by Ed Rivadavia

Two years after rehearsing a relative return to basics with 2002's suitably named Genesis album, Greece's Rotting Christ forge into realms unknown once again with their ninth studio album, the semi-conceptual Sanctus Diavolos. Now, longtime listeners will know that Rotting Christ's albums have often insinuated a ceremonial occasion; but with Sanctus Diavolos, the black metal icons appear to have come up with an outright ritual -- an intricate black mass of sorts, which possesses a song-to-song cohesion they have rarely attempted before. Initial offerings come fast and furious: starting with the decapitating intensity of "Visions of a Blind Order," the "Carmina Burana" recalling choruses of "Thy Wings Thy Thorns Thy Sin," and the positively terrifying, almost marshal display of "Athanasi Este" -- all of which find vocalist Sakis Tolis waging battle with massed choirs of the damned -- not to mention frequent use of samples. And yet, ironically, Sanctus Diavolos is Rotting Christ's first effort after returning to a barebones trio formation, making it evident that no small amount of studio trickery (welcome as it is, given the results) was employed to create this album. To that end, it's worth pointing out the surprising improvements heard in the rhythmic department, where complex tracks like those named above and the particularly awesome "Tyrannical" would suggest that the technically impaired Themis Tolis has been transformed overnight -- either by a drum machine or miraculously learning to play like a machine -- into a percussive colossus! All questions and contradictions considered, however, there's still no denying the overwhelmingly positive outcome achieved on Sanctus Diavolos, which, as often as it dips into the severely atonal "You My Cross," the oppressive "Shades of Evil," and the at times plodding "Doctrine," it counters them with surprisingly musical, even beautiful, passages snuck into the very same songs. Furthermore, there are additional highlights yet to come, including the very non-metallic chanting of "Sanctimonious," the speedy, densely layered (and nearly danceable!) fury of "Serve in Heaven," and the mesmerizing invocation of the all-encompassing title track. All in all, Sanctus Diavolos marks yet another astoundingly consistent and, even more amazing, immediate effort from a band that never seems to take a day off.