Iron Maiden
Iron Maiden

THE REVIEW

?New Wave Of British Heavy Metal=See Iron Maiden.
With this concise definition, I want to both remind you that the Irons ARE the NWOBHM and also explain the factors that led me to appreciate a unique masterpiece like the debut album of the five.
I was about eight years old when, after temporarily putting aside what was probably a bootleg live ?The Harder They Come?t purchased at an apparently insignificant stall at my local market, I went one afternoon to visit my cousin Antonio, who, at fifteen at the time, was a great enthusiast of the movement that had inflamed Great Britain in the early '80s, thus collecting many records from historic bands such as Venom, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath, Motorhead, which best expressed the ongoing musical revolution.
That hot August afternoon I spent with him in his room listening to a record that had already gotten into his head, so much so that he would even hum it in his sleep. The record was simply called ?Iron Maiden?, a name I had heard but couldn't recall where, when, or why.
As it turned out, the CD was quite to my liking, so much that I managed to persuade good old Tony, who, after innumerable efforts (which I won’t even explain), let me keep the record, with the usual clause of castration should I damage the CD.
Eight years have passed, and that CD is still prominently displayed in my music collection—always available when one wants to relax, momentarily leaving aside the Thrash/Death sounds that make my ears ring all day and traveling back to the '80s for a good half-hour.
The Irons at that time were the originals, not those amiable grandpas who today inflame our ears with the sound of pills for rheumatism and wooden sticks for broken bones while trying to jump during a live performance.
Originals, therefore: Paul DiAnno on vocals, exceptional, warm, and full of feeling, the classic type of person who "believes in it", not on the same vocal level as Dickinson but still truly moving, superbly supported by an instrumental part in top form, the legendary Dave Murray on guitar and his colleague Dennis Stratton on the second six-string, and one of the best rhythm sections (if not the best) of the time, a Clive Burr certainly less technical but absolutely less cold than the good Nicko McBrain and a genius like Steve Harris on bass, the author of almost all the songs in this masterpiece.
Being the record that introduced me for the first time to "heavy" sounds, it still exerts a great fascination on me today, and I even consider it superior to the much-touted ?The Number Of The Beast? two years later.
Yes, every track is something exceptional, from the opener ?Prowler?, full of echoes reminiscent of Kiss, to the furious ?Sanctuary? featuring a superb bass work by the genius Steve Harris, moving on to the meditative ?Remember Tomorrow?, the wild ?Running Free? with some slight punk characteristics, the simply astounding ?Phantom Of The Opera? that inspired Slayer in their ?Metalstorm?, one of my favorite songs, the priestly instrumental ?Transylvania?, which still gives me goosebumps and raises the hairs on my arms, with those double guitars and the simply brilliant riff, the song-pause moment ?Strange World?, the Murray-esque ?Charlotte The Harlot? and the concluding title-track which, with its incessant tupatupa, would predate by a few years the typical structure of Thrash.
Kerry King's favorite band strikes for the first time. Speed and technique (for the time) astounding and uncompromising, lyrics not exactly exceptional but still entertaining, inviting you to run free and enjoy life, a rhythm section that strikes and still inspires today for the perfection of the perfectly fitting sounds and superb guitar works.
I do not think my useless words will ever do justice to this album…