Iron Maiden - Sheffield Arena 6th December 2003 & Birmingham NEC 16th December 2003
Setlist: Wildest Dreams / Wrathchild / Can I Play With Madness / The Trooper / Dance Of Death / Rainmaker / Brave New World / Paschendale / Lord Of The Flies / No More Lies / Hallowed Be Thy Name / Fear of the Dark / Iron Maiden // Journeyman / Number of the Beast / Run to the Hills
Iron Maiden’s Dance of Death tour finally hit the UK in early December. I went along to the Sheffield and Birmingham shows; one at the beginning of the tour, the other the last night. The shows featured identical setlists and, although Birmingham was slightly better than Sheffield, there was little difference between the two. So, rather than write two separate reviews and repeat myself ad nauseum, the following is a hybrid. So, let’s get down to brass tacks. Funeral for a Friend were dire at both shows. Sorry, that’s just how it was.
Iron Maiden’s Dance of Death tour finally hit the UK in early December. I went along to the Sheffield and Birmingham shows; one at the beginning of the tour, the other the last night. The shows featured identical setlists and, although Birmingham was slightly better than Sheffield, there was little difference between the two. So, rather than write two separate reviews and repeat myself ad nauseum, the following is a hybrid. So, let’s get down to brass tacks. Funeral for a Friend were dire at both shows. Sorry, that’s just how it was.
I’m sure they are a nice bunch of lads and musically they showed some proficiency, but vocally they were a nightmare. I couldn’t understand one word the singer grunted at either performance. Whilst I appreciate that a handful of people enjoyed the support band, the majority did not and there were numerous calls for them to leave, many of them suggesting virtually impossible feats of contortion. The reason is simple: this was the wrong band for the audience. The biggest cheer they got at both venues was when their backdrop was taken down as the roadies readied the stage for the headliners. I’m not sure as to the wisdom of their selection for the tour. Could anyone in the Irons organisation have seriously thought that Maiden fans were gong to enjoy Funeral for a Friend? If so, then they really don’t know their audience - and I don’t believe that to be the case. More likely is that FfaF’s record company paid a large lump of cash and bought the band onto the tour. Surely, it would have shown more respect for the fans, who had stumped up thirty quid a ticket, to put on a support band that the majority would have enjoyed, rather than a band that almost everyone hated? Maybe it’s just me, but to be honest I just can’t get past this and neither can I help but feel that, for the price of admission, we deserved a more suitable warm-up act.
OK. What about Iron Maiden? This was the seventh time I’ve seen them; three times up to the Iron Maiden tour and four times since the Brave New World tour. There was a twenty-year gap in the middle there, when I lost my way, but I’ve seen the light and I’m back on the straight and narrow. I’ve come to realise that Iron Maiden is an extraordinary beast and there are several very good reasons why. The band is at the top of their game right now and, quite frankly, I don’t see anyone capable of taking away their crown. In my opinion, Iron Maiden is the best live rock band in the world.
OK. What about Iron Maiden? This was the seventh time I’ve seen them; three times up to the Iron Maiden tour and four times since the Brave New World tour. There was a twenty-year gap in the middle there, when I lost my way, but I’ve seen the light and I’m back on the straight and narrow. I’ve come to realise that Iron Maiden is an extraordinary beast and there are several very good reasons why. The band is at the top of their game right now and, quite frankly, I don’t see anyone capable of taking away their crown. In my opinion, Iron Maiden is the best live rock band in the world.
Let me explain.
I was never really a fan of Bruce Dickenson. I’d seen him back in the Samson days and, quite frankly, I wasn’t that impressed. For two decades, I let my juvenile prejudices dictate my thinking and it was only after my daughter nagged me to take her to one of the Brixton shows, that I truly came to appreciate Bruce’s abilities. His voice may not be the best I’ve ever heard, but what you get on the CD, you get on the stage; there are no fancy bits of electronic trickery going on, it’s all 100% Bruce. That he can sing this material live to start with is damned impressive, some of it is bloody complicated, but the range and power in his voice is truly astounding at times, and he does all of this whilst running around the stage for the entire two hour show. He never looks tired, or out of breath; he is a performer of the old school and in my book that’s what it’s about. It isn’t about perfection; it is about feeling.
