It is difficult to hunt tigers in Hungary, it is not enough that the beast is not native to our country, but they do not even visit us. It took 46 years for Tygers Of Pan Tang to enter the walls of Analog Music Hall. We reached the jungle at 21:25, the other joke of the evening for me was the Mud hit, Tiger Feet, which opened the group's performance, and indeed, the clawed paws of the tiger reached out to us from the projector, as it was drawn on the cover of 'Live Blood'. The group's founding guitarist, Robb Weir, left his band after 4 records, and then he reorganized the band from scratch in 2000.Since then, drummer Craig Ellis has been with him, who also represents the older tigers, but he pushed the pace below the others in a way that belied his age, he was not in stealth mode at all. Among the younger Tigers, Jack Meille grew up in the Italian wilderness and, incidentally, also sings in Berci Hirleman's band, Sainted Sinners. He's a real front man, and he didn't hesitate to cut even the high C at the concert. The "baby tigers", who only recently joined the pack, are bassist Huw Holding, who brought the young, still long-haired John Waite into style, but his playing was just the opposite of his sleepy movements, and the youngest-looking, but more than 20 years old guitarist Francesco Marras looking back on his musical career. And the wildcats chased us down.

Right at the beginning with Euthanasia from the 'Wild Cat' record. Robb set the mood with a sambo-style talk box solo for Francesco to add virga. The show was almost identical to the concert album recorded last year and released this year in the 4th month, they played alternately from the first 4 and the last 4 records, and the new songs blended very well with the old ones. Jack communicated with the audience in a professional manner, if necessary, he made them sing, but once he took his phone out of the hand of one of the spectators and took a photo of the owner from the stage, making him a lasting memory. The background changed from time to time from one album cover to another, sometimes the giant tiger of 'Crazy Nights' imitating King Kong, sometimes the big cat mask of 'Ritual', sometimes the beast of the latest studio album, 'Bloodlines', bursting out of the trees in blood appeared in the place of the concert album, sensitive to the program aligned. Analog's only fault is the poor ventilation, recently Tommy Johansson also remarked at the Gary Moore Memorial that he is not used to it as a Swede, now Jack complained about how "fucking hot" it is in the room, and before Back For Good, which starts with a long bass run, the he also conferred his four-string operator as the man who never sweats. Except today. By the way, the new record is more hard rock than heavy metal, the riff of this Back For Good is reminiscent of Rainbow All Night Long, for example, and it's more of a hard rock foundation. But somehow, even then, their style changed from album to album, even then the 4th album became almost melodic hard rock, certainly with today's ear, even if at that time they stuck to the New Wave Of British Heavy Metal label. In any case, the audience responded well to the songs, and this made the musicians happy as well. Robb glued his plucker to his forehead, Jack sang sometimes kneeling, sometimes leaning on his back, if he wasn't commanding the crowd standing on the sound wall next to the drum machine or strangling Robb during his solo. At the end of Slave To Freedom, Robb spat water in the air, I thought, like Gene Simmons, it would have been more effective with blood, and it would have been appropriate for a tiger anyway. Jack, on the other hand, learned how to say "shit" in Hungarian. They were so satisfied not only with the audience, but also with the arrangement, that right there, during the concert, they publicly thanked Zoli Csillag for bringing them here to Hungary ("Zoli, you're the star to invite us!"), but after the concert, another In a Facebook post, they were also thanked for the organization in line with the textbook.

After the main show, they extorted a few minutes of applause - deservedly so - by withdrawing, and then in a two-song encore, after the iconic hit of the 'Spellbound' record, Hellbound, they said goodbye with a love potion successfully brewed by Searchers. Jack's production at the end of the song, supported by an echo sounder, was mostly reminiscent of David Coverdale's "baby, baby, baby" in his best days, it was ferocious. I didn't see that there was a sense of absence left in anyone, be it older or younger, although they didn't become as big stars as Iron Maiden or Saxon, with whom they started, but every movement of the genre is in their little finger, they pushed a really good party. I saw satisfied, smiling faces leaving. And the band could also be satisfied, because 46 years of deprivation took its toll: we practically ransacked the merch stand.

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