AMSG's supreme misanthrope Angelfukk Witchhammer has reappropriated the black-noise approach for texture instead of identity, realizing that injections of unbridled terror can be more effective than a tank full of it. AMSG embraces raw, primitive black metal with both arms and both legs, but also remembers it has a fifth appendage to just fuck around with. When you feel the crackly intros to "Black Rites of Black Shadows" and "Sacrificial Chants of Cosmic Separation" sliding over your nether regions seeking entry, when you hear the ghostly choir and saxophone moans on "Gnosis Granted from the Bloodline of Fire" slipping past your kvlt defenses, when you notice the phase-shifted tirade in "Blood Bone and Blackthorn", you know you've been penetrated. Several songs have enough bone-dry, lo-fi, turn-on-a-dime sections to be Brown Jenkins tracks, though the sonic details evident on every shroud-shredding piece would never have appeared on a BJ record (hee hee... bj record). Like the bad luck numbers or the Dharma-tattooed shark from the _Lost_ television series, those quirky untroo moments keep listeners on seat-edges, right where we want to be.

Flat, trebly black metal was always meant to express hatred for humanity. Mr. Witchhammer wades deep into his forebears' primal disgust, then hates the haters right back by branding the style with his own musicality and studio embellishments. By rights, old-school black metal malevolence should be played out and washed up by now. _Anti Cosmic Tyranny_ proves that there's plenty of fresh sarcophagus dust and face paint left in those old tombs. Scrape some on your face and get Angelfukked.