Resurrections - Unearthing the latest extreme metal reissues album review

Despite the public disagreement with Tom G Warrior that meant June’s set of Celtic Frost reissues weren’t everything they could have been, the resurrected Noise Records can’t be faulted for effort when it comes to unearthing their esteemed back catalogue. Often in hardback book form and with extensive sleevenotes and archive pictures, the albums reissued by Voivod, Kreator and Running Wild thus far have proved worth the investment, whether you own the originals or not. Now turning their attention to TANKARD, one of German thrash’s founding fathers, and a band whose singular subject of interest (‘focus’ not being a particularly apt noun in this instance) has perhaps left them overlooked compared to their bullet-belted, Teutonic bretheren. If their first two albums, 1986’s Zombie Attack [8] and 1897’s Chemical Invasion [8] suggest Andreas ‘Gerre’ Geremia and co were driven by the same bracing, endtimes apprehension that’s become synonymous with thrash, bear in mind that the debut album’s opening title track contained the lyrics ‘I wake up, this was a dream, I drink my beer/But then I see a zombie killin’, I know I must die’, laying down an undead army/beer keg equation that’s lasted for three decades, not least thanks to Municipal Waste. Amongst the proto-d-beat pummelling, Gerre’s urchin yelp, reminiscent of Voivod frontman Snake, and the general sense of having run pell mell into some derelict, urban outpost chimed perfectly with the enervated yet wide-eyed spirit of the late 80s. Chemical Invasion took a tighter, eye-bulging grip on your nutsack, while follow-ups The Morning After [8] ramped up the speed metal urgency to exhilarating effect. There’s another batch to come, but also out are five albums by folk metal pioneers SKYCLAD, the likes of 1991‘s The Wayward Sons Of Mother Earth [7] and A Burnt Offering For The Bone Idol [7] fusing thrash grit and pagan grandeur.