The fifth album from Asian Dub Foundation, Tank is presented here as a handsome, double vinyl reissue complete with three bonus tracks. Released in tandem with the previously reviewed Enemy Of The Enemy, Tank was originally released in 2005 and saw the band joined by Ghetto Priest (On-U Sound) on vocals. As with Enemy…, it’s a handsome package the label have put together, featuring the album remastered and housed in a gatefold sleeve complete with poster. This, combined with the fact that it’s the album’s first outing on vinyl, makes this something of a must for collectors. It certainly sounds the part, crisply remastered and pressed on crackle-free black vinyl,
Opening with the synth-heavy Flyover, a thrilling mix of churning drum ‘n’ bass (complete with squealing, Chandrasonic lead guitar, Flyover nevertheless has a strong melodic edge, not least in a dub-friendly chorus that recalls Dreadzone. Ominous strings pave the way for the title track, the opening of which is presented as a corrupted nursery rhyme, before a heavy bass line takes things into more traditional ADF pastures. With the repeated lyric of “awaken Mesopotamia” summoning the spectre of the Iraq War (which had begun two years previous), it powerfully refutes the spurious notion of WMDs with the cynical line “get on your knees and thank Christ for the bomb”, a line that has only become more pertinent in light of developments since the album’s release. Fortunately, not everything is as dark, and the lovely dub intro to Hope plays over a track that seeks to energise the young, even in the face of the previous generation’s greed. The first side concludes with the toughened hip hop of Round Up (feat. MC Lord Kimo on lead vocals), a track that returns to the sunblasted sands of the desert, as doors are kicked in by unquestioning soldiers. However, the action doesn’t remain in a far-flung conflict, and by the song’s conclusion, those same forces are coming for you.
Opening in a squeal of electronic noise, the tense Oil is a furious and articulate evisceration of the motives behind the invasion, juxtaposing the cradle of civilisation with a president who has less brain power than a smart bomb over a punishing, bass-heavy backing track. The slithery bass of Powerlines (feat. Mad Mike) sees the album head in a Leftfield direction, with an emphasis on the dancefloor, and it proves to be an effective break from the furious polemic found elsewhere. In contrast, Who Runs The Place emerges lost in swirling, choral vocal samples, before a stripped-down beat takes the piece in a more stripped-down direction, placing firm emphasis on the vocals. The second side concludes with Take Back The Power, a strident call to arms that feels even more potent in the era of restricted protest and increasingly right wing governance. With skittering drum ‘n’ bass beats, furious, punky Chandrasonic guitar and dub vocals, it’s every bit the powerful anthem it needed to be, and it ends the second side with a bang.
Emerging from a hazy drone, the gorgeous dub vocals of Warring Dhol leads us into a track that edges into the hypnotic triphop of early Massive Attack, albeit with a darkly schizophrenic edge that sees tougher raps delivered like machine gun bullets. Yet, that darkness doesn’t have to eclipse everything and ADF, always that most mindful of acts, allow their rage to be tempered by the hope of Tomorrow Begins Today, a lyrically brilliant, musically lovely track that pours oil on troubled waters. The album concludes with Melody 7, a haunting refrain that reminds the listener that, for all the articulate lyrics on display, ADF are superlative musicians first and foremost, as capable of conjuring up raw emotion in the absence of vocals as they are of inciting action with their fierce polemic. It’s a gorgeous coda to a powerful album, and it stays with the listener long after the record has concluded.
For those whose appetite is still not sated, the final side finds the bonus tracks neatly grouped together. Easy Man (feat. Perry Farrel, sounding suspiciously like Bobby Gillespie), sees the redoubtable Adrian Sherwood layering skittering drum and bass, crowd sounds and ferocious rap into a surprisingly blissed out track. Next up, the deliriously chunky intro to Power Up (Sun J Remix) plunges the band headlong into industrial territory, Chandrasonic’s guitars used as a battering ram before things turn in a more drum ‘n’ bass direction. It’s a piece aimed squarely at the dancefloor, albeit a dancefloor packed with flailing, and possibly broken, limbs. The final track, Round Up (Shiva Sound System Remix), is a rather more straightforward remix, opting for a toughened beat and, cut up vocal samples and plenty of synth. It doesn’t fully live up to the brilliance of the original track, but (like all three of the bonus tracks, in honesty), it’s more of a nice extra than an essential addition.
Tank is an album that offers a powerful critique of the society that spawned it (much of the criticism still depressingly relevant today), but which avoids the pitfall of becoming lost in its own darkness, by tempering its disdain with messages of hope. Musically, it’s an adventurous album that takes in everything from crackly drum ‘n’ bass to eerie drone and art rock. Beautifully pressed and presented, this vinyl edition (the first time the album has been released in this format) is an absolutely essential addition to any ADF fan’s collection. 9/10
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