Heavy Metal is underated

If I’ve learned anything from experience it’s that Heavy Metal, as a musical genre, is highly underated, and highly misunderstood.

When I tell someone that I listen to or enjoy Heavy Metal there is an automatic stereo type blanketed over me, because there is a blanket conception of what Heavy Metal is.

Actually there are two, that I frequently hear. One is that heavy metal is all screams that you can’t listen to, and the other is that heavy metal is all growls that you can’t listen to.

I can’t deny that these factors don’t *exist* in heavy metal. In fact, they’re quite prominent. So I can understand where the stereotype comes from, in a sense. But most of the time, people hear one song and take a stance that all metal sounds like the song they just heard. They didn’t get it, or couldn’t hear it, or it actually was so extreme they couldn’t like it. The simple fact is that they didn’t understand it and they fear what they don’t understand. Then they don’t give anything labeled as ‘heavy metal’ a chance.

Or perhaps they just “remember” it being worse than it actually was. It’s like coming out of the tropics for the first time in your life into a brisk cool morning, and going away thinking the place was the coldest you have ever been, even if eight years later you go to the mountains where it’s snowing. It’s all relative at the time, but the relative difference is what you remember. You’ve never been so cold as you were that day you first left the tropics – and you’ve been to the snow!

And then so many people might hear something I’m listening to and tell me that it’s not what I normally listen to. They don’t say that the metal isn’t what they expected. It’s that they didn’t expect what I’m listening to to be classified as metal, so they assume it’s not. And then make a statement that they thought I *would* be listening to metal, increasing their own misconception of what metal *is*.
It actually took me several times to be told this before I really got a grasp on how to react. Should I be upset that they stereotyped me so badly? Should I be defensive that they attack my tastes in music? Or should I look down at them for being ignorent or idiotic?
I try to explain that metal isn’t what they expect, or that my taste in metal is not what they expected, or that there’s so much more to metal than they can fathom, but they pass it off as incorrect and hold their viewpoints – usually.
In some rare cases, they’ll actually listen to what you’re listening to and say it wasn’t as bad as they expected. But that’s really the end of it.
In the end, I try to just take a bla-se stance, realising that it’s not worth my effort to explain myself or metal to these people. In some ways I like that they will never take the chance to listen to metal, because they could actually start enjoying it, and I actually like knowing that people are missing out – and that I don’t follow the societal norm. It’s my thing.
Or the reverse, that they actually *do* take an interest, and I have to spend time teaching them 30 years of music that has completely passed them by. Where do you start?
Metal has grown with me over the years. I have grown with metal.
It was raw when I discovered it, and over time recording qualities have improved. Media has improved. The abilities of musicians have improved. There’s no formula to determine at which point an introductory course in metal could or should begin.
Start at the beginning, and the raw sound would turn them away for not being polished, or being too close to their fear – screaming incoherance.
Start too new, and work backwards, and you’ve started with better quality music, and they’ll get bored with older tunes. And then they’ll miss out on so many of the classics. And never understand the progression of any single band, or genre or connect sub genres.
Start in the middle? Work forward from there? Let them not understand the influences of bands, musicians, eras and genres?

Yes, people. There’s more than one kind of metal. And each genre has its own fanbase, and these people can be mutually exclusive. Different genres can be likened to each other like house and RNB, similar enough that you might like both as much as each other, or like Rap is to Jazz – so different you couldn’t possibly appreciate both.

But it’s even more than that. Heavy Metal is the culmination of all that is good in music. I think of it as an elitism.
It combines everything that is great in every other style of music. You like a solid rock beat, and energetic rythm? Rock metal for entree. Power metal for main course. You like delicate fingerwork, classical music, wind instruments, symphonies or anything similar? You might like neoclassical and perhaps some progressive metal.
You like the beat in house music? Industrial? Techno? Industrial metal for you. Try some fear factory or nine inch nails, for example.
You just like some good old tunes to tap along to? You might like the classics. Maiden, Sabbath, that sort of thing. And so on.

And there’s nothing you can’t sing about in metal. Nothing, absolutely nothing, is taboo.
And you might be sitting there telling yourself that the music you listen to is just as versatile, but if it ain’t metal, it ain’t so versatile.
Sure, in rap you can sing about shooting someone. How many rap songs sing about true and everlasting love? How many songs can Celine Dion sing that *aren’t* about love, or some other emotive state? How many angry songs can Elton John sing?
Heavy metal can have all of that and more. So much more. It can be descriptive or philosophical. There are songs of birth, of death, of afterlife. Theft, love, cars or bikes, the music, women, apocolypse, faith, broken faith, the future, the past, dragons and magic, ANYTHING. Tombstones, graverobbing, I’ll bet they’re out there. (and worse!) Ghosts, faeries, demons, succubi, vampires, alien life, even poltergeists.
Getting drunk and alcoholism – both considered in positive or negative tones, drugs, and drug abuse, the earth and environmental affairs, the philosphy of war, the irony of war, the effect of war, or just a song about war. Even just a song about the social effect of greed.

