Maiden's voyage remains intact: loud and fast metal
MANSFIELD - As one of the groups that spearheaded the new wave of British heavy metal, Iron Maiden never really tried to modernize its sound in the face of a changing musical landscape as its prominence dipped after the mid-1980s. That turned out to have worked to the band's distinct advantage, as its performance at the
With a massive multilevel Egyptian-theme stage set more elaborate than some big-ticket Broadway productions, there were no signs of the laziness that can creep in as time marches on. Six towering columns of flame singed the rafters during the thrillingly headlong "The Number of the Beast" as a giant animatronic devil nodded mechanically, while an even more giant mummy of Eddie (the band's memento mori of a mascot) shot sparks from his eyes at the end of "Iron Maiden."
The set gave singer Bruce Dickinson plenty of places to skulk around (he was like John Lydon gone in a slightly different direction), waving a ragged Union Jack over his bandmates during the speedy momentum of "The Trooper" and emoting like mad in his tattered robe in front of a backdrop of a rickety ship during the 15-minute, multi-part epic "Rime of the Ancient Mariner." It also allowed him to disappear completely during the guitar solos, when he wasn't needed.
The songs were in large part about visceral impact, which Iron Maiden nailed with a three-guitar attack, Dickinson's operatic, vibrato-saturated vocals, and Nicko McBrain's booming, thunderous drums. (He was entirely obscured by his kit, seen only when he stepped aside to let the road crew change a worn-out snare). The guitars on "Number" and "The Clairvoyant" were melodic and triumphant, while Dave Murray and Janick Gers traded solos during "Revelations" before simply settling into a speedy riff kept up for its sheer power.
Ironically, after nearly two hours of pyrotechnics, changing scenery, and robotic puppetry, Iron Maiden discarded it all to roar through the show-closing "Hallowed Be Thy Name." Even as Dickinson held an impossibly long note as the song came to a close, there was none of the gimmickry or excessive stagecraft from earlier, just six musicians playing exhilaratingly pure heavy metal three decades on.
Armed with a nothing voice and Maiden bassist Steve Harris for a father, opener Lauren Harris was unable to parlay her leather pants and stringy black hair into a convincing metal frontwoman act. She never quite commanded the stage as she led her band through material - sample lyric: "I'm so hot for you" - that, at a lower volume, could have suited Scandal in 1983.
