A forecast

Today there is a 100% chance of rock, with cold beers approaching from the South. Towards the end of the day, an area of London will be covered in a cloud of Eddies and which may cause flash singalongs in lower regions.

It's the penultimate night of Iron Maiden's Final Frontier tour tonight. I've been awake since 7am wondering when it's appropriate to crack open a beer to get the ball rolling. In t-minus 4 hours me and The House will be on a train to London reliving our monumental Maiden Twickenham 2008 outing and discussing how today will have some shoes to fill but judging from the setlist of the tour so far, it looks extremely possible. The O2 is an excellent venue but it doesn't have the sun-soaked open air vibe of Twickers. We shall see.

DragonForce supporting is a bit disappointing as, although I thought Inhuman Rampage was a belter of an album, they haven't done anything new or exciting for some time. This will be the first time I've seen them since new vocalist Marc Hudson joined after original wailer ZP Theart buggered off so open-minded one is remaining.

Joining the festivities today is Maiden 2008/Metallica 2009 veteran Bandy, Sonisphere compadre Petrovski and work colleague/slightly unhinged former soldier CJZ. In a word, this is going to be a big day. The write up will be on MetalasFuck once I've regained my motor skills.

UP THE IRONS!

M

\m/

Wormgrind?

After the abomination that was February's gig attendance, I'm hoping March is going to be less of a catastrophic failure. This month I'm lucky enough to have British metallers Malefice playing about a ten minute walk from my house, which is going to be pretty fucking special (providing the home town can deliver a better turnout than we did with Madball). These guys made it into my top ten of 2009 with their second album Dawn Of Reprisal and I've only seen them live once in the past, so one is particularly excited, innit.

Then it's the perpetually hated Trivium, with support coming from the excellent Chimaira and Whitechapel. So all in all, good things are on the horizon. Best not jinx it though...

The mighty Maiden have confirmed that their new album, without doubt the most anticipated release of 2010, will be called The Final Frontier. I can already foresee me, Shithouse and Bandy camping outside the local HMV on release day (which is as yet TBC) as I'm nowhere near an important enough music hack to get a preview copy. Although if anyone from their management is reading this, I will do anything to get my hands on it. Anything (cue horrendous and scarring image of me being sexy and seductive).

One of the most frustrating things about the last week is BBC director general Mark Thompson's proposed closure of BBC 6Music. For those of you who don't know, 6Music is a DAB radio station in the UK that delivers a genuine mix of music on a daily basis. They may not have a plethora of metal on their playlists but you can expect a healthy chunk of G'n'R, Maiden, Metallica, and the like. Plus, I got a massive rouge throbber this week when DJ Steve Lamacq span the Leatherface classic Do The Right Thing. That man deserves a fucking OBE as I didn't think anyone after the legendary John Peel would ever adorn the airwaves with the wonders of Sunderland's finest punk legends. So do me a favour; sign this petition as it may be the only way to prevent me having to listen to Lady Gaga and Girls Aloud all day in the office.

Album of the week for me has to be Wormrot's latest beauty Abuse. 23 songs,including eloquently titled So Fierce For Fuck!?, Shitlack and Fuck...I'm Drunk, this quality album is over and done with in about 20 minutes. I can honestly say that Wormrot are my favourite grindcore band from Singapore, without a doubt.

(Must digress briefly as I've got my non-Apple MP3 on shuffle at the mo and NOFX Don't Call Me White has just come one. What. A. Fucking. Tune.)

My festival update:

Sonisphere - Skunk Anansie, Funeral For A Friend, Apocalyptica, Fighstar, Apocalyptica, Gallows

Download - no announcement

Download wins, purely as I have never been less interested by announcement than Sonisphere's this week. A few good bands there but hardly enough to make you need a bit of locked-door private time.

And on that note, I bid you adieu. Oh, and check out the latest installment of my column on MetalasFuck; I know you've nothing better to do.

Have a fucking brutal weekend

M

\m/

Ready for take off

Sitting outside the boozer on April 21st, reading my book, chugging a few Guinnesses, the sun was shining and I was in high spirits. For April 21st is National Maiden Day. And alas, me and the chaps had tickets to the flight of the century; Flight 666. Not just tickets; Shithouse had booked premier seats (essentially more arse room and a bit of space to stretch out and do double pedal on the floor).

Shithouse and Bandy turned up at the end of pint two, so we had time for another quick 150% of pintage before heading in for a £35 hot dog. The day was going shaggingly well. We also bumped into my mate Jawsome who had made a 10-mile journey on his own for the screening. All four of us were wearing different Eddie colours, along with the other 50 metallers in the vicinity. The look on the faces of the punters who had come for a quiet "rom com" with their partners was rather entertaining.

