Category Archives: Music

A to Z of Making It, Influenced, Music, Unsung Heroes

Jason Flom: The Relentless A&R Rebel Who Shaped the Soundtrack of a Generation

From The Lefsetz podcast.

Jason Flom didn’t just stumble into the music business. he was basically dared into it. His dad, legendary lawyer Joe Flom (yeah, that Joe Flom, the one Malcolm Gladwell wrote a whole damn chapter about in “Outliers”), once told him he had a deal: become a rock star or go to school. Jason was ready to pick the guitar. His mom was ready to murder someone. Guess who won?

So, instead of ending up in a dive bar strumming power chords for PBR money, Flom got shoved into Atlantic Records thanks to some family favors. Sounds easy, right? It wasn’t. Because once you’re in the building, you still have to prove you’re not a poser.

Flom watched the A&R guys and thought, “I can suck less than these dudes with 30% effort.”

So he put in actual effort. Found “Zebra”, a band that nobody at Atlantic gave a crap about, but the people loved. Flom ignored the gatekeepers and went straight to the public. And guess what? The public was right. “Zebra” exploded, Flom got promoted, and boom, the kid was in the game.

Flom tells a story about the making of the album.

Doug Morris had cold feet to fund the “Zebra” album. For it to go ahead, Flom got Jack Douglas to agree to produce. However, Douglas was a mess at the time and was not the same Douglas who did the “Aerosmith” records. They had the Record Plant booked and the band was staying there as well, with Douglas booking studio time on Tuesday and arriving Thursday, meanwhile the bills from the Record Plant to Atlantic are piling up.

The budget for the album was a $130K with Douglas getting $55K of that. Morris was not happy as the record was over budget and no tracks had been delivered. The record was then at $230K spent and it was finally at mixing. Douglas then started to hear whale noises in the album tracks. No one else could hear the noises except Douglas. The manager of the Record Plant came into the studio and fired Douglas from the record as Atlantic Records had given him the news how they had pulled the financing for the album. Douglas goes “give me 10 more minutes to finish the album”. The manager goes “you have 10 minutes”. Douglas then barricaded the door so no one could come in and the record got finished. The record came out and it exploded out of the gate.

Then came “Twisted Sister”. They looked ridiculous. Nobody wanted them. Industry snobs laughed. Flom didn’t. He saw 3,000 kids packed into a venue on a Wednesday night screaming every lyric. He brought it to the bosses, and Doug Morris basically told him if he mentioned “Twisted Sister” one more time, he’d be booted. So Flom did what any stubborn SOB would do, he went around him, got them signed anyway, and helped launch one of the most iconic metal acts of the ’80s.

But success doesn’t mean immunity. Flom eventually got caught in the cocaine-fueled dumpster fire that was the ’80s music scene and ended up in rehab. And yet, even in the fog of recovery, the dude came back swinging, signing “Savatage”, “Ratt”, “White Lion”, “Skid Row” and more.

Fast forward: Flom starts Lava Records in 1995. He fakes it ’til he makes it, literally asking around how to run a label while running the label. He signs “Matchbox Twenty” after seeing them bomb a live show but spotting something special in Rob Thomas. He bets on “Kid Rock” when everyone else thought the guy was a joke. No one at MTV wanted to touch him… until they did — and then “Kid Rock” blew the roof off the damn VMAs with “Aerosmith” and “Run-DMC”.

He picked up “Katy Perry” when Columbia was about to drop her. Signed “Lorde” from a SoundCloud link when she had 200 plays and a Facebook page. Oh, and about “Thirty Seconds to Mars”? Everyone told him it was a Jared Leto vanity project. But when he saw Leto turn down a Clint Eastwood film to stay on tour, Flom thought, “That’s more rock and roll than anything I’ve seen in years.”

Every time someone said no, Flom found a way to make it a hell yes. He wasn’t trying to be the tastemaker, he let the fans decide what was great and then fought like hell to bring that to the masses.

Along the way, he helped launch “Hootie & The Blowfish”, “Jewel”, “Simple Plan”, “The Corrs”, “The Blue Man Group”, “Black Veil Brides”, “Greta Van Fleet”, the list reads like a damn Spotify nostalgia playlist.

In short: Jason Flom didn’t just sign bands, he bet on outcasts, longshots, weirdos, and artists with heart. And yeah, he fumbled, got knocked down, got high (a lot), got sober, and kept swinging. The guy helped shape the soundtrack of millions of people’s lives not by chasing trends but by giving a fuck about what actually mattered passion, authenticity, and good fucking music.