Anything you didn’t think there was a song about, there’s probably a metal song out there about it.
And the lyrics aren’t the only thing worth noting in most metal.
(And how often have you heard a song on the radio where the music took a pathetic second place to the vocals, or even just the catchy chorus?)

Most heavy metal songs are an *experience*. The songwriting talent abounds. The music is as much the focal point as any lyrics, and usually more so. It’s the energy it provides, or the resonance created within from a guitar riff, or the talent required to play the intricate melodies or solos.
But you have to focus. Metal isn’t usually background music, it’s something you listen to. Something you concentrate on, think about, appreciate. There’s gemstones in the background of a metal song, stuff you don’t hear until you listen closely. Each instrument usually presents a work of art in its own right, in so many thousands of songs.
That’s why fans of heavy metal consider it not just music but their way of life. They spend so much energy enjoying it that it becomes an integral part of them. It’s who they are. It’s what they do. It’s what they WANT to do, want to listen to, want to spend time thinking about.
Maybe that is what is feared by the others – to become totally gripped by this beast they can’t control and don’t understand.
To give up the life they know, and thought was right, to learn there’s more out there than they knew.

Stealing the blinds

I tend not to bluff.
I have played enough hands now to see what happens to me, and others, when I or they bluff – they lose.

I think it was Dan Harrington who taught me that you can’t bluff a novice. If they can’t imagine you have what you’re representing – and then fold a hand not quite as good as that (but better than what you have) then you’ve only cost yourself more chips.

On the other hand, an expert would likely have such a good read on me and the situation to know he actually has me beat, statistically or otherwise.
So when I put my chips in, I usually think I have the best hand or a good chance to get there. Most of the time, mind you, I still want everyone to fold. That is a pot you don’t have to earn.

There-in lies the allure of the bluff. Sure, it’s all about having more gustre than your opponent. That game of chicken, making the enemy stand down to your brute force, sly wit, or intimidating threat of taking all their cash. Sure, for most people, that’s what bluffing is about – I guess – but for *me*, it’s about winning something I didn’t earn with the minimal effort. Cunning.

In other words, I like to bluff when I think it’s a sure win. Some might say it’s not really bluffing if it’s a sure win, but anyone who calls usually has me beat. So I wait til they’ll fold before I even bet.

I’ve never been good at stealing blinds.
Phil Gordon tells me that to make a profit on my blinds, (because I intend to lose them usually) I need to bluff four times every three rounds to steal the blinds. Then I make a profit of one and a half bets.

Anything else on top of that is just gravy.

And every book I’ve ever read tells me that a standard play is to try steal the blinds when you have the button.
But as Phil again points out, that play is so standard, that it’s expected. Nobody raised until the button? Well he’s just gonna raise to scare us all off, right? So Phil says he makes *his* steals from the cutoff – one before the button. But who hasn’t read Phil’s book? We *all* know that’s now the new standard.

And when I raise from these positions, I always get called. Either by a good hand or by junk in the blinds – that usually hit and smash me.
So unless I have a great but speculative hand, or a monster hand (AK or AQ suited, for the former, AA,KK,QQ for the latter) I won’t raise from those seats. Instead I try to play small and hit hard, to take a bigger pot or get out early.

So why would I be writing this blog if I don’t have anything to say on this matter?

What I’ve discovered is that because I play a recognisably straight forward tight game that the only place I can steal the blinds is when I am under the gun. It really is harder to pick my spot, and I don’t usually do it with *absolute* junk, but quite often a standard raise – by me – from under the gun takes the pot. I’ve had players fold hands like Ace-Jack suited with only a Queen Ten in my hand.
Of course, this won’t work against any table with a fresh untutoured player on it – all players on the table need to recognise a tight player, and know how to play in position, and what it means to play out of position.

But when I get that table, I can steal my blinds back. I don’t get to steal four times every three rounds, but I get one or two.
And when I *finally* get called, I know I’m up against a monster. If I don’t hit the flop HARD, I bow out, get caught bluffing, and change gears. If I *do* hit the flop hard, I actually get paid for the effort.

And maybe when I get my AA under the gun, I’ll get a caller too.

