Sanctuary - Official Website


The Year The Sun Died

United States Country of Origin: United States



Review by Felix on December 5, 2022.

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?

Rating: 7.7 out of 10

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Review by Chris Pratl on March 4, 2018.

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)

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