Then there are the three amigos, Messrs Murray, Smith and Gers. Now, stage right is Mr Janick Gers. Him I remember from White Spirit and Gillan days - I even met him back on the Double Trouble tour in 18somethingorother - I always loved his distinctive sound and flamboyant style. Stage left are Dave Murray and Adrian Smith, two of the most underrated guitarists on the planet. They aren’t flash, they don’t play seven-stringed, multicoloured instruments, and they don’t throw tantrums and stomp off in a mad ig on a regular basis. What they do is play guitar, and very well indeed at that. There’s no fuss, no grief, just a riff here, a solo there, it looks so easy. They are the musical equivalent of Alain Prost. The Frenchman was such a smooth driver that he always looked like he was going slowly, when in fact he was so far ahead that, often, even Ayrton Senna couldn’t catch him. In the same way, the three guitarists in Maiden are so compatible and so good together that you tend to overlook just what it is that they’re doing and that you have three of the very best players on the stage, at the same time.
I was never really a fan of Bruce Dickenson. I’d seen him back in the Samson days and, quite frankly, I wasn’t that impressed. For two decades, I let my juvenile prejudices dictate my thinking and it was only after my daughter nagged me to take her to one of the Brixton shows, that I truly came to appreciate Bruce’s abilities. His voice may not be the best I’ve ever heard, but what you get on the CD, you get on the stage; there are no fancy bits of electronic trickery going on, it’s all 100% Bruce. That he can sing this material live to start with is damned impressive, some of it is bloody complicated, but the range and power in his voice is truly astounding at times, and he does all of this whilst running around the stage for the entire two hour show. He never looks tired, or out of breath; he is a performer of the old school and in my book that’s what it’s about. It isn’t about perfection; it is about feeling.
Then there are the three amigos, Messrs Murray, Smith and Gers. Now, stage right is Mr Janick Gers. Him I remember from White Spirit and Gillan days - I even met him back on the Double Trouble tour in 18somethingorother - I always loved his distinctive sound and flamboyant style. Stage left are Dave Murray and Adrian Smith, two of the most underrated guitarists on the planet. They aren’t flash, they don’t play seven-stringed, multicoloured instruments, and they don’t throw tantrums and stomp off in a mad ig on a regular basis. What they do is play guitar, and very well indeed at that. There’s no fuss, no grief, just a riff here, a solo there, it looks so easy. They are the musical equivalent of Alain Prost. The Frenchman was such a smooth driver that he always looked like he was going slowly, when in fact he was so far ahead that, often, even Ayrton Senna couldn’t catch him. In the same way, the three guitarists in Maiden are so compatible and so good together that you tend to overlook just what it is that they’re doing and that you have three of the very best players on the stage, at the same time.
Then, of course, there’s the man at the back. Drummers are known to be slightly unhinged and Nicko McBrain does nothing to dispel this train of thought. Throughout this tour he has been constantly vomiting all over everywhere, but has he been a no-show for any performance? No, he has been there every night, solidly beating the hell out of his impressive drum kit for two hours. I don’t think he’s the best drummer in the world, but I can’t think of anyone I’d rather see at the back of the stage, keeping everything tighter than a duck’s armpit.
At Birmingham, as he threw out sticks into the crowd, I saw one coming towards me, I reached up and it went skimming over my outstretched fingertips. A scuffle behind me showed how close I had come to acquiring a trophy and, as I looked on enviously, I saw what they didn’t; the drumstick had fallen to the floor and was lying, unnoticed, at their feet. With an agility that belies my husky stature, I swiftly bent down and secured my prize, much to the annoyance of those still battling for glory. I thought that my daughter was going to have a conniption as I handed her the treasure. Well, it goes with the Dave Murray wristband she fought so hard for at Brixton.
At Birmingham, as he threw out sticks into the crowd, I saw one coming towards me, I reached up and it went skimming over my outstretched fingertips. A scuffle behind me showed how close I had come to acquiring a trophy and, as I looked on enviously, I saw what they didn’t; the drumstick had fallen to the floor and was lying, unnoticed, at their feet. With an agility that belies my husky stature, I swiftly bent down and secured my prize, much to the annoyance of those still battling for glory. I thought that my daughter was going to have a conniption as I handed her the treasure. Well, it goes with the Dave Murray wristband she fought so hard for at Brixton.