Anyway, if I’ve only discovered one thing for myself in poker, or invented a play, it’s that I steal blinds from under the gun.

Evolution of a dream

It’s 1989.

I’m 15 years old, and find myself yet again changing school. I made a friend named Dean, who gave me a cassette recording of an amateur radio show on the local radio station.
This cassette was given to Dean by his brother and given to Dean’s brother by a friend of the family, who recorded the show presented by *his* friend. So I’m like the 5th generation tape owner here. Until now, my involvement in music has been particularly low. I grew up hearing Elvis Presley, the Beach Boys, pop music, and a lot of country music, such as Johnny Chester or Slim Dusty. I liked none of these bands or genres, so I actually believed I didn’t like music at all. Until I had been shown a cassette with some Anthrax and some Metallica, and then I was hungry for more.
Metal.
It was a little difficult for me to get much exposure to metal * but this cassette opened a window for me. It was biblical in its teachings of what was to become so holy.

The next year, and if my calculations are correct (and recollections!), it really is quite amazing that Dean had heard about a concert in Germany. Well not just a *concert*, but a festival of concerts. If my calculations are correct, it was the first festival held in a town named Wacken, in northern Germany. And it was amazing to us because it was such a congregation of immense proportions. 20 bands, 50,000 fans. Back then, it was unimaginable to me how this was conceivable. And I still remember Dean telling me their catch cry slogan.
“Where Metal Dreams Come True”.

Now you have to realise that there was no internet back then. In fact, in my home town of Wagga Wagga, there was no accessible internet providers for many years. “Word of mouth” really meant what it said it meant. Information passed from person to person in the form of a chinese whisper, and in the back of your mind you always questioned the legitimacy of anything you heard, but you passed it on just the same.

But the catch cry hit home a very solid truth. Where Metal Dreams Come True. And where metal dreams came true was in Germany. I must say that I *never* had the travel bug. I think I understand why, mind you, but it was just not interesting to me to travel around to see things – especially true because I had heard of nothing worth seeing. Until now.
I realised that no metal band, especially not the ones I was coming to love, would ever set foot on Australian shore. And I would never see live any of the bands which were so famous for their live performances. Unless I went to Germany.
But even then I didn’t dream to travel. I knew that if I *did* travel, it would be to see this festival, but it was an ethereal dream of great expense and unrealistic realisations. It would never happen.

Years went by, and Wacken shows were heard about from time to time. They were a myth. Something that because you couldn’t become involved you could wonder if they really were true. My collection grew, but the only concerts I was ever able to see were small and local.
There was a Ratt concert that I wasn’t able to afford to see, which Dean went to. It was held at the local Uni and he had better connections than I, and somehow managed to get in.

There was also a Screaming Jets concert that I couldn’t afford to go to, and so I gave my interim license (proof of age) to a mate of mine so he could go.
They came back the next year, and this became my first ever concert. And they were bringing a band from Scotland, called “The Almighty”. I remember I had seen a full page advert in a magazine called Hot Metal. This gave the band some credence, so I purchased their album “Soul Destruction” before the show to familiarise myself. And I liked the music. So I enjoyed the show.

This was really a bigger event for me than I then realised. It was an international act, and it didn’t even really register. And the show was in a tiny nightclub which could probably hold 200 people. The stage was literally just a raised dance floor. The guys had no room to move, were standing right over their audience, it was all up close and personal, but it was all I’d ever known, so I didn’t even appreciate the situation. But I *liked* it.

I saw the Jets a couple more times, but never having such a huge support act. I also travelled three and a half hours to Canberra for two shows: the first was Faith No More, on the “The Real Thing” tour, and also Anthrax in 1992, (I think) on their Stomp 442 tour. They brought with them Cyco Miko – effectively Suicidal Tendencies. Also, I remember an Armoured Angel concert around that time, who actually came to Wagga (but then, they were an Aussie band trying to get on their feet.)

And then no more concerts. Ever. Well, I mean, not for about seven years.
By then I had moved to Sydney, and missed some really great shows, that I didn’t know had occurred or could afford even if I had. Stuff like Megadeth or Yngwie J Malmsteen, and also a Nevermore show.

My collection had ever grown, expanded. I was able to find the existance of foreign metal with a deft precision unmatched by anyone I actually knew. Effectively, this made me the smallest minority in an already minority group. But I didn’t care – I loved the music I had.

Yet it was clear that all the concerts I had ever seen, or even missed, were either Aussie bands, or American Bands – or iconic bands such as Iron Maiden. The bands that *I* loved were European, and never before had such a band stepped foot on Australian soil. The Wacken dream was still alive, but still ethereal.

