Sharpshooter

Not a lot of love around here for Belgium’s Crossfire, but I don’t mind ‘em. No, they never made any great sonic advances, nor did they really sow their personal oats into the scene (not that anyone really searched all that hard), but at least they weren’t with the real losers all huddled together on the cellar floor wishing for warmth. If anything they were average, but average with aptitude. I actually see them a kernel or two above average, a rating that unraveled for me as this cool little project rolled along way back when, a six-songer that admittedly isn't fresh and/or vibrant for ‘86’s inescapable scene, but for the band itself it’s a near-clomp of a step forward.

Teleporting back about halfway through Second Attack, it’s fairly telltale that Crossfire’s sound has hardened to something burlier and meaner since the ‘83 debut, and from where I sit a year later it seems Sharpshooter has shit an even craggier brick. It’s said these tracks were torn from the same pages as the first two full-lengthers, written let’s say between ’82 and ’85. Well, there’s little doubt they’ve been updated… well, “Sound of War” is flung in from the olden If It’s Loud, We’re Proud split and comes off not at all revamped, but the coarse panache that has grown grittier with each lp slithers like bioengineered ivy onto “Break Out”, a one-dimensional treasure spinning tires somewhere in the Germany’s Warrant-meets-countrymen Warhead speed zone, only with more intrinsic encouragement, or so it seems. Yep, as I had hoped it’s finally gotten to where Crossfire are more self-reliant and assured in their growing restless drive, more ready to swing at the first guy to piss them off, and more and more Teutonic-sounding, kinda like Grave Digger at this point in time. But it doesn’t end in the studio.

Proven conclusively by the two live tracks (which I was expecting to nod off to), Crossfire are an unanticipated spirited live act, bulldozing in mounds of gusto for vocals ungarbled and frontal and riffs that take aim and unload. But what’s more surprising (stunning, actually) is the reception that arises from this particular boat of ’85 German show-goers. For “Motorcycle” and “Crossfire”, practically unknown tunes from the Metal Clogs compilation of ‘82, they’re simply ecstatic as they cheer, whistle, and sing along with the choruses, a rumpus that even dwarfs the band’s volume - all this for some of the group's most left field stuff. Well, maybe that’s why they’re all excited. A broader live picture comes with next year’s Live Attack, a full bore nine-tracker fresh from Belgium. Does their homeland give them the Germanic hail? We’ll see.

Pulled apart, there’s only an ep’s worth of untrodden gravel here to get stuck in your sneakers, but lifting your foot gets you some dusty, black n’ blue vagabonds from Crossfire’s annals, and for once the addition of live tracks doesn’t throw excitement into a bog. Probably a new Crossfire seeker’s best bet.