Published on Sep 9, 2004
The firing (or resignation, depending on who you talk to) of
Paul Di’Anno was a huge blow to Iron Maiden, who were coming off of
their great
Killers LP. With the exception of AC/DC, no other major
heavy metal band in the early ’80s successfully replaced its lead
singer. Artistically and commercially, the odds were against Iron
Maiden.
Still, there was no other heavy metal singer quite like Bruce
Dickinson. He was theatrical, a fencer and had a set of pipes that
could be powerful enough to strip the finish off of your first
jalopy while sounding melodic. And, despite the few dozen fans who
swear by Di’Anno, Dickinson immediately established his presence
and became the definitive voice of Iron Maiden within the first few
lyrics of “Invaders” from
The Number Of The Beast.
In terms of critical acclaim,
The Number Of The Beast is Iron Maiden’s most successful,
accomplished album. Of course, when it was released in the ’80s,
it, along with Iron Maiden, was panned because of the band’s
theatrical zeal and cartoonish references to Satan (although many
parental and religious groups saw nothing humorous with Iron
Maiden). For those who were willing to dismiss the unfair criticism
leveled against the Irons, they were rewarded with songs that
sounded more like hard rock – or even pop – than demonic heavy
metal (“The Prisoner” and “Run To The Hills”).
Much credit to Iron Maiden’s melodic vein must go to Steve
Harris: unlike other hard rock or metal bassists, such as Flea or
even Geddy Lee, Harris’s playing usually incorporates a great deal
of melody. Adrian Smith and Dave Murray’s guitars were able to
perfectly complement Harris’s wild playing throughout
The Number Of The Beast.
Lyrically, well, I’ll concede, if you’re looking for Satanic
imagery,
The Number Of The Beast is fairly rife enough hellish images
to make a Christian rock fan cower behind a Stryper album. But the
band coyly incorporates these images without endorsing any
particular ideology. For the most part, the band is more concerned
about injustices and the evil that men do (a theme that would be
especially evident in their
Seventh Son Of A Seventh Son LP), such as the plight of the
American Indian in the galloping “Run to the Hills.”
In his hilarious book
Fargo Rock City, Chuck Klosterman said any youth who was
listening to Iron Maiden in the ’80s probably wasn’t getting laid.
Still, that doesn’t stop the band from singing about sex (or the
evils of sex) in “22 Acacia Avenue (the continuing saga of
Charlotte the Harlot)” In the beginning, it sounds like a Poison or
Motley Crue ode to nighttime entertainment: “If you’re feeling down
depressed and lonely / I know a place where we can go / 22 Acacia
Avenue, meet a lady we all know.” You can almost hear the audience
yell “yeah!, let’s go to 22!” But toward the end of the song, it
takes a Taxi Driver-like turn into self-righteous vigilance: “Can’t
you see it’ll lead you to ruin/ Charlotte you’ve taken your life
and you’ve throw it away … You’re packing your bags and
you’re coming with me.”
It’s hard to analyze
The Number Of The Beast without sounding as corny as Kansas
in August. The album is a landmark album, but for reasons I have
yet to grasp. It’s not revolutionary, it isn’t a dramatic departure
from earlier Iron Maiden releases, it’s just a really kick-ass
album. Why did this album get the acclaim while
Peace Of Mind and
Powerslave remained essentially fan favorites? No matter –
the album, to paraphrase Beavis or Butt-Head, “rules.”