Once upon a time, this New England outfit dropped something of a lost classic in 1987‘s A Crystal Vision, a record that succeeds as much through youthful exuberance as through the band’s nascent talent. That album was a gleeful mash-up of NWOBHM, speed, proto-thrash, Mercyful Fate-ish darkness and early Queensryche dramatics that showed great promise and could’ve laid the groundwork for a solid career. But then Sacred Oath took two decades off.
The Oath returned in the mid-2000s, rerecording and rereleasing their prior glory and then moving forward with a mostly new line-up and a modernized take on their sound, now expanding upon their Bay Area tendencies. I picked up on these Connecticutians with their last release, the self-titled effort from two years ago. While that record didn’t blow me away, it, too, showed promise, at least enough for me to further investigate Sacred Oath and, from there, A Crystal Vision. Better than its predecessor, World On Fire rights some wrongs, although it remains a far cry from the heights of its eldest brother.
Stylistically, the band is still rooted in the same American power metal sound—theirs is a ballsier take on the anthemic European school, faster and edgier, still with the moody darkness and now crossed even more with Heathen-esque thrash. Vocalist Rob Thorne is the Oath’s driving force and most noticeable trait—his soaring voice reminds in parts of Geoff Tate or James Rivera, and in his thrashier moments, of David (Godfrey) White. His falsetto is not overused, and time and experience have honed it to a sharper point than Vision’s searing wail.
Where the self-titled release stumbled was in an inconsistency of songwriting and overstaying its welcome, and that same fate nearly befalls World On Fire. Both Sacred Oath and World open with two of their thrashiest numbers and two of their least compelling. While “Sweet Agony” sports a nice chorus, the chugging verses and near nu-metal stutter makes it lesser than what follows it (save the equally dull “Meet Your Maker”), and the album only truly begins to hold my interest with third track, the Arabic-tinged mid-tempo trad-metal of “The King Must Die.” Ultimately, as the band moves into a more thrash-tinged attack, they lose the moody melodic majesty that colored their best work. Were the first two tracks excised, World On Fire would likely fare better.
Thematically, this World is loosely based upon Frank Herbert’s Dune series, although only a few tunes openly link to that book’s mythos. Since Herbert’s epic tale of war in the desert for control of the singular substance that fuels the imperial fleets is timely, to say the least, much of World On Fire tells two tales, addressing topics as real as they are fiction. And occasionally, when the storyline veers indisputably into Arrakeen environs, the literary inspirations start to outweigh the execution. Like Maiden’s “To Tame A Land” before it, the epic “Sandrider” proves that Herbert’s Galactic Empire drama lends itself to some seriously clunky lyrics. (I mean, it’s hard for anyone to sing “Bene Gesserit” and “Kwisatz Haderach” and not sound sillier’n hell.) Nevertheless, when Sacred Oath properly balances their speed, thrash and power leanings, the results can be (ahem) powerful and damn enjoyable, as most of World On Fire capably displays. (The title track, the album’s final song, is easily among its best and most competent examples of the proper balance.)
In the long run, Sacred Oath is a solid but still second-tier band, with a good power metal record that doesn’t achieve greatness, They’re still chasing the spark that made their first vision a fun one, and World On Fire is the closest they’ve come in twenty-three years, but it’s still not a smashing success. Dedicated Oathbangers (their term, not mine) will enjoy it, but all others will likely find it decent but not essential.
