A Document of the First Set,
That Fucking TankThat Fucking Tank are difficult to describe, so I’ll give you the first paragraph of the press release: (It’s lazy but It deserves reading…) “That Fucking Tank arose as a one-off performance by Andrew Abbott and James Islip of Leeds based noise rock band Kill Yourself, due to the third member living in Glasgow. All songs were written and rehearsed over a few hours a couple of days before the show. Due to the novelty of their equipment That Fucking Tank came to a crumbling halt 4 minutes into the set thanks to an irreplaceable string breakage. That Fucking Tank vowed to play one more show as they had spent money paying for rehearsal space that it would be bad to waste. That Fucking Tank are compulsive liars and have claimed that every show since is their last in a cheap bid to draw attention to themselves.”
With informal introductions over let me try and dissect and discuss the sheer audacity of ‘TfT’s’ music. First of all, it needs to be heard to be truly appreciated, and no amount of garbage that people such as myself write down will ever do them the justice they deserve. Secondly, there are no lyrics to be found amongst the five tracks, yet they seem to convey more emotion than most bands can only hope to muster in a song about girls or girls leaving them or girls moving away. From the stringy and biting guitar lines to the deceivingly mellow drum patterns every inch of each song is constructed quite elegantly. As ‘Against Me!’ put it, this shit rules.
‘Beegee Dinner Sex’ opens the EP up gently before a barrage of noise heads your way and the hypnotising hooks take center stage, and while all the tracks don’t differ too much from one another, there is enough within each to pull them off in a suitably likeable manner. ‘Some Kind O’Magician’ once again alternates beautifully between the bass and guitar into a hyptnotising cacophony of sounds that are in need of repeat listens to truly appreciate. ‘The rain travels all the way from Siberia and this is the first place it breaks’ isn’t quite as instantly appealing as its predecessor, but is likeable none the less, while remaining tracks ‘Botting for Columbine’ and ‘Gents’ simply cement what I have come to love with the band so early in its infancy. On a final note, the artwork and sleeve for the album is also an extremely dysfunctional yet ingenious play by the band as it unfolds into a mini poster of sorts and displays an amusing advert for the band. And if that impresses me then I must be falling for them.
There is no easy way to describe the two-man band campaign of That Fucking Tank, so all I can really do is tell you to find them and listen to them. The music is a joy to behold and gems such as this re-affirm your faith in all types of musical genre’s. Indeed, this record could fit snuggly into most people’s record collection, from mop haired indie kids to the gelled happiness of a young punker. And that is just about the highest accolade I could give.
Jay
www.thatfuckingtank.tk
www.jealousrecords.com
