Iron Maiden live by John McMurtrieHallowed Be Thy Mane

Iron Maiden at Glen Helen June 19


by Skylaire Alfvegren



Of all the attractions of the British Isles, the city of Birmingham is No. 1 on my list. Yea, verily, we all want to ogle crop circles in Wiltshire, but the metal wrought life-size of Birmingham ÐÐ whose pounding steel mills make it more Pittsburgh than anything ÐÐ pretty much birthed heavy metal: Plant and Bonham, Black Sabbath, Judas Priest andÉthe mighty Maiden.

Iron MaidenÕs last SoCal visit ÐÐ to Irvine Meadows Amphitheatre ÐÐ was cut seemingly short by the cityÕs uppity midnight curfew, which prompted absolutely daft front man Bruce Dickenson to sniff, ÓWe wouldnÕt want to wake the fishes.Ó Thus, it was a comfort to trek to Glen Helen way out on the 15. (I refuse to refer to these venues by their corporate sponsor names; the venue was home to the Ô80s US Festival and the Metal Masters tour two years ago, which featured the last local appearance of one Ronnie James Dio with Heaven and Hell, who whupped the asses of the reformed Black Sabbath at Ozzfest hazy days ago, which also took place at Glen Helen.)

Iron Maiden is the kind of band that makes it unnecessary to seek out the hot new up-and-comers. Leave it to the pros. Apparently, I am not alone in this thought, as the glut of fans was so massive it prompted the band to push their set time back half an hour to accommodate everybody.

The guitar intro of UFOÕs ÒDoctor, DoctorÓ wailed away, the galloping bass line throwing off the well-behaved crowd. (Maiden has covered the song before, and played their first West Coast gigs, at the Orange Pavilion and the Long Beach Arena respectively, in 1981, with UFO.) Against a black backdrop speckled with red lights and a sci-fi, moon-baselike set, the band tore into ÒThe Wicker Man.Ó After an appropriately epic chorus, the refrain ÒYour time will come, your time will comeÓ spoke, as it always does, to my pineal gland. Considering the socio-economic standing of my Maiden brethren, all good people, this writer assures you, I imagine the song is an anthem to them as well.

DickinsonÕs mid-air splits and PSYCH WARD T-shirt highlighted ÒGhost of the Navigator,Ó which was followed by a smidge of his great wit. ÒThereÕs at least 25,000 people here tonightÉYouÕd think there was an Iron Maiden concert going on!Ó A cavalcade of career-spanning Eddie backdrops were paraded out as the band galloped through songs from 2006Õs A Matter of Life and Death, 2000Õs excellent Brave New World, and the title track (and others) from Final Frontier, which drops August 17. Then came DickinsonÕs familiar refrain: ÒScream for me, California!Ó (which apparently sounds cooler than ÒScream for me, San Bernardino!Ó), followed by ÒEl Dorado,Ó another as-yet-unreleased track that unaware Angelenos misheard as ÒAlvarado. (Overheard: ÒMaybe they get tacos at El Taurino, homes.Ó)

Guitarist Janick Yers ÐÐ Skwisgaar Skwigelf made flesh ÐÐ flitted about as his co-axmen blissed out and bassist Steve Harris, one foot planted on monitor, stood watch. Introducing ÒWarriors,Ó Dickinson admonished those who wished to be said warriors: ÒWhatever kind of warrior you are, you must fight and respect yourself, and you donÕt fucking give up ÐÐ EVER!Ó

Then came the Bruce we all know and love. ÒWith all the shit going on in the world,Ó he proposed a ÒOne Metal Government,Ó where ÒthereÕd be lots of drinking, lots of sexÉeverybody would be totally deafÉI know we do a lot of songs about death ÐÐ but nobody dies!Ó He next dedicated ÒBlood BrothersÓ to a mentor of his. ÒRonnie, IÕm not fucking worthy, even though IÕm three inches taller than youÉÓ  It was noted that something cosmic must be going down that even Maiden was Òdoing some spacy shit.Ó The tour shirt featured little green EBEs surrounding Eddie planting a flag on the moon ÐÐ a coded message that change is gonna come?

ÒNo More LiesÓ induced a massive, spontaneous Òooh-way-oh, ooh-way-ohÓ-along from the audience. Fans howled at ÒFear of the DarkÓ before being reminded that ÒIron Maiden canÕt be fought, Iron Maiden canÕt be soughtÓ as Eddie emerged stage right, as he always does ÐÐ stealing Dave MurrayÕs guitar. The Satanic double team of ÒNumber of the BeastÓ and ÒHallowed Be Thy NameÓ introduced what I thought was a new gimmick. As if on cue, Dickinson trolled off the last line of the song as a single white bird floated out from behind the stage, like a manifestation of the soul of the condemned man in the song. The bird didnÕt flee the bazillion-decibel din, but rather sailed slowly straight over what turned out to be 40,000 heads.

Maiden closed out the show with ÒRunning FreeÓ before Dickinson shot off backstage. He reappeared, jinnlike, explaining heÕd gone on a shopping spree at a Dallas army supply store, where he found Òan English policemanÕs hat!Ó Which, of course, was on his head. ÒIt was a sign from God. WeÕre on a mission from God.Ó

Although I wonder what the bird would have to say about that.


Click here to ind that excellent Iron Maiden cover image you heard so much about.

photo: John McMurtrie