Not bad for a dude who was almost a failed wannabe rock star, right?

His mum, who had no degree or background in education, started a school called “The Gateway School”so her son could go to school. He now has a Ph.D. in Psychometrics, the Psychology of Statistics. The Gateway School is now known as the best school for children with difficulties. Try to do what you want to do and try to make the world a better place.

Twisted Sister story.

Randy from Zebra said to Flom that Twisted Sister is the greatest live band ever. So Flom goes to watch them. Twisted Sister is headlining, and Zebra is opening for them. Flom found this odd as Zebra had a record deal and Twisted Sister didn’t. 3000 kids on a Wednesday night for $6 a head.

He was sold as Doug told him that his opinion is secondary compared to the public’s opinion. He walked into Doug’s office the next day and told him he found the next big act. Morris wasn’t interested because TS was considered a joke in the music business. Flom went back to Morris’s office and every time he did, he was told to get out of the office. The debut album “Under The Blade” on Secret was still selling and they were one of the best attended live acts.

At a A&R meeting designed to get the label back in the Top 10 charts as they had a lean year, Morris even mentioned to Flom that if he mentions the name Twisted Sister again, he will never work for Atlantic again. Shortly after that, Flom saw Phil Carson, who was the head of the English division of Atlantic Records and gave him a wealth of material he had amassed on the band, plus a tape of their Secret album. Carson at that point had been in the game for a while, signing acts like AC/DC and Yes amongst other acts. Carson watched TS perform live and signed them.

As for the folder that Flom gave him, it went straight in the bin as Carson had no idea who this young punk was. But synchronicity and coincidence were in play here as TS was opening for an act that Carson went to watch. Morris could have vetoed the whole project, but he still released “You Can’t Stop Rock N Roll” as a favor to Carson, however there was no marketing budget, however Flom was doing a bit of marketing on the side for the band. The record was selling on fumes as Flom puts it.

Morris then called Flom later to tell him he was right and that Atlantic would make a big thing out of this band. Morris had the vision to use Tom Werman to get Marty Callner to direct the videos. I think Dee had a different version here, however it doesn’t really matter in the end, because the album “Stay Hungry” and the clips, “We’re Not Gonna Take It” and “I Wanna Rock” are iconic.

Flom couldn’t understand why they didn’t want to use Werman again for the next record “Come Out And Play” and not long after that it broke up. Dee goes into it in detail in his book and Mark The Animal Mendoza has mentioned his hatred of Werman in various interviews.

Flom at this stage was a victim of the excess of the times and entered rehab. But before he entered rehab, he signed Savatage.

Flom was also involved in getting Ratt to sign to Atlantic Records in 1983 with “Out Of The Cellar” being the first release on Atlantic for them and also White Lion in 1987 for the “Pride” album however they are not mentioned during the podcast.

Once he got out of rehab, he had some projects that didn’t do much and then he signed Skid Row.

An agent brought him Stone Temple Pilots and he signed them. Other acts included Hootie And The Blowfish and Jewel. He told a story of watching Jewel play at a coffee shop with 5 people watching and the coffee machine making cappuccinos and then a few months later, he was back there with 300 people watching and everyone being mesmerized by her.

In 1995, it all evolved into Lava Records, his own label after he turned down an opportunity to resurrect Atco Records. Flom reckons he was set up to fail. He was asking for advice, faking it until he made it.

He had people out there that were brining him good bands. A rep brought him a band called Tabatha’s Secret and he was given four songs. Flom wasn’t convinced. The rep said to listen to 3am again, and again Flom wasn’t convinced. So he want to watch em, and they were terrible, not even in tune and no one was even paying attention to em, but he felt there was something special about Rob Thomas so he signed them. Hollywood Records offered to triple the offer from Lava, however Thomas stayed to Flom. And the debut Matchbox Twenty album went crazy.

Flom and Thomas debated if the first single should be “Real World” or “Long Day”. They settled on “Long Day” and on the strength of that single, the album moved 100K units. Then a radio station in a different city started to play “Push” and the album started to sell like crazy in that city. Flom went back to the band and said this is your next single and the band said no, they wanted “Real World”, but Flom remembered the words of Doug Morris, “what we think is good is nothing compared to what the public thinks”.

