Iron Maiden is currently commemorating five decades of defiant longevity with the Run for Your Lives tour, a typically grandiose production that pays tribute to the band’s formative years by drawing exclusively from the first nine albums in their storied discography, but curiously omitting the eighth. It is, in many ways, a gift to the faithful: a setlist carefully tailored to stir the deepest recesses of nostalgia while showcasing the enduring power of the band’s early work.
The band’s modus operandi for the past twenty years has been to alternate between forward-looking tours that promote new material and retrospective journeys through their own mythology. The global pandemic, however, disrupted this carefully maintained rhythm, forcing the second leg of The Legacy of the Beast tour to be combined with the belated rollout of Senjutsu. Yet despite the logistical complications and the evolving realities of touring life, Iron Maiden has remained remarkably consistent in their vision and execution.
At this point, both casual listeners and the most ardent devotees know precisely what to expect. Iron Maiden’s live performances are nothing if not dependable in their excellence. Nevertheless, this particular tour is marked by a handful of notable departures from tradition, not least of which is the absence of longtime drummer Nicko McBrain, who has been sidelined by the lingering aftereffects of a stroke suffered several years ago. His replacement Simon Dawson assumes a formidable legacy and rises to the occasion with admirable conviction. Additionally, for the first time in the band’s live history, video screens have been introduced in place of the iconic painted backdrops, a change that allows for a more versatile and visually dynamic stage narrative while retaining the theatricality fans have come to expect.
And yet, at its core, Iron Maiden remains what it has always been: a band singularly devoted to the transformative spectacle of live performance. Lineup changes, technological advancements, shifting musical trends, and the inexorable dispersion of the sands of time (wink) have not dulled their vitality. On the contrary, with a setlist of such breadth and potency, Run for Your Lives may well represent the definitive Iron Maiden experience. I did not believe they could surpass the monumental spectacle and crowd-pleasing brilliance of The Legacy of the Beast tour, but against all expectations, they have.
In a welcome break from current touring norms, the general admission area was wide open: no golden circle, no VIP barricades dividing the crowd into tiers of spending power: just one giant, glorious pit. First come, first served (except, of course, for the "First to the Barrier" fan club raffle winners). It felt like a proper heavy metal gathering, where every fan, whether they’d queued for hours or strolled in late, had a shot at being up front. At a time when many major acts slice and monetize the floor into segments, Maiden’s egalitarian setup was both surprising and deeply appreciated. We’ve never seen this arrangement at La Défense Arena, and we’re not likely to see it again anytime soon.
Unfortunately, not all aspects of the experience rise to the occasion. Getting to the stadium is a logistical ordeal, often stretching into hours. For an audience that is, let’s face it, getting older, that kind of treatment tests the limits of patience and endurance. And then there’s the venue’s long-standing Achilles’ heel: the sound.
The acoustics at La Défense Arena have been a known issue since day one: Mick Jagger called it out at the venue’s inaugural concert, and Elton John followed suit years later with an onstage rant. Social media, fan forums, and online reviews regularly echo the same complaint: the sound here is atrocious. It’s not an Iron Maiden problem: it’s a structural one. This is our tenth concert in the venue, having seen everything from The Rolling Stones and Genesis to The Who, Guns N’ Roses, and Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band. And no matter where you sit or stand, the sound is never quite right. In some spots, the echo lags by half a second. It’s a sports venue first, and when it comes to acoustics, it shows.
Thankfully, the band’s performance is nothing short of heroic, and the sonic flaws are quickly overshadowed by the avalanche of timeless anthems. The setlist, which stops just short of the Blaze Bayley era, is sure to satisfy old-school fans. Of course, one can always lament the absence of a personal favorite, but within the concept of this tour, it is as close to perfect as one could reasonably expect. Some staples are non-negotiable, and rightly so. You would have to be particularly joyless not to feel the thrill of " The Trooper," "The Number of the Beast," "Aces High," or "Run to the Hills," nor appreciate the sweeping scope of epics like "Rime of the Ancient Mariner." As ever, "Fear of the Dark" becomes a full-stadium choir, with 40,000 voices singing not only the chorus, but the verses, the riffs, and even the solos. It is an overwhelming sound and an unforgettable sight. And yes, Maiden's famous mascot Eddie appears twice on stage, towering and theatrical, ever-present in the show’s visual storytelling. This show is heavy metal's great communal rite, a massive celebration, and a grand, defiant party. Iron Maiden is 50. Up the Irons.
***DISCLAIMER: I didn't have a photo credential to shoot the show, and I had forgotten the battery for my small point & shoot camera so all pics were taken from the crowd with my smartphone, hence their horrible quality. I've included them anyway to give a sense of what the show looked like***
