Other-Underground : Modrý tanky: Raw Post-Punk from Lesser Town Cellars

When people talked about Czechoslovak punk in the mid-1980s, most imagined wild, straightforward three-chord fast tracks. In the Prague underground, however, a band emerged that completely shattered those established stereotypes. Modrý tanky (Blue Tanks) brought darkness, nihilism, anti-militarism, and a musical depth to the scene that was far closer to the Western post-punk and gothic styles than to ordinary pub punk.

1. The Name as a Punk Mockery

The band was formed in November 1986 in Prague. Its name did not originate from military themes, but was a direct, ironic reaction to the pop-culture reality of the time. European hitparades back then were dominated by the German disco duo Modern Talking, which represented the absolute pinnacle of kitsch for contemporary punks and alternative fans. Czech rock fans mockingly nicknamed them “Modrý tanky”. When a bunch of guys from Lesser Town (Malá Strana) and Újezd started the band, this wordplay made the choice of name immediate.

2. Wild Beginnings and the Lesser Town Cellar (1986–1987)

The main engine, founder, and unmistakable frontman of the band was singer and lyricist Václav Kunc. Although the first lineup fell apart after just two months, the band’s survival was secured by a stroke of luck: Patrik “Tlusťoch” Eler lived in the very same building where they rehearsed in the cellar. He became their permanent drummer.

The rehearsal room hidden in the basements between Újezd and Malá Strana became a legendary spot where the band honed their sound. After cycling through several bizarre guitarists (who, according to memories, included fans of euro-disco and heavy metal), the lineup stabilized into this classic quartet:

• Václav Kunc – vocals, lyrics, keyboards
• Patrik „Tlusťoch“ Eler – drums
• Ian „Puding“ Gregar – guitar
• Lukáš „Brouk“ Brouček – bass guitar

Following an extensive period of preparation, they made their concert debut in March 1988 at a pub in Noutonice, performing alongside the then-emerging Tři sestry and Demoliční četa.

3. Musical Style and Two Legendary Demos

Modrý tanky were not your typical straightforward punk band. Their sound was dark, minimalist, and heavily influenced by British New Wave, gothic rock, and post-punk (drawing elements from bands like Killing Joke or The Cure). The music came together spontaneously: someone would bring a lyric, figure out a basic melody at home on an acoustic guitar, and the rest of the band would strip it down to a minimalist arrangement during rehearsal.

Alongside bands like Hrdinové nové fronty (HNF) or Kritická Situace, they possessed some of the strongest anti-militarist and nihilistic lyrics of their era. Their songs fought against small-town philistinism and carried the heavy existential anxiety of the late normalization period. During their existence, they recorded two essential cassette demos:

• Beznaděj (Hopelessness – 1987): A raw, home-recorded debut reflecting the dead-end atmosphere of late communism (featuring tracks like Modrý tanky, Láska?, or Vzpoura).
• Všechno je špatně, zpátky na stromy! (Everything is Wrong, Back to the Trees! – 1988): A darker, more sophisticated post-punk sound. The band successfully presented this set at the legendary Rockfest ’88. Singer Václav Kunc also drew an original band memo-game (“pexeso”) for this demo, which was included in the cassette booklets.

4. The Era of “Strahov Bands” and the End (1989–1991)

In 1989, Modrý tanky joined forces with other contemporary Prague alternative groups (such as Kurtizány z 25. Avenue, Rány těla, Čínská čtvrť, Couchette) to form the association Nezávislá Praha (Independent Prague). Their shared slogan was: “Independent Prague dependent only on itself, or everyone should play everywhere”. They played extensively at the legendary Club 007 in Strahov and regularly gathered at the Slávia cafe or the U Zpěváčků pub.

The definitive breakup came in the spring of 1991. Although the band had rehearsed a completely new program and a young Jan P. Muchow had joined the lineup, their sound shifted so drastically that only a shadow of the original Modrý tanky remained, leading them to call it quits.

Later Fates of the Members (Where Did They Go?)

Paradoxically, the dissolution of Modrý tanky jump-started the career of one of the most famous Czech bands of the 1990s and reinforced a leading punk formation:

• Ian “Puding” Gregar (guitar) & Jan P. Muchow: In the spring of 1991, they left the band and co-founded The Ecstasy of Saint Theresa. It became a cult indie-guitar band that was one of the very few Czech acts to break into the British charts and get airplay on BBC Radio by the legendary John Peel.
• Lukáš “Brouk” Brouček (bass): Right before the final split of the Tanks, he transferred to the Prague punk legend SPS.
• Patrik “Tlusťoch” Eler (drums): Following the breakup, he drummed for several other underground and alternative Prague projects.
• Václav Kunc (vocals): The frontman, lyricist, and author of their distinctive artwork completely withdrew from the stage after his music career. According to contemporaries, he eventually found his calling in an unconventional circus environment.

A Legacy from the Curb: Remembering a Pure Era

Unlike the guys from Michael’s Uncle, who went on a completely self-destructive drug ride in the wild nineties—which Amrit Sen later openly discussed in documentaries—most of the members of Modrý tanky moved into civilian professions. Today, they are in their fifties, fathers of families, and quite likely running their businesses somewhere in Prague or the countryside, much like my friends and I over a beer.

Even though the band operated in the deep underground and distributed their music exclusively on cassettes at the turn of the 80s and 90s, their legacy survived. In 2022 and 2023, both historical demos (Beznaděj and Všechno je špatně, zpátky na stromy) received professional remastering and were officially reissued on colored vinyl records under PHR Records.

It is fascinating how the scene worked back then. A band roaring from a basement onto the pavement flashed brilliantly for a moment, left a deep impression on the memory of a few people like me, and then drifted off into normal lives. But the memory of the street is eternal—that fourteen-year-old boy sitting on the curb outside the rehearsal room remembers them to this day! And how I would love to head back there tomorrow, completely carefree, living the life of that fourteen-year-old kid. Modrý tanky thus remain a pure symbol of the most authentic grit of Prague pavements and a genuine rebellion against the grey conformity of their time.