The Year the Sun Died

Do you like heavy metal? Then step in, this is your room of pleasure. “Arise and Purify”, the opener of Sanctuary’s double output (comeback and probably farewell in one) will make you feel good. Its first tones draw you into the album in a matter of seconds, the double bass motivates all musicians, the spooky bridge sets a fine impulse and the catchy chorus as well as the following solo have everything it needs to shape a few fantastic minutes of metallic glory. Needless to say, the track is empowered by a perfect sound with voluminous guitars, powerful drums, a pumping bass and, naturally, the voice of Warrel Dane (R.I.P.). It does not come as a surprise, but one more time, his charismatic and variable vocals give the album its individuality. By the way, I am speaking of a really good album. It does not express the fact that 24 years lie between the band’s second work and this one. Sanctuary did not modify their style and there was no reason to do this. 80% of the line-up of “Into the Mirror Black” reappeared on “The Year the Sun Died” and these guys as well as the new guitarist had a lot of metal particles in their blood, if I am not mistaken. Yes, there are less heavy songs than “Arise and Purify” on this output. Anyway, a more than solid number of them have this raw authenticity that separates true metal from clowns who think they are part of the scene. I do not drop names here, I am discreet. Moreover, I do not want to read the horrible word Sabaton in this review.

The first half of “The Year the Sun Died” is more or less filled to the brim with good music. “Let the Serpent Follow Me” takes the same route as the opener, although it offers an almost thoughtful chorus, a kind of contrast to the guitar power that dominates the remaining parts of the song. “Frozen” completes the triumvirate. The recipe is the same again, but the liveliness of the verses, the concise bridge and the excellent, melodic yet heavy chorus make me nearly cry in view of the fact that I forgot to check the album already in 2014. These songs show how Priest would sound if they had not lose their compass after “Defenders of the Faith”. This does not mean that the songs have Priest-compatible vibes. But this is the problem of Rob Halford’s nursing home’s community, not the one of “The Year the Sun Died”. The remaining tunes of the album’s first half deliver solid riffs, sometimes with a slightly psychedelic touch or a tragic undertone and always ennobled by Darrel’s top-class voice.

“One Final Day (Sworn to Believe)” kicks off the second half, but unfortunately, it also marks the point where the full-length begins to drift away. It’s not bad, a kind of power ballad with some discreet Wild West vibes, but without any chance to compete with the highlights. Of course, the powerful production is still there. But even the perfect technical implementation cannot hide that songs like “The Dying Age” suffer a bit from a whiny undertone. I do not say that the material lacks atmosphere. It is rather a problem that too much maturity can kill energy. It’s still good music with a lot of fine details executed by competent technicians. Nevertheless, I miss some percent of power and fury which cannot be compensated by the dignified grandeur of Moonspell-compatible songs like the title track. Regardless of these bagatelles, Sanctuary make an unforced error with the performance of a needless cover song at the end of the album. Too bad that this seems weak number seems to become their ultimate legacy. Anyway, if we ignore this isolated case, “The Year the Sun Died” houses a lot of strong material. What more can we expect from an album?

I can already see the flaming arrows pointing at me from a distance but that doesn't deter me from showering this mighty record with high praise. Yes indeed, I prefer this over everything in the Nevermore canon and The Year the Sun Died also delivers more successful punches than the rest of Sanctuary's discography. Admittedly, I've never been a huge fan of the above named groups aggregate discographies, but Into the Mirror Black did click with me years ago...and then this, their 2014 reunion release, turned out to be their crowning achievement, surprisingly.

Phew. Now that I've gotten this out of my system, I might as well explain what's so good about The Year the Sun Died:

1. Warrel Dane: His performance here is passionate, sinister and full of foreboding. By 2014 he had already lost quite some of his high-pitch-craziness and this lack of early - sometimes overdone - vocal acrobatics does certainly help in enhancing the dark mood of this CD, as his multilayered lower-register is just a lot more exhilarating. His forays into falsetto-land are few and far between but every time he does 'em here, they actually fit like a glove onto the instrumentals ("Arise and Purify" especially). Close to a decade ago, the speculations about the health of the late Warrel Dane seemed rather bleak, the man having spent his final years in rather dark places...so unsurprisingly, the lyrics herein are a fascinating blend of anger, anguish, well even few glimpses of hope, perhaps reflecting the ongoing battle with his inner demons ("I Am Low"):

"I am high today, but I still feel the shame. If I fly tomorrow, would anyone remember my worthless name?"

