Part of the same Edmonton underground that birthed black/death warmongers Revenge, A.M.S.G. is the latest project from multi-instrumentalist Ryan Page, aka Angelfukk Witchhammer of Gloria Diaboli, Ouroboros and the mindfucking chaos-storm known as Rites of Thy Degringolade. With his latest band (whose name is an acronym for Ad Majorem Satanae Gloriam, or "For the Greater Glory of Satan"), Page remains committed to the intense Satanic imagery and philosophies that have marked his previous work, unleashing a vision of anti-human hatred and evil via a killer, experimental black metal assault across the band's debut album Anti-Cosmic Tyranny. I had already been looking forward to hearing this just based on how much I've dug his previous bands, but when I finally heard this disc and its complex, sometimes saxophone-smeared black delirium, I was totally sold. The music is, unsurprisingly, deeply rooted in the classic, icy blackness of second wave Nordic black metal, but A.M.S.G. take that sound and mutate it into something that ends up sounding new, blending in bits of violent noise and proggy song structures, and adding that dark jazzy quality via the sax into two of these tracks, which unsurprisingly ended up being my favorite on the disc. Anti-Cosmic tyranny opens with a blast of excoriating black noise, a mass of rumbling electronic chaos and low-frequency sonic rot that could easily be mistaken for The Rita, if it weren't for the harsh, monstrous vocals that scream across the blown-out black static. The band roars out of that churning amp-filth into the "Black Rites Of Black Shadows", unleashing a vicious black metal assault with spiraling baroque melodies and somewhat complex arrangements, and tons of grim, subterranean atmosphere. But just as the band drops into one of their slower, lurching passages of discordant gloom, we're greeted by that sudden appearance of saxophone, belting out some killer noir jazz lines over the blackened guitars and roiling drums. From there, the band continues to weave their weirdness into the violent, swarming black metal, making interesting use of chaotic off-kilter breakdowns and complex rhythms, the sudden tempo changes and odd meters recalling the swirling chaos of Page's old band Rites of Thy Degringolade.
There are some moments of straight forward blackened heaviness that absolutely rip, like the wicked old-school blackthrash of "Blood Bone And Blackthorn ", but those are contrasted with songs like "Reincarnation Of The Sun", which features reverb-drenched post-punk guitar smeared in psychedelic backwards sound and strange samples, and for a moment it slips into something that sounds more like the gnarled gloom rock of Circle Of Ouroborus. Some vicious, chittering electronic noise introduces "Sacrificial Chants Of Cosmic Separation", which later explodes into pummeling doom-laden heaviness and cascades of eerie chorus-drenched guitar before slipping into a cyclonic finale of blasting inchoate chaos. There are passages of liturgical chanting run through some weird vocoder-like effect, and the songs are limned with subtle touches of electronic noise, murky sample-laden soundscapes and crazed vocal effects that add further otherworldly ambience. Those wretched, ripped-throat screams deal in some pretty wordy lyrics, too; each song reads like a different Satanic prayer, a surrealist religious vision that Page delivers in a breathless, almost ecstatic fury. This stuff is fucking ferocious, a maniacal black metal assault laced with some killer experimental touches, crafting a strange, jazz-flecked mutation of classic black metal. A killer debut album.
Comes in jewel case packaging with a printed slipcover.