Parisian four piece, the enigmatically named Anna Sage, seem to come in from the cold, having formed in 2012, released their debut EP in 2017 and then despite a smattering of support slots with such scene luminaries as 68 and Direwolves, disappeared only to stage the greatest comeback since Lazarus with this their first full length effort which on the face of it, should make one Mr. Nick Griffiths esq. a very happy man indeed for no other reason than the music that emanates from these French folk, falls right into the Venn diagram of my happy place. Given the musical touchpoints referenced by the always dreadful PR nonsense that accompanies new releases, The Chariot, Botch and Norma Jean are floated as suitable musical comparisons and seeing as those three bands oscillate in and out of my top 10 bands of all time, it would seem we have somewhat of a potential ear worm of an album that I will obsessively listen to until I must leave said band/album alone for five years. I have form here and have managed to spoil my relationship with several bands for periods of time, after over binging on them (Hum and Spotlights are recent examples of a lack of musical self-control).
And so, to Anna Sage, any good? The answer to that question is…yes…mostly. There is much to enjoy on this self-titled album and almost all of it is down to their tight, precision tooled, yet loose and free-formed angular guitar riffs that rain down like a pigeon cack after said pigeon has snaffled the remnants of a three-day old egg sandwich after a beak full of tramp’s piss mixed with a discarded can of Red Bull. Messy, yet controlled. At times, the songs on this album seem to be on the brink of falling apart, think of the discordant chaos of say The Dillinger Escape Plan mixed with the less experimental musings of Rolo Tomassi. It’s super frantic, million an hour drums that roar along on a bed of skanky guitars that build up a meaty wall before slowing the pace slightly which is where (and I am somewhat of a broken record when it comes to this observation) I feel the true talent of the band lies. When the less frantic passages of music segue to a more grinding tempo, like a slightly less down tuned approximation of Will Haven with Converge styled screamed lyrics and a delicacy with tempo shits and chord progressions, it’s these more powerful interludes where the band truly find the right groove. It’s here when the rubber hits the road, that the hugely impressive vocals really come into their own. And its album highlight for me ‘V’, where an epic guitar roar/drone wall of sound is deployed to great effect, that’s two parts Sumac, one part Isis and nine tenths a malfunctioning engine for an Airbus 380. It ups the tempo from glorious drone, to slamming up tempo pounding that, in truth does recall certain aspects of Botch, but it does lack the more jazz and Avant Garde sprinkles of magic dust that Tacoma’s finest bought to the table. That the song manages to pivot its conclusion into almost black metal territories, suggests that this is a band that is not afraid to embrace a wide church of musical influences, and does it’s best to keep the listener on their toes.
In summary, given the build-up that Anna Stage have had, coupled with the lofty nomenclature of bands that this album/band have been compared with, it was always going to be a battle that the band could not win. But, rather than dwell on the possibly unwarranted musical comparisons, judging the band purely on their musical merits, this self-titled album has enough creativity, groove, bounce and chug to make it stand out from the crowd and when you add a vocalist with some premier league screamo pipes into the equation, it all coalesces into a solid and at times excellent album.
(7.5/10 Nick Griffiths)
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