The Crucible of Man (Something Wicked - Part 2)

When an artist is as proud of their own work as Schaffer is of his Something Wicked concept, one can’t help but sit up and pay attention. When the band’s gallop-happy guitarist first presented the three-song concept on the Something Wicked This Way Comes album, traditional/thrash/power fans took immediate notice to that trilogy’s blend of sheer riffing and vocal strength and urgent storytelling. Some years later, we have these two albums encompassing the Something Wicked story in its entirety.

I enjoyed Framing Armageddon. I really did. Even though it started getting drawn-out both musically and conceptually around the last third of its running time, the record maintained a good sense of itself as a concept album, with moodier, intense numbers like Motivation Of Man contrasting with deliberate crunchers like Order Of The Rose, serving the moods of the concept as well as being musically competent in their own right.

What the hell happened between that and this? Much like the movie I mentioned in this review’s header, it’s like Schaffer completely lost focus halfway through writing the series – and the final product, while bearing some enjoyable segments taken individually, is bound to satisfy very few who had hoped for something that lives up to the expectations naturally set for it by its predecessor.

I know that the lack of dynamic is a common complaint against Iced Earth, but until now I scoffed at those complaints: the dynamic was always clearly there, even though perhaps superficially so by way of arbitrarily-placed soft sections amidst otherwise powery thrashers. But with The Crucible Of Man…there’s next to no dynamic, and that’s not an attack I level lightly. There is almost nothing on this record that slides out of the mid-paced territory, plodding along before coming to unspectacular finishes that I can’t fairly call “climaxes”. Some bands can get away with this kind of thing, but then, those bands don’t base their entire songwriting repertoire around a very select grouping of by-now overused riffs. The result is a very homogenous mix, very unmemorable on the whole.

Now, because this is an album that rides so heavily on its concept, I feel it only fair to contrast this mess with the first half of the story, Framing Armageddon. That album’s commendable (For IE, anyway) sense of dynamic was brought to a head with the one-two punch of The Domino Decree and the title track – two furious numbers that brought about Tim Owens’ most wonderful vocal performance of his career. The man’s inhuman shrieks on both tracks brought the Setian rage to a palatable level and channeled the fury of the original The Coming Curse song.

Meanwhile, The Crucible Of Man does nothing with its lofty concept – and it seems that nearly every time it’s presented with a natural opportunity to throw a curve ball the listener’s way, it goes out of its way to be as drearily mind-numbing as possible. Take Something Wicked (Part III) – I can’t be the only one who was disappointed when the song reprised the infamous Coming Curse chug section, only to fizzle out into nothingness without doing anything to honour the beloved Barlow shriek section of the song. They might as well have not reprised it at all, or given the song some semblance of a climax whatsoever. My quibble here isn’t just ‘Oh no they didn’t reprise my favourite part!’, it’s that it’s an unintentional example of what goes on all through the record: this disc seems BENT on disappointing the eager listener. Not many albums do that: I don’t like Gamma Ray’s first three albums like I love their later stuff, but I can look at those first three albums as a genuine effort to entertain that didn’t quite cut it for me, just for an easy example. No, The Crucible Of Man hates you, dear reader, and it’s hell-bent on letting you know that with every listen.

I’ve avoided talking about the elephant (policeman?) in the corner for this long, so…I’m not sure exactly what Schaffer was thinking by bringing back fan-favourite Barlow back in the middle of a double concept album deal. For the purpose of the story’s integrity, it just doesn’t make sense. But then, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that it doesn’t really matter much from a musical perspective here. After all, I can count on one finger (after thoroughly listening to this record, guess which one) the times when the songwriting here lets the singer actually let loose with what they’re capable of. Again, after Framing Armageddon, this kind of dynamic should come naturally to a writer wanting to craft a good story and entertaining record, so I’m still convinced the darned thing actually goes out of its way to be boring.

But I can’t write the whole record off as a waste of my time, money and possible sanity. There are some songs here and there that shine bright – granted, they wouldn’t hold a candle to, say, Burnt Offerings’ title track, but at least they display some semblance of personality, which automatically puts them a notch above the rest of this monotonous dreck.

A Gift Or A Curse?, the token ballad, shocked me in that this, Iced Earth’s most creative and least-cliché ballad, has thrived on their least creative album ever. The vocal tradeoffs are both soothing and interesting to listen to, and the midsection displays an actual example of (gasp!) dynamic, however straightforward it may be. Album single I Walk Alone is fairly effective for what it is: a brutish, powerful stomper that comes as swift as it goes and leaves a positive impression for its forwardness and conviction.

Come What May, the album centerpiece, contains one of the most cathartic moments of Iced Earth’s discography – after the softer, tribal break, when Barlow is belting the final bridge with a passion unparalleled by the rest of the album. This moment is made all the more triumphant by it being the only moment of its kind on the whole album – a fact that also makes it frustrating in equal doses. If this kind of passion is present on the climactic track, where was it when the rest of the album was mulling over monotone, unadventurous drivel for the past hour?

This is not a bad record. It’s not a good record. It seems to concentrate all its energies on being as mediocre as possible – and I condemn this far more harshly than I would have if I had gotten the vibe that the Schaffer and co. had honestly tried and just slipped up along the way as far as writing interesting material goes, which is what I believe happened with The Glorious Burden minus the wonderful Gettysburg trilogy.

Die-hard Iced Earth fans, approach with extreme caution. This is my first failing score on this site, and I’m normally extremely generous with anything I listen to. But this album isn’t just a failure musically. It’s lost within itself conceptually, and it makes almost every conceivable effort to be as disappointing as possible. For everyone else, Download Come What May and maybe A Gift Or A Curse?, and stay away otherwise.

I can’t fathom what Schaffer was hoping to do with this record, but it certainly wasn’t to impress.