Last, but by no means least, the man who is the essence of Iron Maiden, Steve Harris. From the first moment I heard Sanctuary, more years ago than I care to remember, I loved the sound of his frantic bass lines. But, live, I had never been close enough before to actually see his face, something that I’ve just discovered is so important to understanding why Iron Maiden are so good. For the entire performance the intensity and passion is writ large across his visage and watching him is an experience in itself. He sings every word of every song as he gazes into the audience, loving it as much as anyone who has paid to come in. You cannot help but admire his enthusiasm for something, which, by this stage in his career, he must be doing for the love of it, not for the money.
And so, we come to the songs and the performance. I could take issue with the fact that they’ve dropped certain songs, but that would be churlish. What they did play was faultless at worst, truly awesome at best.
Wildest Dreams kicks off the set with a song that you can immediately sing along to and gets the show off to a fine start. Three old favourites, Wrathchild, Can I Play with Madness? and The Trooper keep the emotions running high before the first of the new material makes an appearance.
And so, we come to the songs and the performance. I could take issue with the fact that they’ve dropped certain songs, but that would be churlish. What they did play was faultless at worst, truly awesome at best.
Wildest Dreams kicks off the set with a song that you can immediately sing along to and gets the show off to a fine start. Three old favourites, Wrathchild, Can I Play with Madness? and The Trooper keep the emotions running high before the first of the new material makes an appearance.
The next four songs continue to build the show gradually to a peak that you wonder whether they can reach again. Dance of Death works well live and Bruce, dressed in his mask and bizarre cape, stalks the stage menacingly, beautifully conveying the feel of the song, whirling around and around like a dervish as it builds to a climax. Rainmaker is a rocker and moves along at one hell of a pace before everything slows down for Brave New World. But, it is Paschendaele that is truly the highlight of the show. You can cut the atmosphere with a broadsword as the barrage of light and sound simulates the WWI battlefield during this visually stunning tour de force. Of all the epics, this is one of the very best and so beautifully performed that it almost wears you to a frazzle.
Lord of the Flies and No More Lies can’t hope to maintain the tension generated by Paschendaele and, in a way, they don’t try to and, besides, I’m not sure any song could really follow this particular masterpiece. I’ve never been a fan of Blaze-era Maiden but Lord of the Flies isn’t bad at all and No More Lies will perhaps grow on me. But, I think The Clansman and Montsegur would have been better choices here; they are better songs and they would have maintained a higher level of excitement.
Lord of the Flies and No More Lies can’t hope to maintain the tension generated by Paschendaele and, in a way, they don’t try to and, besides, I’m not sure any song could really follow this particular masterpiece. I’ve never been a fan of Blaze-era Maiden but Lord of the Flies isn’t bad at all and No More Lies will perhaps grow on me. But, I think The Clansman and Montsegur would have been better choices here; they are better songs and they would have maintained a higher level of excitement.
The last three tracks, Hallowed Be Thy Name, Fear of the Dark and Iron Maiden are all top-drawer classics and they round out the main set nicely. ‘Reaper Eddie’ makes an appearance to the delight of the audience whilst Bruce requests that we scream for him, which we all willing do.
We know that they are coming back, but nothing can prepare you for what happens, even if you are already aware that the first encore is Journeyman. The sight of Iron Maiden unplugged is a truly weird (or is that wired?) spectacle; all three guitarists are seated, playing acoustic instruments and the lighting rig is lowered, giving the stage an unexpectedly intimate ambience. It is just not something that you ever expected to see, however, it does work. I’m not sure how, or why, it just gels and even becomes the main audience participation number of the night. Journeyman is a pleasantly surprising interlude in the madness and seeing it played live has made me appreciate a song that I’d more or less overlooked, until now. Furthermore, the extreme change of pace made the last two songs all the more intense. Number of the Beast needs no words to be said about it -it just is - whilst Run to the Hills did actually end the show at a peak almost as high as that attained during Paschendaele, with Bruce’s voice being as sharp as ever, even after two hours of belting it out.
We know that they are coming back, but nothing can prepare you for what happens, even if you are already aware that the first encore is Journeyman. The sight of Iron Maiden unplugged is a truly weird (or is that wired?) spectacle; all three guitarists are seated, playing acoustic instruments and the lighting rig is lowered, giving the stage an unexpectedly intimate ambience. It is just not something that you ever expected to see, however, it does work. I’m not sure how, or why, it just gels and even becomes the main audience participation number of the night. Journeyman is a pleasantly surprising interlude in the madness and seeing it played live has made me appreciate a song that I’d more or less overlooked, until now. Furthermore, the extreme change of pace made the last two songs all the more intense. Number of the Beast needs no words to be said about it -it just is - whilst Run to the Hills did actually end the show at a peak almost as high as that attained during Paschendaele, with Bruce’s voice being as sharp as ever, even after two hours of belting it out.