Goosebumps, really.

2. The soloing. The riffs: Brad Hull and Lenny Rutledge are absolutely slaying it. I know everybody's raving about Jeff Loomis' lead guitar skills all the time and while the man is certainly a highly competent artist (who's rotting away nearly unused in Arch Enemy now, but hey - it pays the rent) he is simply not grabbing me nearly as much as these two guys do here in terms of memorability and on a sheer emotional level. Their ability to blend technical fretboard-blitzes with simple melodies to perfectly hum along to is astounding. No signs of all flash and no substance present.

The riffs are definitely not quite as technical as Nevermore's, but all the more skull-battering and the groove-factor within them is excitingly prominent without crossing over into 90s-meathead territory. Modern heavy metal with a fair bit of darkness-dripping doom influence entrenched in a gloomy Gothic atmosphere that totally satisfies the plastic bag-self-suffocating joyboy in me.

3. The production: Holy hell, this album sounds fat. It has a very spacious feel to it, there's many layers deliciously woven into this rich, dynamic soundscape, no matter whether it's the somber clean guitar offerings in the balladesque areas of the record or the venomous sting of the more belligerent solo constructions in “Frozen”, there's always a sturdy balance between every element, albeit with a pronounced, thundering low-end standing out slightly.

So yeah, it certainly does sound more like Nevermore than it does Refuge Denied but I couldn't care less. I do perfectly understand why Sanctuary fans would hold this fact against The Year the Sun Died but I couldn't care less. The splendid, infectious songwriting ways presented within these fifty minutes spew forth a fantastic album that manages to be a regular guest in my car stereo, my workstation monitor speakers and in the shower, as I keep spreading the word of the late Mr. Dane to my neighbors, jaywalkers and other unsuspecting victims. The Year the Sun Died is the culmination of Warrel Dane's career, a late climax that nobody expected and few people quite acknowledge in a way that seems appropriate for a masterpiece like it. Eh, I couldn't care less, I have my own pedestal to put it onto.

Highlights: Everything, but especially “Arise and Purify”, “I Am Low” and “The Year the Sun Died”.


originally written for http://antichristmagazine.com

When I heard Sanctuary was reuniting in 2010, I was ecstatic. Refuge Denied is one of my top five favorite albums, and while I enjoyed much of Warrel Dane and Jim Sheppard's work in Nevermore (though not the catastrophe that was the band's final album), I was fascinated by the potential of a reunited Sanctuary.

Then the live videos of Dane attempting to sing the old stuff began to surface, and it became evident that Into The Mirror Black, Pt. 2, let alone anything even coming near Refuge Denied, was completely off the table. Save for a bizarrely strong, 1995-quality performance of much of the band's back catalog, including an essentially perfect version of "Battle Angels" (seriously, if you're a Sanctuary fan and you haven't seen those videos, YouTube NOW), at a 2011 show in Athens, Dane croaked his way through the shows like an demented emphysema patient trying to pass a kidney stone. Yeah, I know he's old and shouldn't be expected to sound like he did in 1987, but I can't think of a singer that's aged worse in that timeframe. The man simply hasn't taken care of his voice at all; he got away with it in Nevermore with his still-formidable bass approach and a talent for lyrics and atmosphere, but put back in the power-thrash Sanctuary formula, saying he's exposed is putting it lightly.

As such, my expectations for the long-delayed Sanctuary reunion album The Year the Sun Died couldn't really have been much lower. With all due respect to guitarists Lenny Rutledge and (now-ex) Brad Hull, bassist Sheppard, and drummer Dave Budbill, the vast majority of the hook of the band's reformation was the idea of Dane unchained. The live performances clearly showed that any attempt in that direction would be laughable, though, so the question was whether the band would do it anyway in a misguided "give the fans what they want" move, or whether they'd water the music down, creating something more palatable while muting the driving attack that made Sanctuary so special in the first place.

