I’m back at Birmingham’s main arena for the third time in 14 years to see Iron Maiden – this time on their “Run For Your Lives World Tour.” Even after five decades, Maiden still command a level of excitement few bands can match, and with 15,000 fans filling the Utilita, the energy feels especially charged.
This isn’t just another show – it’s the 50th anniversary tour, marking half a century since Steve Harris decided to shake the world with a bass and a dream. The occasion demands something bigger, bolder – something different. And as the house lights drop and the massive LED screen sparks to life, you just know that they’re going to deliver.
What follows is an engrossing, animated history lesson – Iron Maiden’s journey from the streets of East London to global metal icons, told through fast-paced visuals and razor-edged nostalgia. It’s the first time I’ve seen them lean into tech this hard, and it will become part of the show itself, evolving throughout the night with rich, cinematic backdrops that match each song’s theme, era, and artwork.
For now, the screen lands on the dark alleys and ‘Killers’ artwork, and suddenly the band are on stage, opening with a blistering ‘Murders in the Rue Morgue’, the first of a Paul Di’Anno-era four in a row. ‘Wrathchild’, ‘Killers’, and ‘Phantom of the Opera’ follow. During ‘Killers’, the first full Eddie appears, stalking the stage with a hatchet in hand and eyeballing both band members and audience with murderous intent .. that is before Bruce sees him off with a whack to the nads! It’s pure theatrical Maiden, and it works brilliantly.
Dickinson, ever the master of metal ceremony, appears in a leather jacket that looks like it’s been peeled off his 1982 self. His voice remains immense, and his energy, borderline supernatural – but how he wears that jacket in the sweltering arena heat is a mystery to modern science. He introduces new drummer Simon Dawson – now officially christened by the Maiden faithful – while respectfully nodding to Nicko McBrain’s legacy.
As the set unfolds, we’re treated to a tour through Maiden’s golden eras. ‘The Number of the Beast’ gets an early outing, wrapped in monochrome horror-film imagery, while ‘The Clairvoyant’ brings an icy mysticism to the fore. ‘Powerslave’ comes backed by an Egyptian inferno, and then ‘2 Minutes to Midnight’ is rattled off as sharply as ever.
Before diving into ‘Rime of the Ancient Mariner’, Bruce quips: “As a man once said – this is not what to do if your bird shits on you!” Cue 14 minutes of maritime metal perfection, with brooding visuals of ghost ships and cursed sailors. Then ‘Run to the Hills’ lands with particular significance. “This is where I came in,” Bruce says, referring to his first single with the band in 1982. A full-circle moment.
Classic songs and the display aside, the human side of Maiden is in full view. Steve Harris is his ever-reliable, bass-gunning self – with those fingers that just might be bionic. Janick Gers, defying logic at 68, flings his guitar and himself across the stage with reckless precision. And while the middle of ‘Seventh Son of a Seventh Son’ stretches a little long, the payoff is worth it – Dave Murray and Adrian Smith’s guitar work in the final section is nothing short of celestial.
The “four in a line” string section stance appears more than once – never more powerful than during ‘The Trooper’ and a thunderous ‘Hallowed Be Thy Name’, It’s an image that could be printed on currency. All before a storming version of ‘Iron Maiden’, with its own incredible effects – which, like those in other songs, are best left unspoiled here.
The setlist has been a balance of nostalgia, surprise, and outright fan service, and the encore lifts things again. ‘Aces High’, ‘Fear of the Dark’ and ‘Wasted Years’ – forever the most bittersweet Maiden song – wrapping it all up and leaving the arena exhausted, elated, and completely spellbound.
As Monty Python’s ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life’ rolls across the speakers, a familiar mix of laughter and melancholy fills the air. Tonight is proof that Iron Maiden are still evolving, still surprising, and still utterly dominant. The past has been honoured, the present electrified, and the future – whatever it may hold – feels just a little brighter for having witnessed this.
Review & Photography: Steve Johnston