And then in 2001, beyond all of my wildest dreams, beyond all expectations and bewilderment, hope of all hopes, I learned that Edguy was touring Australia.
I can hear you now. Even through this worldwide forum called the web, I can hear you say “who the hell is Edguy?” And not just because you just read what I typed. (If you even made it this far!!)
Edguy is a band that formed in Germany, in 1992, when two guys met each other in their music class, and realised they shared the same passion. They got a foothold in the Industry, which was later boosted by having as a guest vocalist Hansi Kursch, the vocalist for Blind Guardian. (Who? Look them up. **)
This really is why I took an interest in them, and bought their album “Vain Glory Opera”. I was greatly surprised, of course, to love the entire album.
So Edguy had become another one of those bands. A band that I loved listening to, that nobody else had even heard of, and here they were – touring down under!
I was over the moon. I was beyond elation. That concert couldn’t come quick enough. Every day in waiting was an eternity. And not just for me, I’ll wager. My work colleagues would have had the same sensation in waiting for me to come back down from whatever planet I was racing across.

But it was worth it. And then some. That concert was the best show ever. It was the ultimate in concert performances, never to be outdone. It exceeded all expectations, and the expectations began high.
I don’t know if I was just in a zone, but there was an electric charge in the air that night, in the Manning Bar in Sydney. I swear the place was registered to hold 300 people but had crammed in 500. It was jammed packed. You could hardly move!
How in the world could there be 500 people in the one place who loved this band, unheard of? 500? Just like me!? 500 screaming fans, all sharing a common bond in that we were at the first European power metal concert in Oz. (well, the first performance was in Melbourne. But otherwise…)

And the band gave an effortless, incredible, performance. They played to perfection, and Tobias Sammet, the frontman, was incredibly entertaining. I was frontstage the entire time, and the stage was only waist high, so the band was within arms reach the entire time, and used that to great effect. Tobias even managed to sneak to the back of the crowd to question two patrons why they weren’t having as great a time as the rest of us. I have never been *so* hoarse ever again as I was the day after that show. I was given *three* guitar picks by the guitarist Jens – one of which I gave away, one other I dropped by accident on the floor.

Everything Tobias did felt spontaneous. None of his humour was scripted, and he made us laugh between every song. Audience participation was intense, and there was such a connection between the band and the crowd that was just so amazing.
One thing I’ll always remember is that Tobias promised that he would take back to Germany how great we were, and next time maybe even bring back even bigger bands, such as Blind Guardian or Gamma Ray. And it was clear, then, with the crowd’s reaction that my dream was not mine alone.

They came back in 2004 which was also a special performance. Alas, it was without any of the great bands so promised, but there is more to that, perhaps later.

In 2002, my grandmother passed away, leaving me a small amount of cash (due to the fact that there were so many people so entitled.)
Her possessions were divvied out among my relatives and I, but for this cash, I decided to do something that would never be forgotten. Instead of buying something that would become obsolete or not leave a lasting impression, I wanted to do something with such an impact it could always be remembered, and be something – the last thing – that was given to me by Nan.
And it so happened – by fate, or destiny? – that Wacken was garnered the most impressive lineup I have before or since ever seen.
Approximately half of the 50 or so bands were straight out of my collection. At least… well, there were A LOT. And not just subsidiary purchases that were less significant. I’m talking *the* bands. The ones that had made an impact on my musical choices through life. Rage, Gamma Ray, Annihilator, Iced Earth – who were later replaced by Twisted Sister and equally as influencial – Testament, Sentenced, and then some. No Blind Guardian, mind you, but I mean, you can’t have everything, right?

There were just TOO many bands there that I loved. Primal Fear, and their sister band Sinner, Sonata Arctica, Symphorce, Circle II Circle, and did I mention Rage and Gamma Ray? These two were my first two loves in European metal (Gamma Ray was formed by the founder of Helloween. That counts.) This was massive.

So my nan’s money purchased the air fare for Rachel and I to travel to Frankfurt, Germany. From there, it was a simple case of driving to Wacken, where metal dreams come true. Where metal dreams DID come true. Everything was just as they promised. 50,000 fans, all in the same place. Joined by a common bond – the love of the music. It was a cultural exposure that isn’t documented. The Deutsch have a different attitude toward metal than I (or many Aussies I’ve met) have – simply because of the abundant availability.
I met people who spent the entire three days in the campsite! They were there for the party because they’d seen all their favourite bands in concert so many times they didn’t need to do so here.
I could write forever about the experience, so I won’t.