They chose the latter here, which was the right move, even if that small part of me (and probably many others) will always have the one percent of the brain that wonders if they could've gotten something like that Athens show if Warrel had like 500 takes per line. The end result ends up sounding like a much more streamlined version of Nevermore, sort of like what Nevermore must have been trying for with The Obsidian Conspiracy.

The Nevermore comparison has to do more with the atmosphere of the songs, driven by Dane's patented brand of dark storytelling and dissonant melodicism, than it does with the instrumentalists. Rutledge and Hull's riffing is far less distinctive than Jeff Loomis' instantly identifiable approach, and Budbill's straight-ahead pounding doesn't touch the dexterity of Van Williams. However, Dane's presence pulls the other members into the same dark, haunting space that the "Evolution 169"s of the Nevermore world established over a decade ago. The note choice and order is all different, but somehow it almost doesn't matter...maybe because, again, Sanctuary is effectively Warrel's vehicle.

And, against all odds, this album kind of works. There's nothing on here that touches Refuge Denied (with one exception I'll get to in a bit), but there are several tracks that are enjoyable, and almost everything is listenable. Single "Frozen" rides some galloping rhythms and crowded melodies into a typically expansive (if slightly anticlimactic) Dane chorus. "Let the Serpent Follow Me" and "Question Existence Fading" share that formula, with the latter having particularly strong results (and a heck of a bridge that taps into his low register). Much of the rest of the album, though, is taken up with slower, plodding songs. Of these "One Final Day (Sworn to Believe)" is the most intriguing, with some interesting acoustic guitar work from Rutledge (including a very nifty solo) and a surprisingly explosive turn from Dane. "I Am Low" creates some decent atmosphere, like a third-rate Sabbath song, but "Exitium" and "The Dying Age" stay mired in the mud without advancing anywhere. Nevermore could make songs like this work ("Sell My Heart for Stones" and "Who Decides") because Loomis and Williams would lend just enough compelling backing to really elevate the material, pushing Warrel into interesting spaces rather than merely basking in his aura. Rutledge, in contrast, is content to ride the same boring riffs in these tracks.

Still, though, expecting all the tracks to make an impact was far too much--even Nevermore's strongest efforts had some missteps. Heck, even Refuge Denied had "Termination Force." Ultimately, The Year The Sun Died is pretty enjoyable. It's got some nice songs (certainly better than those on The Obsidian Conspiracy), Dane sounds inspired (though still very limited--his highest full-voice note here is a G4), Budbill has progressed beyond the rote approach of Sanctuary's early albums and shows the ability to throw in the occasional tasty fill, there are a few good riffs, and perhaps most importantly, the album is well-produced. It is nice to hear Rutledge and Budbill, in particular, given suitable sounds.

So, really, The Year the Sun Died is as good as anyone could reasonably have expected it to be. Not great, but good enough that it provides a bit of a nostalgia kick and also has occasional non-nostalgic merits. But that leaves one remaining question: What of Dane's high vocals? Well, they do show up in three places: the chorus of "Arise and Purify," the bridge of "Let the Serpent Follow Me," and the end of "Question Existence Fading." Rather than exposing them out in front, the band cleverly layers them (with the exception of the last note of "Arise and Purify," which is questionable but kind of fun) as octave harmonies above leads that are in Dane's comfortable range. It gives these sections the feeling of '80s Sanctuary without revealing Warrel's inadequacies, which frankly was a pretty genius move. It also makes "Arise and Purify" easily the highlight of the album, a massive, roaring track that actually manages to come somewhat close to the band's past glories.

And here's that nagging one percent...what if The Year the Sun Died contained a bunch of songs like that? Now that would be the most amazing, against-all-odds comeback imaginable. We didn't get that album, but at least we got the one great song (and some other solid ones). Hey, one great song, one great live show...it's better than nothing, right? The Year the Sun Died may not fulfill our wildest dreams, but given Dane's limitations and his bandmates' anonymity, it considerably exceeds any reasonable expectations.

