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Confession time. Back in high school, I didn’t own a jean jacket with patches, nor sport a mullet. I didn’t smoke cigarettes, nor drive an old Chevelle or Camaro. And my record collection was noticeably devoid of any of the NWOBHM bands at the time, the most noticeable proponents being JUDAS PRIEST and IRON MAIDEN. Yeah, heavy metal parking lot was a foreign planet to me as I stuck to my JOE JACKSON, CLASH and ELVIS COSTELLO records. Flash forward to the 30th anniversary of British Steel (the record being celebrated tonight, and rightfully included in the metal pantheon) and the audience hasn’t changed too much, aside from three decades of getting a bit paunchier and grayer.
Priest was not following that plan. Once “War Pigs” ended over the PA (a tip of the cap to fellow brummies and noticeable inspiration BLACK SABBATH) and the industrial scene on the scrim fell to the stage floor, it was game on. KK DOWNING and GLENN TIPTON still fit into their their tight leather and spandex trousers with ease, and ROB HALFORD looked the part of an impish demon, head cleanly shorn and full goatee a hirsute counterpoint; however, a keen-eyed fan would take note of the black trainers Rob wore on his feet, a concession to comfort at the expense of a biker look, which would have favored engineer boots. Fans who were not confused by the opening of “Rapid Fire,” with “Breaking The Law” only appearing until song three were obviously clued into the original UK song running order and not the revamped US edition. Against a backdrop of the cover art (the unmistakable image of a hand clutching a safety razor), the band had loosened the crowd up and gotten them into participatory mode with “United,” a full-on stadium crowd chanter if there ever was one. It was reminiscent of the UK football anthems, and only lacked people at the back edges of crowd waving enormous banners. “Living After Midnight” was another identifiable song which got the female portion of the crowd plugged back in (it seemed like they were there mostly for openers WHITESNAKE), and while it is an agreeable, well-written fist pumper, it was no match for the power of “The Rage” and especially “Steeler” which featured Downing doing some massive whammy bar action on his Flying V that would have impressed KAWABATA MAKOTO, with green lasers shooting off into the distance.
Once that material was over, Priest stretched into a showcase stretching all the back to Sad Wings of Destiny for “The Ripper.” Starting with the familiar twin leads of Tipton and Downing entwining around each other, chasing but never catching each other, Halford unleashed a few primal screams, operatic in their execution. His voice was actually pretty strong throughout, only noticeably thin on the first song of the encore “Freewheel Burning”; maybe he choked on some of the exhaust from the massive black and gleaming chrome Harley softail he rode in on. Aside from that, Halford showed for the most part that he can hold a note like he’s sticking and twisting a dagger in it, waiting, and then pulling it out and letting it crumple to the floor.
One last note. People may have viewed this tour as a nostalgia trip, and may have perceptions that Priest hasn’t put out a good record in twenty years. Though they only played “Prophecy,” last year’s Nostradamus is excellent, even catching the attention of unlikely fans such as DAVID TIBET of CURRENT 93. Do yourself a favor and get a copy.
Speaking of nostalgia trips, Whitesnake came out like a time capsule from the ’80s, shirts open and teeth gleaming like nothing had ever changed. After a decade-plus of supremacy, hair metal died a quick death once Cobain launched the meteor that killed the dinosaurs. But, memories burned into a teenaged brain die slowly, and there was plenty of hand-clapping and singing along to the MTV anthems of yore. Leader DAVID COVERDALE could still use a mic stand as a phallic prop like no other, and between songs displayed a very regal British accent that I wasn’t expecting. Unfortunately, guitar solo duels (both rounds of it) and bass solos were something I did expect, and they were delivered in a most wankful manner. Once power ballad cheese such as “Is This Love” was endured (I wonder if the Zippo lighter booth saw heavy sales that night), the decent radio fodder of “Here I Go Again” and “Still Of The Night” closed their set.
Openers POP EVIL were an unknown to me, and bridged the gap of hair and heavy metal kinda like GUNS AND ROSES did but lacked any songs even a third as memorable. Apparently “100 in a 55” is getting some buzz, but any song with lyrics like “I still believe in this rock and roll/And I pray the music gonna save my soul” makes me pray for meteors. That said, at least they were a fun band to shoot.
Click the hyperlinks for more photos of Judas Priest and Pop Evil