All in all, you can’t do anything but come away satisfied with what you have seen and heard and only the most petty would be disappointed by Iron Maiden’s performance.
The lighting rig (as I found out during FfaF’s set) contains some 500 separate lighting units, not including follow-me spots and so on, all of which are used to great effect. The sound could have been better; they could have played somewhere that wasn’t aircraft hangar-sized with absolutely no suitability for musical performances. I hate arenas with a passion and, after twenty-odd years of gig going, I accept the economics of playing these tram sheds, but having seen them at Brixton Academy, I can only hope that the next time I see them live, and there will be a next time, it is somewhere more conducive to hosting a rock concert.
Run to the Hills? Only when Funeral for a Friend hit the stage.
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
18 December 2003
The lighting rig (as I found out during FfaF’s set) contains some 500 separate lighting units, not including follow-me spots and so on, all of which are used to great effect. The sound could have been better; they could have played somewhere that wasn’t aircraft hangar-sized with absolutely no suitability for musical performances. I hate arenas with a passion and, after twenty-odd years of gig going, I accept the economics of playing these tram sheds, but having seen them at Brixton Academy, I can only hope that the next time I see them live, and there will be a next time, it is somewhere more conducive to hosting a rock concert.
Run to the Hills? Only when Funeral for a Friend hit the stage.
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
18 December 2003
About the photos...
All of these photos were taken at the NEC gig but it was the same show at both places anyway.
Ironically, I had a much better view of Janick at Sheffield, but didn't take my camera. At Birmingham, I was as far away from Janick as you could get, but I ended up getting some awesome pictures of the little fella. Dave, who was in front of me, I couldn't get a picture of because, everytime I pointed my camera at him, the mong in front of me put his/her/its hand up. Can someone tell me why some people spend the entire gig with their hands in the air? I mean I understand the clapping, punching the air and stuff, but there are some who just seem to have their arms aloft for no apparent reason.
Nevertheless, I got some pretty good shots, considering the difficulties of trying to take photographs at an arena. When you're not being hassled by Nazi's, you've got hands and arms waving around in front of you, there's beer flying everywhere and don't even get me started on the jumping around!
Ironically, I had a much better view of Janick at Sheffield, but didn't take my camera. At Birmingham, I was as far away from Janick as you could get, but I ended up getting some awesome pictures of the little fella. Dave, who was in front of me, I couldn't get a picture of because, everytime I pointed my camera at him, the mong in front of me put his/her/its hand up. Can someone tell me why some people spend the entire gig with their hands in the air? I mean I understand the clapping, punching the air and stuff, but there are some who just seem to have their arms aloft for no apparent reason.
Nevertheless, I got some pretty good shots, considering the difficulties of trying to take photographs at an arena. When you're not being hassled by Nazi's, you've got hands and arms waving around in front of you, there's beer flying everywhere and don't even get me started on the jumping around!
A Security issue...
I’ve got a gripe. Why is it that the ‘security staff’ at arenas are so tyrannical?
At the NEC, people were being frisked, for heaven’s sake. Why? Ooh, in case I’ve got a camera and take a few pictures? So, this bloke asks me if I have any camera equipment. “No, certainly not,” I replied - and he took my word for it. It must be my honest face. Fool! What did he expect? Own up to the fact that I’ve got a camera, then be faced with the choice of having it confiscated, or take it back the twenty-six miles to the car park? Na-ah! Marky don’t play dat. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my pictures, Adolf.
Now, as far as I am aware, the bands themselves, do not object to fans taking pictures of them. If any band objects, and says so, I will stop. Simple as that. Only once have I ever been asked to refrain from taking pictures by a band (The Dead Kennedy’s at a gig in the USA) and I complied immediately. If any band that I have ever taken pictures of objects after the fact, I will remove them from my website forthwith. None have to date, although a few bands have requested copies for their own websites. Perhaps there is an angle that has passed me by. If anyone reading this can explain it to me, drop me an email. Furthermore, if anyone from the Iron Maiden camp has a problem with my photographs, email me and explain why.