When it was over, there was a change in me. A dream had come to fruition, and really, I didn’t have any other dreams. I guess I still wanted to see Blind Guardian, and a few other bands that I love, but … I had now seen live so many of the bands I love that the impact wasn’t so significant. I knew. I knew what the concerts would be like. I knew that my dream had concluded, and so it evolved.

I started dreaming a new dream. A bigger dream. One much harder to fulfill than the last one ever was – and when I look back to the beginning of that dream, it seemed so inconceivable that to have actually achieved it can’t be fathomed, even though I know it’s true.
It took fifteen years to come to fruition, and when you look at it like that, it’s the single greatest achievement of my life. When I first started listening to metal, it seemed to be a *fact* that I’d never see them. It was completely inconceivable to change.

So my new dream is so immense that I wonder if it will take as long to complete.
My dream, conceptually, is simple. Bring Wacken to Australia.
Not Wacken, per se, certainly not the town that *is* Wacken, but the idea of the festival. The culture. The culmination of bands and the fruition of dreams. I would have to take a lot of things from Wacken, simply because it is a model that has worked. I haven’t investigated, but I sure hope that wouldn’t be a problem.

I’ve been to many concerts since 2003, and in fact many of the bands I’d have died to see in Germany have in fact played Australian shores now. Many are those I saw in Germany: Gamma Ray, Nightwish, and well, ok. Not that many. But others include the infamous Blind Guardian who toured in Feb 2007, but only played in Melbourne. Also there was Evergrey, and.. well, did I mention Gamma Ray? Not to forget Helloween are on their way over as I type, and Iron Maiden played last night (and will again tonight, tho’ without me in the audience). Anthrax have returned twice, Nightwish also – and Megadeth too, and even the shows I *missed* were huge. Angra played Sydney while I was in Melbourne watching Nightwish, and played Melbourne while I was in Sydney, watching Nightwish. Then Angra loved Sydney so much they came back that weekend, when I was travelling to Wagga. While I was in Germany in 2003, Doro Pesch – formally of Warlock – played Oz.
In each of these shows I try and take stock of things such as the number of people there, the shirts they wear, and the price they paid.
There is a level of dedication and commitment in these fans that is tangible. The shirt you wear to a concert are your colours, your pride, a statement of who you are and who you listen to. So when I see European power metal shirts at an Anthrax concert it means more to me than it would just seeing a metal shirt worn down the street.
There are people dedicated enough when a band tours to see more than one show of that band, and in more than one location.
When Nightwish toured recently, Rachel and I bought tickets to BOTH shows in Melbourne, and also the show in Sydney. That’s three times we saw them on consecutive nights, with air fare and accomodation between. I wasn’t the only one, and many others do it by grander scale.
At Blind Guardian, there were people from outback New South Wales there. There were people from PERTH. These people are willing to travel, willing to pay. They went to both shows in Melbourne (as did I) and perhaps would have followed them to other cities if they so much as went. I know a person who followed Edguy through four cities one year, from Adelaide to Brisbane.

What I’ve seen is that there are a whole lotta people who have a whole lotta commitment to these bands, and I actually believe that had I the funds behind me, a successful venture would be created. And so I have dreamed. I don’t dream often, so I don’t dream small.
I have dreamed of a place where people from Australia can all travel to, over a long weekend, and listen to all their favourite bands. The success is in the fact that *everyone* would have to travel, the bands and the fans, but because of this, it would be a huge success.
It’s worth it for a fan to travel to see even three of their favourite bands, because I’ve seen them do it just to see one (as I have also done).
And its worth it for the bands to fly to Oz just to do one show, because ALL their fans would be there, not just the small cult population in each major city. 300 in Sydney? 500 in Melbourne? 200 in Bris or Adelaide? Or perhaps 900 instead at my show.
Saves their costs in flying city to city, and renting motels for a week or two. And they could even relax for a day to see Australia – and let’s face it. They all want to. Or mingle with their fans, and increase their fan base. Because there would be people there who had never heard of them – come to see other bands instead, but are caught up in the moment, or watch the show between the two they wanna see. Or meet the band and think they were so cool, they’d catch their show. Or even through word of mouth of people they had met on the day, or last year, or whenever. “You like Maiden? You really need to see Edguy, and probably these bands too. But don’t miss Edguy!”

Everything builds upon itself. Not to forget the economic gain of a community that hosts for as many as 20 bands (and crews) and 10,000 fans. Or more.
The Acer Arena last night was almost packed. It’s a 21,000 seat arena and that probably doesn’t include the standing area which I guess held another 2000 people last night. Even if there was 20000 people, that’s a huge exposure for any other band who catches some of that. A silver ticket costed $100, a gold was $180, standing tickets were $140. Even at $100 a ticket, that’s 2 million bucks turnover, without food and drinks. For one night, and they are holding the show two nights.