There is a certain wariness that is not only understandable, but expected when a seminal USPM band that's been defunct for over 20 years makes a sudden return under the circumstances that marked the seeming demise of the one that grew out of it. Perhaps it is unfair to expect a full out faithful rendition of the glory of late 80s metallic brilliance out of a group of tired middle-aged guys, many of whom have been basking in the distant world of metallic modernity. Then again, during the period of Nevermore's hiatus following The Obsidian Conspiracy (arguably one of the best works), the reunion tour of Sanctuary definitely gave an impression that the good old days would be making a return of some degree, especially given the enthusiasm shown by Warrel Dane as he began forcing himself to hit notes live that he hadn't recreated in the studio since 1990. It was largely due to the expectations built up by these last couple years prior to 2014 that Sanctuary's supposedly comeback album The Year The Sun Died turned out to be a musical dud to many ears, though it's also a disappointment when compared to the past few Nevermore releases.

To dispense with the obvious, this album showcases a band of musicians that founded a formidable band in the mid 80s that have since become a vehicle for something wholly alien to what they once were. Musically, this is a Nevermore album minus the technical intrigue of Jeff Loomis' guitar work, or for those who want something closer to a perfect analogy, this could be Warrel Dane's second solo album. It's literally to the point where it sounds like Dane and Sheppard took Lenny Rutledge aside and gave him a crash course on how to write groove metal riffs and how to imitate Loomis' lead guitar sound while not quite being able to duplicate all of the more flashy gymnastic runs. The drum work has similarly taken on more of a plodding, mid-tempo character with occasional rhythmic twists that do a bit more to justify the progressive part of their style than the rest of the music, but doesn't really result in anything impressive or even approaching the flash of a typical Symphony X album. In fact, apart from Dane cleaning his voice up a bit and occasionally going a bit higher than usual (largely sounding like a haggard Rob Halford imitation when not butchering a mid-ranged Geoff Tate or a hypnotic Barry White), this listens like the bottom end of Nevermore's middle era with an over-produced gloss.

The chief weakness with an album like this is that despite all of the implicit claims of accessibility mixed with stylistic adventurism that goes with the style's label, it's generally an exercise in stagnation and unmemorable side-stints into occasional fits of variation. Each individual song doesn't really have outright impact, but tends to leave a nebulous impression of different degrees of cynicism and revulsion, of course being centered around Dane's "love to hate" relationship with both religion and modern society. Tiresome and woefully forgettable mid-paced bores such as "Arise And Purify" and "Let The Serpent Follow Me" largely rely upon obvious lyrical cadence points during the choruses and moderately engaging guitar solo work to sugar over what is otherwise an uninteresting pile of chug riffs and guitar harmonies. Things get even more sleep-inducing when they break out the acoustic balladry on "I Am Low" and "One Final Day", each culminating in depressingly predictable songwriting with a melodramatic overcompensation of Dane's bellowing vocals. The rest of the album generally tends to follow the monotony of the earlier songs mentioned, with only "Frozen" and "The World Is Wired" showing any real signs of life, and there generally from more of a chugging post-thrash perspective where the tempo is kicked up a bit, but the feel is still generally overly obsessed with atmosphere and comes up short on impact.

Even though this would not pass for a decent Nevermore album had Dane and Loomis come to some sort of compromise regarding whether another guitarist would stand in for him, it's a particularly bad venture when considering that this is a de facto successor to Into The Mirror Black, which was among the better power metal albums to come out of the U.S. in the early 90s, let alone this album's inevitable association with the enthralling 80s masterpiece of Refuge Denied. At the very least, Dane could have dispensed with the market pandering by simply designating this as another solo album, though that would not have saved this thing. Others have naturally been a bit more charitable in their estimation of this musical failure given that Warrel Dane has opted for a vocal sound that's a bit less grating and cringe-worthy compared to Nevermore's 90s material, but in the estimation of this review's author, a tolerable voice can only take one so far, and in this case it was a few small steps away from complete rot. It's not too much to expect better out of this band, and frankly speaking, this latest musical warning against the danger of cults is almost enough to inspire one to start a real world branch of Unitology.

