Review by Paul Monkhouse for MPM
If you’re going to have a fiftieth birthday, why not make it the biggest celebration possible and invite several thousand of your nearest and dearest to join the party.
Iron Maiden don’t do things by half and with the added attractions of the Infinite Dreams museum and the multi-faceted Maidenville, all that was missing is a giant cake. Wandering around the site, the sight and sound of so many fans is a heartwarming one as multiple generations and accents mix, all brought together by the mighty London outfit. From those who caught the nascent shows at the Cart And Horses through to the newest converts discovering a world of heavy metal overlooked by one of the most iconic mascots in music history, this is a fantasy come true. The faithful have come to worship at the altar of Maiden and there’s no finer place than the hallowed grounds of Knebworth.
Today’s a special one for The Almighty too. Not only do they get to open Saturday’s Eddfest but it’s also Ricky Warwick’s 60th birthday. One of the most rock ‘n’ roll figures on the scene, few people embody the spirit of the music more than the frontman.
Still, it must agree with him as he looks a good two decades or so younger that his true age and the band are truly on fire from the moment they rip into opener ‘Power’. Three years after their acclaimed decision to reunite and a string of euphoric shows under their belts proved that the quartet are still as hard hitting today as they ever have been.
Like Airbourne following them, this is a real blood and sweat band who pour every ounce of energy into all they do and stomping, visceral bangers like ‘Jonestown Mind’ and ‘Wrench’ are like a punch in the face.
A triumphant ‘Free and Easy’ saw a grinning Warwick, Tantrum, Stump Munroe and Floyd London seal a moment that will go down in their history and the birthday boy couldn’t have had a better present than absolutely owning the legendary stage with his brothers in arms.
It’s not an understatement to say that Airbourne don’t play ballads, the Warrnambool boys never letting their foot off the gas for the whole of their set. Put them on any stage and any audience and it’s like the cartoon Tasmanian Devil let loose, the dirtiest boogie since AC/DC first emerged their stock in trade.
Truth be told, they make Angus and Co seem somewhat demure in contrast and whilst they certainly are influenced by the superstars, there’s more than a little of their old friends Motörhead in their intensity.
You always know what you’re going to get with the outfit and latest single ‘GUTSY’ stands shoulder to shoulder with meat and potato monsters like ‘Too Much, Too Young, Too Fast’ and ‘Breakin’ Out Of Hell’.
Throwing in a bit of ‘Paranoid’ in tribute to the Prince of Darkness, it was a sweat drenched and shirtless Joel O’Keefe screaming out the lyrics to ‘Runnin’ Wild’ that summed up the four-man wrecking crew best and they’ve yet to be displaced as one of the most kinetic bands on the planet.
Following these two displays of raw intensity, The Hu are a brilliant wildcard. Fresh from an acoustic set at the Mongolian Embassy two days previously, there’s something so otherworldly and intoxicating about the eight-piece that it’s impossible not to get drawn into their world.
Plenty of acts have blended folk and metal before but what The Hu bring is something that rumbles with a resonance that speaks of the very ancient rocks of their homeland and centuries of history. There’s an authenticity here that gives extra weigh to all they do and when the throat singing, percussion and heft of the guitar kicks in to numbers like ‘Black Thunder’ and ‘Shoog Shoog’ it’s spinetingling.
It may be missing guest Lzzy Hale but ‘Wolf Totem’ still demands attention and it’s a special moment when the band profess their love for both Iron Maiden, the UK and the crowd watching, the sincerity and wonder at being here incredibly touching.
A thrilling ‘This Is Mongol’ closes the set with a flourish and deep groove that sounds like a battle cry, the declaration leaving no shadow of doubt that these warriors are one of the most fascinating and awe-inspiring cross-cultural voices in metal. Magnificent.
“It’s been twenty-three years since we played here with Robbie Williams” states Justin Hawkins during The Darkness’s set. In that time the band flew, fell apart and then came back, brighter and hungrier than ever, the addition of Rufus Taylor to the band a key factor in their continued dominance.
Alongside this, Hawkins, brother Dan and bass player Frankie Poullain have always been one of the best live bands on the planet and armed with a library full of killer songs, every show is a spectacle. Some may call it confidence, whilst others may say arrogance, the choice to open the set with ‘Rock and Roll Party Cowboy’ from the recent ‘Dreams On Toast’ album is a gambit that only they could get away with plentiful more familiar songs obvious choices.