Catering to 20000 fans would be a factor. In fact, you’d need to cater to more. If you billed Iron Maiden and even just five other bands you can easily get fans of the other bands who are no fans of Maiden. And that was just SYDNEY. Maiden played Melbourne also, which would have been just as big, and I doubt the crowd was even as high a percentage of Melbourne fans catching an extra show as 5%. So let’s double that number. 40000 fans. Make it an even 50000 fans that you can expect to turn up each year to an annual event, if you get the right billing, at the right time of the year, when everyone is available (or makes themself available.)
At $100 a ticket, that’s 5 million in turnover on tickets alone. Yes, your expenses are high, especially your set up costs. But Wacken has been running 20 years now. At some point their expenses flattened, while their revenue increased. They must be profiting or they’d be closed. If any fan of any band is willing pay $100 to see ONE band, how much would they pay to see more?
I am going to say not much more, simply because there are other factors involved. Travel. Accomodation (which is why camping is provided at Wacken), food. These are hidden costs that fans need to and will consider as part of the cost.
But if any fan is willing to fork out as much as three grand to go to Europe every year to see Wacken (and other festivals to make it worth their while), they would certainly pay $100 plus maybe $300 airfare, plus food for a three day weekend on their homeland.

To establish the festival ground, you can generate income from vendors such as food, liquor or retail. Promotions, advertisement, and self made merchandise. I believe that every year the planning would be almost year long, just to make the next show available. So it would be a full time job, and actually require a staff that needs to get paid. But all in all, it would be a success. If it wasn’t, there would be no Wacken.

Not to forget the impact on the community. 50000 mouths need to be fed for three days. Bands need accommodation. That’s a lotta motel rooms (that I would try to buy in bulk), and all these fans might wanna go into town, or look around. Or in the least get to the camp ground from the airport – which is a lucrative contract for a bus company. Taxis would do well also. Local taverns would prosper. So too would any custom tailored retailer who set up on the grounds. CDs, shirts, memorabilia, and other heavy metal accessories would all sell like hotcakes.

So that’s my new dream. The problem is that it would require a massive amount of capital to kick it off.
I don’t dream small. I want proper plumbing for showers and toilets. I don’t just want portaloos, I want a permanant festival ground, owned and operated by me. (I could lease this out, of course, to other clients during the year.) I want this to be an enjoyable experience to make sure people return year after year.
So I’d have to buy the land, and goodness knows how many permits to be too loud for too long. Plus what festival doesn’t sell beer? So there’s a liquor license required, and they ain’t easy to get. And a Security contract.

But the huge cost is in my stage idea. I don’t want to reveal it cos, well, it’s such a GREAT idea. Wacken have a temp stage that they assemble every year, and dis-assemble afterward. They run the show in a farmer’s paddock, and leave it as a paddock afterward. I wouldn’t have to do this. I could have a grand stage, permanantly erected, and I have – as I said – a vision for that. This vision is what would actually make the venture such a success.

Not to forget the costs of bringing big named international bands to Australia at a time assigned by me, not them, to fit into my schedule, not theirs. That is significant also, but would ease over time as popularity grew, and word of mouth spread about the festival’s achievements.

Could you imagine if I pulled this off? It would be a dream come true. Doubly so, because I would be creating the MEANS to achieve my own dreams – to see those bands live that I always thought I’d never see. Manowar on Australian shores? That would be intense. Every metal band out there would have a “Down Under” DVD. Edguy down under. Blind Guardian Down Under. Manowar Down Under. They’d probably call it Manowar goes down under, or something else with crude connotations.

I would never have to *work* again, I would only have to constantly chase my dream. That would make it three dreams in one, no?
And it would have all started from a single cassette given to me by a friend, a long, long time ago.

* A blog on this to follow, perhaps.
** Blind Guardian, by all surprises, was first introduced to me on *that* cassette! I searched all media for four years and never heard or read their name. Nobody knew who they were, but my favourite song on that cassette was theirs. I searched and searched, and one day by pure chance happened upon their album. A new passion developed for German Power Metal. Well, I mean, Helloween was already in my reportoire but that’s a technicality. And Rage. Shoosh.

Iron Maiden at the Acer Arena

As far as bands go, Iron Maiden aren’t one of my favourites.

