Sacrifice

After the rip-roaring success of Call to Arms, I sensed a holding pattern in the works. I predicted the next album would be even burlier 80's recidivism, replete with a grayscale album cover of Cecil Rhodes and his massive butt-chin that can be seen from orbit. But Saxon, a band so routinely lambasted for recording the same album over and over, had other plans. Famously described as "Less tricks, more power" by Biff Byford, Sacrifice turned out to be one of Saxon's most aggressive, thuggish albums. Just like Motörhead's Sacrifice.

With a bold, incursive impetus and an effervescent production I'll discuss at greater length soon, Sacrifice is a dramatic reversal from the fun-loving retro romp that was Call to Arms. Frankly, it's a reversal from just about everything up to this point. Apart from the errant Metalhead vibe I get from the beefy, downtuned riffs that gurgle throughout 'Wheels of Terror' and 'Made in Belfast', Saxon's twentieth album is still managing to explore new pastures. I don't know what's in that Yorkshire tea they're drinking, but maybe they ought to share some with every other NWOBHM band putting out a dreary comeback album just lately.

In spite of the less tricks, more power approach, the songwriting of Sacrifice possesses a charming amount of depth and variety. I know I praised Call to Arms for its convergent, focused approach to songwriting, but deep-down I was missing the time when Saxon hammed it up and wrote songs about gargoyles coming to life. Here we see a very multi-cultural Saxon explore Asiatic and Mesoamerican themes in 'Guardians of the Tomb' and the title track, respectively. What begins as a contemplative plucking of a Chinese zither, that I immediately compare to Chun-Li's theme from Street Fighter II because I'm so culturally sophisticated, quickly ramps up into a memorable series of crushing chords and a resonant chorus emphasizing the eeriness of the Terracotta Army.

Adding to the stable of memorable tracks is 'Warriors of the Road' and the so-Accept-it-hurts 'Stand Up and Fight'. The latter is often panned and accused of being filler, but I find myself routinely going back to its earworm melody and the wonderfully accented guitar passages. It's worth noting that it's the most Call to Arms this album ever gets; notice how even its track title is an overt callback to the Saxon classic 'Stand Up (And be Counted)'. 'Warriors of the Road' is in the same vein; an appropriately breakneck ode to formula one racing with Exciter-esque riffs and a vocal delivery more versatile than previous outings like 'Afterburner'. And believe it or not, this album also possess the odd subtlety or two. 'Made In Belfast' features a bridge where Quinn's guitar and Glocker's snares sync up with the sound of shipbuilders pounding rivets into a ship's hull. It's the little things, you know?

You've been waiting very patiently for my production comment, so here goes. For the first time since 1997, this album is not produced by Charlie Bauerfiend, but rather Andy Sneap. And let's get this out in the open, I think Sneap is a talented producer capable of finding and reviving every angstrom of subtlety in the mix. Just feast your ears on that smooth, buttery bass vibrating through the bluesy 'Standing in a Queue' if you want proof. However, this extremely fastidious approach is bound to be a turn-off for some Saxon purists, as its garden-variety cleanliness is at odds with the band's inherent uncleanliness.

Aside from that and the forgettable mega-fluff 'Night of the Wolf', Sacrifice continues Saxon's winning streak without much of a fuss. For those keeping score at home, that's eight consecutive albums I've deemed acceptable, phenomenal, and anything in between. In fact, without that unfortunate definition of insanity that plagued much of their 80's output, Saxon would possess one of the most consistent, densely populated heavy metal discographies outside of Motörhead.