Sheer will and bravado carry them over the line and its gloriously glam hook is a great way to grab attention before the instantly recognisable riff of ‘Growing On Me’ gets people punching the air.
Given the event, the choice of leaning heavily into their classic debut is a good move, half the set taken from ‘Permission To Land’ and the frantic energy of ‘Get Your Hands Off My Woman’ and the imperial ‘Love Is Only A Feeling’ are guaranteed crowd pleasers.
Newer songs ‘Walking Through Fire’ and ‘Japanese Prisoner Of Love’ go down well too but it’s ‘I Believe In A Thing Called Love’ that remains so utterly irresistible that a sea of clapping hands stretches from front to back of the crowd. Throwing in a snippet of ‘Christmas Time (Don’t Let The Bells End)’ with the promise of hearing it all during their December arena shows and a quick blast of Zeppelin’s ‘Immigrant Song’ as a nod to the location, the closing salvo of ‘Love On The Rocks With No Ice’ sealed another thrilling rollercoaster ride from Lowestoft’s finest and there’s no doubt that they’re made for days just like this.
The grandeur of Knebworth House and lands are a long way from the basement of a Stratford pub but no-one has worked harder than Steve Harris and Co to get here. From those visceral days where Eddie the Ed was just that, fake blood dripping down its face through to the cutting edge screens and animated graphics that have accompanied this ‘Run For Your Lives’ tour, the outfit have always put on a spectacle.
The rush of the punk-edged debut onwards to the ambitious prog influenced epics and beyond, few bands have got a set of material to call on and this current tour tips its hat to those early Soundhouse days up to ‘Fear Of The Dark’, every song in the set displaying Maiden in peak form.
For those who caught the band at their Olympic Stadium show last year, the set remains pretty much unchanged but is none the less thrilling for that as opener ‘Murders In The Rue Morgue’ tears out of the speakers in a rush of fire and fury.
Despite the occasion, there’s no whiff of Maiden pulling out any extra stops as each and every show is played with a commitment to both the fans and their proud legacy, no-one short changed. The sight of Steve Harris at the front of the stage, his bass held out like a machine gun as he sings along with such passion, one of rock’s most enduring images and it’s an inspiring sight.
With Janick Gers throwing himself and his guitar around, Adrian Smith and Dave Murray cooly pealing out the riffs and Simon Dawson fully ensconced behind the drum kit, Bruce Dickinson was his usual kinetic self, rushing around the huge space as he put every ounce of energy into his performance. This is a band that defy time.
The adrenaline rush of ‘Phantom Of The Opera’ and drama of ‘The Number Of The Beast’ crackle with electricity and it’s impossible not to smile at the sheer thrill of those first loves, ‘Run To The Hills’ conjuring memories of the band tearing into it live in front of the nation one Thursday night on ‘Top of the Pops’.
The welcome return of ‘Infinite Dreams’ after so many years in the wilderness starts a roll of lengthy tracks that really see them display the involved storytelling that saw them stretch from the early, punchy days and ‘Powerslave’, ‘Rime Of The Ancient Mariner’ and ‘Seventh Son Of A Seventh Son’ grip like a vice. All the while Eddie stalks the stage in various guises, from the towering physical presence threatening to behead Gers with an axe through to the practically 3D image of his giant head malevolently glaring at the band from the huge video screen.
The relentless charge of an apocalyptic ‘Two Minutes To Minute’ and the explosive gallop of ‘The Trooper’ provide other highs and as the set finishes with the titular ‘Iron Maiden’ fifty thousand people roared for more. A perfect encore trio in the shape of ‘Aces High’, ‘Fear Of The Dark’ and ‘Wasted Years’ sealed the deal and all that was left was for the band to take their well-earned bows, safe in the knowledge that this was a day that no-one would ever forget.
With a victory later by the England team, it would be hard to imagine a happier man than Steve Harris in the whole of the country and the celebrations doubtless carried on to the early hours of Sunday morning. Eddfest was a weekend where everyone won and Iron Maiden yet again proved why they’re one of the biggest and best bands on the planet. No-one comes close
Photography by Pete Key for MPM