So, why do these venues feel the need to police the audience and behave like jack-booted bully-boys? Why do these little NECazi’s feel the need to enforce some arcane rule that either doesn’t exist, or nobody seems to care about, except them? They goose-step around telling you can’t take pictures, you can’t smoke there, they take away your bottle tops, or at Birmingham, your vicious weapon plastic bottle, and generally scowl at everyone all night long. (And, get this, after the show, you can’t buy a Coke, and the vending machines will not dispense Coca Cola. Why? Are they figuring on people going on some insane caffeine-induced rampage around the South Car Park? Mind you, you can buy as much Fanta as you can afford and get all hyper on E-numbers and at £1.40 a bottle that isn’t going to be much!)
This kind of behaviour from ‘Security Staff’ is totally unnecessary and completely unacceptable. They’re there to help people in distress, stop thugs causing trouble, not to shove people around just because they take a photo of a band they’ve paid good money to see. I’m waiting for the day when some Junta tries to take my camera off me; they will need more than a yellow t-shirt and a Maglite to achieve it. Whilst the NEC is bad, Manchester is by far the worst. I refuse to go to the ENA ever again because they are such a miserable bunch of Fascists.
NB. In fairness to Sheffield, the staff there were extremely good people and most reasonable. They did not resemble an oppressive military regime, in any shape or form.
Many thanks to the brave souls who dragged me and firstborn over the barrier and stopped us from getting crushed by the mammoth-sized bitch behind us.
Hey, lardass, if you're reading this, cut down on the lager and kebabs, before you kill someone! Or, at least, learn to control that huge bulk that you call a body.
I’ve got a gripe. Why is it that the ‘security staff’ at arenas are so tyrannical?
At the NEC, people were being frisked, for heaven’s sake. Why? Ooh, in case I’ve got a camera and take a few pictures? So, this bloke asks me if I have any camera equipment. “No, certainly not,” I replied - and he took my word for it. It must be my honest face. Fool! What did he expect? Own up to the fact that I’ve got a camera, then be faced with the choice of having it confiscated, or take it back the twenty-six miles to the car park? Na-ah! Marky don’t play dat. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my pictures, Adolf.
Now, as far as I am aware, the bands themselves, do not object to fans taking pictures of them. If any band objects, and says so, I will stop. Simple as that. Only once have I ever been asked to refrain from taking pictures by a band (The Dead Kennedy’s at a gig in the USA) and I complied immediately. If any band that I have ever taken pictures of objects after the fact, I will remove them from my website forthwith. None have to date, although a few bands have requested copies for their own websites. Perhaps there is an angle that has passed me by. If anyone reading this can explain it to me, drop me an email. Furthermore, if anyone from the Iron Maiden camp has a problem with my photographs, email me and explain why.
So, why do these venues feel the need to police the audience and behave like jack-booted bully-boys? Why do these little NECazi’s feel the need to enforce some arcane rule that either doesn’t exist, or nobody seems to care about, except them? They goose-step around telling you can’t take pictures, you can’t smoke there, they take away your bottle tops, or at Birmingham, your vicious weapon plastic bottle, and generally scowl at everyone all night long. (And, get this, after the show, you can’t buy a Coke, and the vending machines will not dispense Coca Cola. Why? Are they figuring on people going on some insane caffeine-induced rampage around the South Car Park? Mind you, you can buy as much Fanta as you can afford and get all hyper on E-numbers and at £1.40 a bottle that isn’t going to be much!)
This kind of behaviour from ‘Security Staff’ is totally unnecessary and completely unacceptable. They’re there to help people in distress, stop thugs causing trouble, not to shove people around just because they take a photo of a band they’ve paid good money to see. I’m waiting for the day when some Junta tries to take my camera off me; they will need more than a yellow t-shirt and a Maglite to achieve it. Whilst the NEC is bad, Manchester is by far the worst. I refuse to go to the ENA ever again because they are such a miserable bunch of Fascists.
NB. In fairness to Sheffield, the staff there were extremely good people and most reasonable. They did not resemble an oppressive military regime, in any shape or form.
Many thanks to the brave souls who dragged me and firstborn over the barrier and stopped us from getting crushed by the mammoth-sized bitch behind us.
Hey, lardass, if you're reading this, cut down on the lager and kebabs, before you kill someone! Or, at least, learn to control that huge bulk that you call a body.