Hands up if you miss Nevermore? Yeah, me too, but while the status of that iconic metal band remains unknown and not looking to continue any time soon, all is not lost. An old band, thought to be gone forever has been resurrected. Before Nevermore, there was Sanctuary, a band that formed in 1985 and disbanded in 1992, with Nevermore rising from its ashes.

Now it seems as though the reverse has happened, with Sanctuary being revived 18 years after being disbanded. In the same year Nevermore released what would look to be their final album, 'The Ophidian Conspiracy', Warrel Dane released a compilation album containing remastered versions of Sanctuary's two albums, 1987's 'Refuge Denied' and 1989's 'Into the Mirror Black', as a sign that this band could be making a mighty return to the metal scene. Four years later, that sign has become reality with Sanctuary releasing their third and latest album, 'The Year the Sun Died'.

Version 2.0 of Sanctuary is almost the same as the original line-up, with only guitarist Sean Blosl not reuniting with drummer Dave Budbill, guitarist Lenny Rutledge, bassist Jim Sheppard (ex-Nevermore), and vocalist Warrel Dane. While another ex-Nevermore member, Jeff Loomis, played live shows with Sanctuary in both 1992 and 2010-11, he has chosen to stick with his current bands (Conquering Dystopia and Jeff Loomis). Sanctuary brought in ex-Forced Entry guitarist Brad Hull to complete the line-up in 2011 and the same line-up that continues today.

Of course you're all wondering if this resurrected version of Sanctuary sounds anything like Nevermore. Well, yes and no to be precise. Of course there will always been a sound connection with Nevermore, but there's no point making Sanctuary a Nevermore clone, you may as well keep Nevermore going. With Sanctuary's progressive/groove metal style, there are quite a few band similarities other than Nevermore, which include Metal Church, Helstar, Iced Earth, Control Denied, and even Queensryche.

The fusion of progressive and groove metal which Nevermore mastered in their time has been brought into Sanctuary's revamped and refreshing sound, featuring complex song-writing, wonderful melodies, crunching guitar riffs, and Warrel Dane's unique vocal tones. Sanctuary feels like the lighter side of the darker Nevermore, although still lies within those gloomy and bleak attributes, but not as bogged down as Nevermore had them. The majority of the tracks on 'The Year the Sun Died' are at a slower pace, but if you know Dane's superior song-writing skills, the tempo of songs change considerably throughout.

While there have been comparisons made against Lenny Rutledge to Jeff Loomis, I feel that he nicely holds his own on this release and doesn't try to sound like Loomis. The same goes for Brad Hull and the two combined put on an almighty performance, with riffs aplenty, a tonne of power and crunch and excellent solos thrown in here and there. The album also flows so smoothly from beginning to end, and the songs are quite different from one another, but they are connected too. At 53 years of age, Warrel Dane sounds as good as ever, still breaking out those signature shrieks in parts here and there as he did with Nevermore, but on this release there is much more harmony as he sings more fluidly. There is less to no anger in his vocals, which was also the case with Nevermore.

I can't remember the last time a heard an album that is so consistent from start to end like it is here with 'The Year the Sun Died'. Every track is a standout, and can listen through over and over without getting bored or sick of it. With every listen, something new appears that you may have missed the previous time. Absolute killer tracks on this excellent disc include "Question Existence Fading", "Arise and Purify", "Frozen", "The World is Wired", and "Exitium (Anthem of the Living)".

In the end, while knowing how good a song-writer Warrel Dane is, I wasn't expecting anything exceptional, but that's what I got. Sanctuary's sound is a modern progression from Nevermore, however with a touch of less grunt and forcefulness. However, that takes nothing away from this brilliant release that more than makes up for it with supreme song-writing, precise guitar work from Hull and Rutledge and the vocal performance of Dane, who sounds more than on top of his game. Of course old Nevermore fans should engulf this release, but more so fans of modern heavy metal, power/prog and prog/groove metal should have a listen to the new and improved Sanctuary. One of the best for 2014.