I mean, one of the first songs I ever heard that I actually *liked* was an Iron Maiden song, and if the first album I ever purchased wasn’t Iron Maiden’s “Seventh Son of a Seventh Son”, the second album I purchased was.
Not to forget that this same album holds the record for “most times I’ve purchased a single album”. (Once on cassette, and three times on CD, and no purchases were with the intent to give it away.)

I’ve listened to Iron Maiden since 1989, or so, and so have many of my friends – somewhat thanks to me.
But just because they were ‘first’ doesn’t make them ‘favourite’ – merely ‘prominant’. Very often it’s easy to give too much credit to the people who do things first, rather than best.

After I fell in love with 7th Son, I went back through some of the collection. Number of the Beast was next, followed by Killers, and Iron Maiden (the self titled album). I then went and filled the gaps – Powerslave, Somewhere In Time, Live After Death, and so forth, in no particular order. Indeed, I didn’t purchase these until MUCH later in life. I listened to them when my friends did, which was often enough already.
I did purchase No Prayer For The Dying on its release, and I found it somewhat boring, to be honest. So when Fear of the Dark was released, I let my friends buy it.

In 1992, Iron Maiden came to Australia off the back of that album. A lot of my friends bought expensive tickets and travelled five hours to get to the show. (And five hours back!) I couldn’t afford it and wasn’t able to go, but then, I wasn’t entirely disappointed by that. I mean, my friends raved about that concert for years – literally – but I was OK with that. Even then, only three years after my introduction to metal, Iron Maiden was already fading. I loved Seventh Son of a Seventh Son, and perhaps also Number of the Beast; but overall, they never ever rated as a favourite band.

So when Iron Maiden returned to Australia, the same friends were very keen. Somewhere between 1992 and now, 2008, I realised that a lot of Iron Maiden’s music was very repetitive. Somehow that worked in their earlier music, but annoyed me greatly in more recently released stuff. But as I listened to anything Maiden, I kept listening – and hearing – excessive repetition. Like I already said, sometimes that worked in their favour, but that only seemed true for earlier recordings.
For example, the Live in Rio DVD that my friend bought was not something I could have sat through a second time. Even in Dolby Surround.
Safe to say that I didn’t jump out of my seat to get any tickets for the return concert.

My friends did!

Not too long ago, my friend advised me – with great regret – that he would be unable to attend the Maiden show. He, in particular, loved the 1992 show, and had followed them closely when Bruce returned to the band, and had bought all releases and judged them fairly on their merits. He even bought the compilation album even though he owned every album. But his overseas holiday travels had him leaving the day before the concert and he offered his ticket to me.

I figured this was one of those destiny moments when something I’m meant to do just falls in my lap, so I accepted the offer, and the agreed upon price was that I buy him a way cool shirt, as is our wont.
I asked Rachel if she wanted to go also, and she declined. She too wasn’t *particularly* interested in the band as a whole, even though there are songs she likes.

So the day drew nearer. In fact, the day is/was today. And this morning, Rachel asked me if Lee (one of the other friends) still had any spare tickets. I called him, and as it turned out, his wife had hurt her back and couldn’t go.
This was very unfortunate for her – she was greatly looking forward to the show. Very keen. But the ticket was going to waste, and so Rachel came along and we paid Lee for the value of the ticket. I’m sorry that my friend’s wife missed the show.

I bought two shirts, stashed them in the car, and met up with the guys.

And then the show began. We found our seats without difficulty.

The first support act was actually the daughter of the bass guitarist, song writer and founder of Iron Maiden.
When we walked in five minutes before the doors were advertised to be open, she was already on stage playing. And not bad at all.
I’m gonna go check out her tunes after I write this blog.
Lauren Harris. Look her up.

The second support act was an Aussie band, the name of whom I am unsure. As I also am as to why they were chosen as the support act. I’m not saying they were of low calibre, but their style was greatly misplaced at a Maiden show. They were actually booed off stage, and didn’t really deserve it. It was greatly amusing!

And then Maiden played.

Actually, at 9:10PM I figured the show wouldn’t continue (begin?) for at least 20 mins, as things usually work by the half hour. So I made the executive decision to visit the lav. And would you believe it? The music blaring during the roadie’s setup time smoothly rolled into a Maiden tune. An earlier song, with no lyrics. From the Killers album I believe. And I was at the loo, hearing the cheers of thousands of fans. I made my way back, to hear the intro to Aces High.
That’s a great song, one I’ve always liked, and fitting for an intro song. I tried taking a few photos with my phone camera but I don’t think they came out too well. I couldn’t find a zoom function, and realised that I haven’t really played with my phone much.
I later learned that I missed some video footage of Bruce flying (or landing?) their jumbo and the band signing stuff for airline staff. Darn!

