Look at her! Isn't she gorgeous? Firm and fruity, probably overflowing with beer (this is Tankard after all) and able to drink you under the table at any given time. This is also an accurate description of what our favourite Germans bring to the table on this, their newest album, A Girl Called Cerveza. It's the same recipe they've been using since the eighties but hey: if it ain't broken, why fix it? That's not to say this is an absolute winner of an album but it's a more than decent addition to their catalogue, after the rather lackluster Vol(l)ume 14, which was quite the disappointment in my eyes after a great streak of albums that began with the terrific B-Day.

One misconception about Tankard is that in thirty years they haven't evolved at all, churning out the same album every two years. While it's true that in all that time they've never really left their favourite pub named Thrash 'n' Booze (just listen to Witchhunt 2.0 or Not One Day Dead), they have been adding some drops of heavy and power metal to their drink, resulting in a clear distinction between their eighties' and more recent output respectively. The only true constant in their career has been vocalist Gerre who, although technically quite limited, possesses a certain charm and goofiness which he hasn't lost after all these years and gallons of beer. Once again he delivers the perfect mix of melody and aggression, accompanied with his typically ridiculous, sometimes nearly backward lyrics. The latter part of that sentence isn't a complaint though, since those are an essential part of what makes every Tankard such a fun experience.

Interestingly enough the album starts off with Rapid Fire (A Tyrant's Elegy), a commentary on those dictators who convulsively try to hold on to their power, yet they deliver it with their tongues firmly in their cheeks, as usual. Just as on earlier albums Tankard serve us an interesting mix of beer fueled songs (the title track, Running on Fumes) as well as the aforementioned humorous social commentary (Rapid Fire, Witchhunt 2.0). But these would be nothing without the great riffing (and soloing, especially on Son of a Fridge) that accompanies them. This isn't the ferocious, aggression fueled thrashing we're talking about though, it's more of the typical lighthearted Tankard vein, aimed to make you rock out rather than literally thrash everything in sight. This is enhanced by the more clean production (courtesy of Nuclear Blast) yet somehow a certain grittiness remains, resulting in a perfect middle ground between the two.

This is far from a perfect album though. While it's a step up from predecessor Vol(l)ume 14, it doesn't reach the excellence of Beast of Bourbon for example. This is mainly due to a few rather unforgettable tracks such as The Metal Lady Boy (featuring a rather disappointing duet with Doro), a song I expected more from considering its hilarious title, and the far from bad but rather forgettable Son of a Fridge. Even the best tracks rarely reach that level we all know Tankard can achieve, yet the album does sound like a band that, even after all these years, is still having tons of fun and knows how to communicate that to the listener. And in the end, isn't that basically all we want from Tankard?