Montreal black metal group Akitsa, led by Outre-Tombe ("O.T." henceforth), are a perplexing and fascinating entity. They are the sort of band that does more than their peers, but don't make much fuss about how they're "different." You hear a deep understanding of black metal's origins in their music as well as sneaky, understated radicalism. In particular, Akitsa combines the isolation of second-wave black metal, the primal punkiness of first wave, and power electronics into a defiant, affirming body of work. They also paved the way for the burgeoning Québécois black metal scene, while remaining above it all.
Grands Tyrans is their fifth full-length, their first since 2010's Au crépuscule de l'espérance, and it also sees O.T. taking over Akitsa from his bandmate Néant. It's their leanest and most focused effort, while not abandoning the diversity that puts them far ahead of many of their contemporaries. "Dévoilé" seems like a pretty typical black metal track at first: it opens with a brief passage of dry-toned guitar before giving way to six minutes of hallowed shrieks and melodies arising from static-like guitar. If you're a black metal fan, this is the sort of thing you've heard on plenty of budget cassettes. But O.T.'s ambitions come through in the forthright grandiosity of "Dévoilé"'s melody. "Faucon" is another song that elevates conventions, with O.T.'s playing creating a vicious slashing effect that's much harsher than what you would normally find in recordings this lo-fi. You can feel the purpose in his movements, as if he's actually harming the guitar itself.
O.T. doesn't deny starting out with the thrash basics like many a metalhead, and "Le feu de l'abîme" is the closest to classic metal that Akitsa's gotten. With O.T. warbling over what could be a blackened Manilla Road passage, "L'abîme" resembles present-day Darkthrone had they not abandoned the cold buzz they ushered in. "Chimères" takes the impulses of "L'abîme" and pushes them into nearly surrealistic realms. O.T. becomes a grinning jester, lending an almost Oi!-like wobble to his riffs and clean vocals. The title track warps doom into Akitsa's likeness not by just simply slowing the pace, but by laying down warped dungeon synth below and O.T. transforming his clean singing into a snotty cry. For all the shit black metal gets for drowning in the tars of tradition, Akitsa are adept at breathing new life into well-worn metal forms, then conforming them into their blackened vision.