Originally written for www.themetalforge.com

Sanctuary is best known as the group that predated Nevermore. Don’t be blown away by my enthusiasm. With Nevermore in the can, most of Sanctuary’s original members reconnected and produced “The Year the Sun Died” twenty-five years after the band released its second record in 1989. Sanctuary’s legacy is solid, not renowned—there is a difference between the cults and the classics, you know. Well, “The Year the Sun Died” is ultimately a nontoxic, predictable product of metal geared to sound modern and comfortable in 2014. A staunch continuation of the Nevermore sound, this is a fairly underwhelming experience that adds just a smidge of relevancy to the Sanctuary brand, an album based more on a few prime moments than its actual songs.

Sure, the Nevermore contrasts were inevitable. However, they take what should have been dribbles of Nevermore’s influence and escalate it far beyond its acceptable perimeters. If we’re looking at a representative song like, say, “Arise and Purify,” it’s easy to see Sanctuary is not fooling anyone by pretending to be beating around the bush. Mid-paced, mechanical-sounding riffs are stacked up like flapjacks and layered in place by plentiful guitar solos brought together under a squeaky-clean production job. Unfortunately, all these guitar parts go in one ear and out the other, unable to sound interesting or appealing. There is a degree of admirable sophistication in all the patterns and riffs, but since maybe one out of five actually sticks, “The Year the Sun Died” comes off sounding more miss than hit.

The curse of the mundane routine is everlasting: “Question Existence Fading” or “The World is Wired” is just as foreign to me after fifteen listens or so as it was after the first. Warrel Dane’s low register and unique tone sound decent in the setting, but the sort of personality he added to the old Sanctuary and Nevermore albums is more of a gimmick than much-needed charisma. His lyrical exploits are downright goofy at times; the abstract bellyaching never throws in the towel. The whole process of FOLLOWING STUFF BLINDLY and WE’RE ALL SLAVES gets old fast, and it’s obvious at this point that “The Year the Sun Died” fell on its face upon ignition and never bothered to turn itself over. Down and out before the first snap.

Some of the band’s work here deserves credit, however. The eerie, apocalyptic semblance of the title track aligns Sanctuary’s newfound musical traits in what can only be described as the record’s single homerun—the potential and power organized perfectly in a well-executed package. “Exitium (Anthem of the Living),” too, is a solid piece of this course branching out to a more atmosphere-based direction that opens up the creativity and the options for Sanctuary to work with. Pretty dire situation barring the aforementioned tracks, and while the ideas are here, the ability to present profound material is not. Take “The Year the Sun Died” as a conduit for the Nevermore sound to continue, not the resurrection of a cult group.

This review was written for: www.Thrashpit.com

Over the past several years there has been quite the trend of classic heavy metal bands reforming and playing shows again. Many of them never actually materialize into recording another album and reform with a drastically different lineup, but the good intentions are still there on letting their music be heard once again. Sanctuary out of Seattle appeared to fit right in with this current trend. After releasing a couple of monumental power/thrash albums in the late 80s, many wondered what would the 90s hold for them? The answer to that was pretty much nothing. They broke up in 1992 around the time grunge started to take over everything. A few years later a couple of the members went on to form Nevermore and never looked back. There comes a time though where nostalgia creeps in and Sanctuary decided that they wanted to give their music another chance. After an incredible performance at Progpower USA upon reforming in 2010 it appeared as though they were once again off the radar. They mentioned they were working on new material and after placing Nevermore on hold it was finally able to come to pass.

The Year the Sun Died gives a monumental amount of hope to me for many of the other classic bands that have started performing live again. As much as I love a good concert, it is always great to have new, enjoyable physical media from some of your favorite bands of the past. Sanctuary have decided to pick up pretty much where they left off, unleashing a wall of dark guitar riffs on top of Warrel Dane's trademark mellow yet menacing vocals. For a man who is getting up there in the age, his voice has not remotely faltered over the years. It is also great to see that virtually all of the band's classic lineup is still in tact.

