Good old battleship Gorgoroth. They had nearly everything a black metal band could wish for. They have been around since 1992, they are Norwegian, they have the image, the statements, the credibility and a criminal record. You couldn't help not to like them but still they never had a completely outrageous album. Yes, they were good, but there has always been something missing or superfluous on them.

But not this time. Gorgoroth have upgraded their weaponry with Frost (Satyricon / 1349 drummer), cut off everything that wasn't necessary and delivered such an obnoxious, exhausting, multi-dimensional beast of an album that it could give nightmares to Satan himself.

These are some of the most evil sounds ever committed to a piece of plastic, delivered with absolute competence and authority by all the creatures involved. The guitar, courtesy of the founding member Infernus, has a harsh sound with glassy overtones, clear enough to be powerful and ominous, yet murky enough to prevent from revealing everything at once. From the devilish industrialized riffing of the opening track, appropriately named "Wound Upon Wound," it gradually progresses including more and more shades, layers, sonic waves and pure density towards the end of the album. There are moments where it sounds as though there are two bands playing at the same time, occasionally falling out of time with each other and snapping back together.

"Carving a Giant" features an instantly classic riff, right there along with "Mother North" or "I Am the Black Wizards." "God Seed (Twilight of the Idols)" is an exception from the general tempo – a three-chord slow theme with a three-note melody, yet creating a more schizophrenic feeling than any other attempt at Bathory worship ever.

The beginning of "Sign of an Open Eye" is simple – just one chord and a blastbeat. But what the hell are those sounds beneath them? It's followed by sweeping riffs so simple but so triumphant that they proudly shove a fist into the faces of all the pretenders. More speed metal, angular riffs, outbursts of (even more) violence and malevolence and unexpected breaks are to follow, and by the time you reach the end of the last track, "White Seed,", you'll be hearing voices... It's like the speakers are submerged in buckets of blood, no less.

What to say about Frost's drumming that hasn't been said a thousand times before? This is probably his best work since Rebel Extravaganza and all of his trademarks are here. There are simple rhythms making you wonder just... why?... and then he seems to engage another set of arms. The abundant blastbeats are tribal or militaristic in feel, and Ad Majorem Sathanas Gloriam is swarming with his blatantly simple fills, yet so effective and original that they make most other drummers sound like clowns. Enough said.

Gaahl sings like a man possessed. Fiendish screams, psychotic mantras, unexpected entrances and some new ways of paranoiac vocalisms, he leaves an impression of being right there where the rest of the music came from. Sometimes he seems to be just murmuring to himself – hey, really, why would he sing for us, subhumans unworthy of his attention?

Ad Majorem Sathanas Gloriam is only 30-something minutes long, but after you've listened to it there'll be nothing left. Nothing. Silence. Respect. (9.666/10)