If you don't know or have been living in an arsehole for the last six months, the film is a rockumentary about the first leg of Maiden's "Somewhere Back In Time" tour - that's the one I went to at Twickenham and you didn't. In your face. Sorry. As you'd expect, it opens with Churchill's speech and quickly into "Aces High", filmed in Mumbai. Seeing tens of thousands of Indians going ballistic to Maiden is, to be honest, a sight to behold. We follow Pilot Bruce and the cartel aboard their Boeing 757 and hitting venues such as Costa Rica (affectionately referred to by one fan as "the ass of the world") and Argentina and at every show, they play with the ferocity and sheer bloody tightness of a band half their age. Nicko McBrain has the most insane ability to gallop a single pedal and Harris's bass strum sounds as natural as a heartbeat (I left that analogy in as it's literally the gayest, most rubbish thing I have ever written).

I'm not going to go into too much detail about this film as, if you're any kind of metal fan, you'd have heard about 20 reviews so far anyway. Quite simply, go and watch the fucking film. Buy it on DVD. And Blu-Ray. And VHS, Betamax, cassette, CD, 12-inch and minidisc. Watching this is like being at a Maiden show (without the flying bottles of piss and crying teenagers trying to escape the pit) but despite having been there, seeing them do this shit in the flesh, it still doesn't prepare you for the way the South Americans, Indians, etc. respond when the boys take the stage. I've never seen a band command pure adoration from a literally global audience.

Get this film. Then go and see Maiden anywhere you can because believe you me possums, you need them in your life.

The day that finally came

The day arrived, and me and Shithouse kicked off the beers at 13:30 in true heavy metal style. For at that point, we were only five hours away from the Dark Lords and by arse, the excitement was running like the blood of a slaughtered dragon (not sure why I've gone all Manowar here but it's my blog, so whatever...)

Bandy picked us up, and off we went, three fucking metallers with inflatable guitars in a company Vauxhall Vectra. For 'tis how we roll. We got to the O2 after a rousing chorus of the Kill 'Em All album en route and set off in search of a beer. Met up with Metal-R from my work, then the four of us hit the bar. We sold the car so we could afford the second round in the Guitar Hero bar, and by now me and Shithouse were a tad beered up.

We were all keen to catch Sword and Machine Fucking Head so took our seats relatively early doors. Sword, I must confess, I knew very little about but after an impressive, prog-inspired few songs, I can see them being a band I take an interest in.

Machine Head didn't have the same energy as the last few times I've seen them but in all fairness, this wasn't their fault. The mass appeal of Metallica means that the front standing area was a mix of old rockers, young emos, and every type of person in between. For this reason, the fucking bat shit donkey rape carnage of the circle pit you'd expect was little more than a couple of people fidgeting around, occasionally grazing the person next to them. Even my inspirational shout of "START A CIRCLE PIT YOU FUCKING PUSSIES!" didn't set them off. Strange.

Machine Head limped through a much more family-friendly set than usual but it wasn't for the want of trying. Rob Flynn's calls for a pit were greeted with a couple of moments where it looked like it may go but alas, the front was a bunch of gaylords.

Not too long after the Bay Area gods left the stage, house lights went down.

It was beginning.

The crowd were on their feet.

And fuck me didn't they start well.

Opening with a track off the new album was bold but inspired. "That Was Just Your Life" threw the crowd into a frenzy (still no pit though) which continued for the next few songs. The positioning of the stage made this an even better spectacle than was expected - friends have been to the O2 and seen bands with the stage at one end, never positioned dead centre of the arena. We all had a great view, the acoustics were awesome (Bandy had a few issues with it but he'd had 3 Pro Plus and 4 Red Bulls - he could have been raped in the ear by a Silverback and would barely have noticed) and the interaction was something else.

As "One" opened, my neck was at breaking point but we kept the momentum going. In all honesty, the double-pedal breakdown in the middle of the song was pretty fucking terrible by Lars, and there was a couple of hits that he clearly missed but the crazy little bastard had so much energy, I think I was the only sad twat who noticed.

My lighter ran out of petrol during "Nothing Else Matters" but this tune was probably my highlight of the show. Metallica's haunting epic being backed by 20,000 loyal fans, in an atmospherically lit venue the size of a football stadium. And the fact they ended and went straight for "Enter Sandman" only exemplified their greatness and absolutely mastery of the crowd.

Ending with "Seek and Destroy" meant we all left on a high. Sorry, let me rephrase that. We left on a monumental, 10-storey high with sea views and personal helipad. My one criticism, and this is not of the band, was the lacklustre front of the crowd. Iron Maiden at Twickenham was fight-for-your-life carnage; this could have been as good but the cross-over nature of Metallica's music meant that the range of those at the front was so great that it never really kicked off. Me and Shithouse tried to storm the crowd but the ever vigilant security guards stopped us pretty sharpish. Which is probably just as well; I don't think they were ready for about 30-stone of drunken windmilling.

To summarise, in essence, I would like to say, Metallica owned the O2. They were the Masters, we were the Puppets.

Boom boom.

DOWNLOAD UPDATE:
Faith No More to headline?? I fucking like your style boys! Journey as a rumoured addition? Get that in and I'll touch you all in a sexy place...