by these words, "Metal to Metal, Guts to Guts...no Techno, no Hip-hop, it's driving me nuts!". These Disco destroyers are here to make a mess in the west, even if they are not the rockstars no.1!

If you have not heard too much of Tankard´s music, Gerre´s vocals may acquire some audible adjustment. I enjoy his uniquely gruff and grout bellows. I can usually understand the lyrics and choruses, with little difficulty; then again I've been steeped in Tankard's sweat, puke, & vomit for over two decades. Clandestine author Mike Kipness has been penning several of their sardonic anthems for metal eternity. Vocals aside, the guitar work is akin to sonic brewtality and death by whips. Andy Gutjahr channels the original founding guitarist Axel Katzmann and Andy Bularopulos style of punk meets thrash aggression, prevalent on such classics like Chemical Invasion, The Morning After, Stone-cold Sober, and even Two-faced. Olaf´s cthonic drumbeat poison and lifelong bassist Frank Thorwarth's pounding acid death knell bring me endless pleasure! They play like deadmen drinking beyond the pubyard ready to have a tantrum.

My total addiction for all things Tankard makes me recommend this as their best release in over a decade. So if you are experiencing alcoholic nightmares and need money for beer, then you may have to wait to attain Tankard's latest draft; however, if you worship well-played blood, guts, and rock ´n´roll, you live to dive, and you have a real sense of humor for bands like this and other silly acts who play true metal like Nanowar and Hyades, Then by all means wallow up to the local Tankard roach motel, which is open all night somewhere in Beermuda.

While there in the land of the free, don't forget to feed the lahocla, and order some space beer and sixty-six six packs to go; but beware of the alien...for this is indeed a wonderful life...yeah, yeah, yeah!