The album kicks off with a very dark and brooding track called Arise and Purify, which right away reminds me more of Into the Mirror Black and the natural evolution that lead to the creation of Nevermore. The song is relatively slow, but extremely heavy and dark. Unlike Nevermore the guitars take a bit of a back seat. The riffs become more important than a flashy display of guitar virtuosity. It is sometimes refreshing to see a band who wishes to put their music ahead of their playing ability.

Question Existence Fading actually starts off making me think of their song Future Tense. It has a very strong social message to it as well as having some really strong vocal lines and one of the best guitar solos from the album. From this point I can see that the album doesn't really feel the need to focus on the higher register of Dane's voice. From actually getting to see them live relatively recently I can assure you that this aspect of his voice is not remotely gone. It seems as though they are feeling that the message to their music is as equally as important as their technical chops.

There are several tracks on here that I would much more attribute to Nevermore than Sanctuary, which seeing how much of a foundation they share is understandable. I Am sounds like a track that could easily be pulled off of Dead Heart, In a Dead World. It has almost a ballad-like feel to it while maintaining the darkness both bands have been known for. One Final Day is also a very similar track, with its soothing acoustic passages.

The World is Wired happens to be my favorite track on the album. It has everything that made me fall in love with Nevermore, an extremely memorable guitar groove, droning vocals, and an very intense and extended guitar solo. It doesn't exactly sound like classic Sanctuary, but I can understand how the band's evolution would have lead them to this kind of material.

All in all The Year the Sun Died offers up a rather nice and heavy album. My only complaint, which is that of most people I've read, is that it sounds way more like a new Nevermore album than Refuge Denied era Sanctuary. I listened expecting to hear the higher register of Warrel Dane's voice and it was almost completely ignored. Still this is a very strong effort from a band who hasn't released an album in nearly 25 years.

It's basically no secret that Warrel Dane is one of my favorite lyricists on the planet, not to mention one of my most admired vocalists in all of metal and beyond. That lovely little fanboy drainage aside, I love Sanctuary about as much as I do Nevermore, but I do admit to more than a little trepidation when I heard of Sanctuary reforming. Sure, nostalgia grabs me like it does any aging metal fanatic, but I immediately harkened back to the early days of Sanctuary and that shrieking high-pitched scream Dane was noted for then. Many was the time I'd see Nevermore live and yell out for "Die for My Sins," only to have a laughing Warrel retort, "Did you bring any fuckin' helium?" Oh hell, it was worth a shot....

Finally (!) the latest Sanctuary album is upon us (the first in 23-years) titled The Year the Sun Died, which is aptly titled if you're at all familiar with Dane's wildly introspective lyrical prowess. After taking it in for a full once-through, my first initial reaction was, "Well, it's...Nevermore, really." There are absolute moments of complete Nevermore-esque patterns, and anyone that says different simply isn't familiar with either band and the natural progression from 1991's Into the Mirror Black into 1995's debut, Nevermore. The first Sanctuary release in '88, Refuge Denied, was a high-pitched, speed-laced entry into the Seattle quintet's tempestuously brilliant power metal that suffered only from a muddy Dave Mustaine mixing effort. When Mirror hit a couple of years later, I definitely heard the shifting in overall tone that would eventually morph into Nevermore's self-titled debut when Sanctuary split amidst rumors of half of the camp wanting to 'go grunge.' While Nevermore possesses one of the single greatest catalogs I've ever had the privilege of hearing, that period is over.

Or is it?

Herein lies my quandary: I absolutely love this album. It's everything that I am attracted to when it comes to personal viewpoints on the unavoidable descent of mankind, be it by technological advancements or old-fashioned arrogance and idiocy. Warrel Dane is an unequaled master when it comes to this type of writing. All of this said, I'm puzzled as to why Warrel and bassist Jim Sheppard felt the need to reunite Sanctuary to produce an album that sounds so much like Nevermore it's practically a cover band, right down to founding guitarist Lenny Rutledge's blatant, if spot-on Jeff Loomis riff prowess. Don't misunderstand me, Rutledge has his own definitive sound (no one could ever fully replicate Loomis' signature sound and style), including some really really good solos, but the indelible tonal quality throughout the album simply screams Nevermore. So hopefully you see my point here - I really enjoy this music, but I'm more or less confused as to which team to root for I suppose.