The next song was another of my favourites, as Maiden goes, called Revelations. This was when I experimented with the video capture feature. But apparantly you have to press the ‘record’ button twice for it to work, so I missed most of that. I worked out by the second verse that it wasn’t recording. So I got the guitar solo, and settled for that.

The next song the played was another classic, called The Trooper. I actually filmed this song in entirety, but only later through the song I discovered there was a zoom ability. So OK, I’m still quite a novice cameraman. I’m getting there
And I wonder how it turned out. I kinda took this footage for my mate who couldn’t be there. And also kinda cos I like experimenting with filming and photographing concerts.

The next song, “The Wasted Years”, is one that never really was a favourite of mine. They played it well, to their credit, and I tapped along, but I didn’t get into it like many other songs.
It was followed by the ultra-classic “Number of the Beast”, though, which was when I began to attempt to sing along. I tried capturing it on my phone, but my battery was low, and it flatly refused to assist me further. And that pun was not intended!

Can I Play With Madness was the next enjoyable tune, but I kinda started daydreaming through the next three songs.
Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner – for me – is too long and tedious. There’s nothing about it that catches my attention and holds it. Powerslave is ok, but again not one of my favourites, and Heaven Can Wait kinda bores me. Without the ‘kinda’.

Maiden snapped me back into the show, though, when the entire roadie crew came on stage and started singing along to the backing vocal choruses. It was very amusing, and then the song ended soon enough after that I was focused again.

The next song was Run To The Hills, and I realised while singing that song that I was starting to go hoarse, so I backed off a little.
They followed up with Fear of the Dark, which was enjoyable, but not entirely enthralling, and their self titled song (from their self titled album) Iron Maiden – which has always been one of my favourite Maiden songs.

I didn’t care that I was going hoarse. I didn’t even care that I don’t *truly* know all the lyrics to that song. I just loved singing along to a song I love.
After that, they left the stage, we did the standard cheering, they did the standard ‘come back for the encore’.

They finished the night with Moonchild, The Clairvoyant and Hallowed Be Thy Name. These three are all great songs, and I enjoyed them greatly.
So what did I think, overall of the show? Did they rock? Or suck?

Iron Maiden rocked. And, honestly, we expected no less, did we?
No band can last 30 years without knowing how to provide excellent live entertainment.
The stage show was amazing. The set was amazing. The performance was excellent and energetic, with very few pauses. And when they did need to change their gear, Bruce covered it very well with amusing banter about anything he could think of. Whether it was the Aussie guy providing the fireworks “on demand” (which he didn’t!), or the Australian airline QANTAS (which they had absolutely no requirement for, seeing as they own and fly their own self-branded jumbo!), or even just getting us to cheer, which seemed all too easy – for a change.

In fact, somewhere early in the set, we cheered for a solid 45 seconds or more. Not that I timed it – I didn’t – but Bruce admitted that we’d done his work for him, because he was supposed to amuse us for the 45 seconds it took for them to change guitars, and he’d been given a standing ovation without having to do a bloody thing. It was certainly a highlight of the night. The band was genuinely appreciative of the fans’ appreciation. But that’s a topic for another blog – about Metal bands that tour Australia.

Speaking of highlights, another was during the song “Iron Maiden” where Eddie the Head made an appearance. If you’ve never seen a Maiden gig, and you dunno to what I am referring, you are missing out. They had a 15 foot characature of their mascot Eddie appear on stage. It walked out on stage, carrying a laser gun which it pointed at the crowd several times. It pretended to (or actually did?) bang on Janick’s guitar several times before walking back and pretending to play someone else’s. Meanwhile Janick managed to throw his guitar perhaps five metres into the air and catch it without a problem. Sorry for mixing my measurements there. (Feet and metres.)

This act was enthralling. And I have to say, that so many times there were so many things going on – either on the stage, or on the screens displaying the footage of one of their cameras (I think they had four?) or even stuff going on in the crowd.

Like the two guys actually dressed up as different versions of Eddie, one of whom was in the standing crowd and got a direct response from Bruce.
Something like “What are you doing out of your box? You’re not due until later!”

Do you know, the only thing that wasn’t enjoyable about this show was the ending. Yep. It ended. Would have loved at least another hour. And I *know* that they have enough quality songs to deliver that.

So we left, paid for parking, got to the car, and left in short order. It was all too easy, even with the 10,000 cars that must have been leaving at that time. And I started dreaming an old dream that I’ve had so many times while driving home. But that, too, is for another blog.