So let me get on with the album itself. The single, "Arise and Purify," is a strong opener, utterly pregnant with that familiar Dane tone that bellows and commands subservience. As is the nearly-perfect standard with Nevermore (I choose to forget that horrid Kelly Gray butcher job), the production is sharp and crisp to the point of forcing the foundation to shake underfoot. There's a sentimental fluidty to the sound that always impresses me; I hate to keep saying this, but if you like Nevermore's sound, this album will not negatively sway you. Now and again, a track will come and dismiss the aforementioned tone and throw a musical wrench into the fray, evident in the track "Question Existence Fading." I also really like "I Am Low" with its incredibly somber Metal Church intro and verse riff that calls upon "Watch the Children Play." This is the one track that seems to stray from the formula, completely revisiting the Into the Mirror Black aura that is further complimented by a quick and resonating guitar solo. The dual attack of Rutledge and Brad Hull (formerly of fellow Seattle natives Forced Entry) here is an all but forgotten art form these days, but it's nestled nicely in the evenness of the track.

I will say that by the time "Frozen" literally pummels out of the stereo I'm smiling and nodding my head to that oh-so reminiscent gallop I've been entranced by for the last twenty-five years with these guys. The vocal melody is both forceful and resounding, which is typical for Warrel Dane when he needs to get across the point with all of the gentility of a speed-laden Venom fan in the R&B section of your local record shop. These are also some of my favorite lyrics on the record; I'm always ready for a truly encompassing experience when I engage some of Warrel's lyrical offerings. It can be exhausting and enlightening, but you could definitely be a different person if you truly understand what he says and why he says it. In short, very few can do what this man is capable of doing, and being backed by incredible musicians throughout his career has only enhanced the experience(s). As he's great for doing, Dane uses vocal pattern magic to dictate the flow of any song, which is wonderfully presented in "The World is Wired." As his vocal melodies shift and augment rather indiscriminately, the music then tends to follow with enchanting peaks and dips, creating a musical see-saw effect that keeps the music from ever lulling into boredom or bleak simplicity. While many people may long for the King Diamond-like screams from the first album (where not even a trace is found herein), I personally feel Dane's best work is in those haunting lows and double-tracked harmonies that make him one of the most underrated singers out there. For the special edition of the CD, the band keeps up with a long-standing tradition of covering some classic tracks by amazing bands from the 60's. The cover of the Doors' "Waiting for the Sun" makes me wonder just what would have transpired had Jim Morrison and Warrel Dane been locked in a studio together for a few hours. Provided they both emerged alive and relatively sane, it might well have been majestic poetry crossing borders and genres with indelible ease.

As for the band, this is a Sanctuary that is new and, some might argue, vastly improved with the times. The age of the "upbeat" thrashy power metal seems to be over, or at the very least hidden in the shadowy corners of the genre where only local clubs and haphazard Mp3's might find occasional rays of light. The dark, brooding, almost grooving style adopted here is a somewhat fresh slant on an older band. Gone is original guitarist Sean Blosl, but the main frame of the band still finds itself viable and relevant. In the grand chasm of nostalgic reunions that seem endless today, Sanctuary might be one of the more positive additions to that ever-growing list, provided you know just what to expect.

The Year the Sun Died may well end up on my Top Ten list at year's end, and rightfully so. There is a resilience and staying factor that doesn't allow for casual engagement. At the end of the day (and about the fifth listen) I find more than a few nods to something not-so-'Nevermoreish', and that's always a plus. I'm glad that the guys got past their differences and found the magic once again, and quite magical this record is all over if you're so inclined to take on the poetics within.

(Originally written for www.metalpsalter.com)