And another rep brought him Kid Rock. Kid Rock had three albums before this and all three failed. He was seen as damaged goods. Flom watched him live and they had a meet. Kid Rock said he will deliver two songs to him. Upon hearing the songs, Flom called Kid Rock and said to him, what do you want, Kid Rock said I want $300K sign on and so many percentage points on royalties. Flom said done.

The soundtrack of a lot of people’s lives was possible because of Jasom Flom.

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A to Z of Making It, Classic Songs to Be Discovered, Music, My Stories

The Case For Ozzmosis

I have an issue of Metal Edge from October 1995.

There is a feature with the headline “Ozzy Osbourne’s Cyber Diary – Life In The Studio”. It goes something like this;

February 28, 1995 – Recording in Paris, France with Zakk Wylde on guitar, Geezer Butler on bass, Deen Castronovo on drums and Michael Beinhorn producing.

March 2, 1995 – “Tomorrow”, “See You On The Other Side” and “Old LA Tonight” have all the rhythms and drums done.

March 3, 1995 – “The Whole Worlds Falling Down” and “Can’t Get Up” are added to the list.

March 6, 1995 – “Fallin’ Up”, “I Just Want You”, “Denial”, “Rasputin” and “Mothers Crying” are added to the list.

March 13, 1995 – “My Little Man” and “Back On Earth” have been tracked. After a Saturday night bender, Zakk was locked out of his room and he punched a hole through the door. The hotel has refused to fix it until Zakk leaves. 4 days later, the hotel declares bankruptcy.

March 20, 1995 – All tracking is complete with the songs “Perry Mason”, “Ghost Behind My Eyes”, “Thunder Underground” and “My Jekyll Doesn’t Hide” being the last and the project moves to New York.

March 31, 1995 – Zakk lays down solos for “Back On Earth”.

April 3, 1995 – Beinhorn makes Ozzy sing “See You On The Other Side” 85 times, before he was happy with one take.

April 6, 1995 – Zakk had finished all guitar parts for the songs and solos for 7 songs. New lyrics are written for “Back On Earth”.

April 10, 1995 – The album title of “Ozzmosis” is finally decided.

April 14, 1995 – Lead vocals are finished for “Tomorrow”, “See You On The Other Side”, “I Just Want You”, “Back On Earth” and “Ghost Behind My Eyes”.

April 17, 1995 – They are working on a new song called “Thunder Underground”, written by Geezer and Zakk before they started the backing tracks in Paris.

April 18, 1995 – Ozzy lays down more vocals for “Ghost Behind My Eyes”.

April 19, 1995 – Ozzy lays down vocals for “Denial”. It takes 7 hours to get the take that Beinhorn is happy with.

April 20, 1995 – Ozzy’s throat is inflamed and is asked by the Doctor to get some rest and not sing for a few weeks.

April 28,1995 – Beinhorn gets the band to come back in and redo “Old LA Tonight” and “Back On Earth” as he wasn’t happy with how they turned out earlier. They also redo “The Whole Worlds Falling Down”.

May 2, 1995 – Zakk is laying down more guitar solos and Rick Wakeman is hired to come out in a few weeks to play keyboards.

May 5, 1995 – Zakk finishes up all of his guitar parts.

May 15, 1995 – Rick Wakeman goes from the airport to the studio and he has two days to do all of his parts.

May 17, 1995 – Ozzy is singing “Thunder Underground”.

May 18, 1995 – Ozzy finishes the vocals for “My Jekyll Can’t Hyde”.

May 19, 1995 – Beinhorn made Ozzy sing another vocal for “See You On The Other Side”.

The album recording process is done. The mixing process is next. The final track listing is also decided and “Back On Earth” at this point in time was part of the album’s 11 tracks.

But.

The story of the album and how it came to be goes back even further.

Let’s rewind.

It’s late 1992. Ozzy Osbourne just wrapped his so-called “No More Tours” farewell run. Diagnosed, wrongly, with multiple sclerosis, he tells the world he’s retiring. Done. Finished. Hanging up the mic.

Yeah, right.

Turns out, retirement sucks. Especially when madness is your brand.

Between 1992 and 1995, Ozzy quietly laid the groundwork for what would become “Ozzmosis”. It wasn’t a straight line. It was messy. Chaotic. Weirdly brilliant. He demoed dozens of tracks with a rotating cast of rock royalty. Most of it never officially saw daylight.

Early sessions in a London studio produced what fans now call the “Ozzmosis Demos”, a bootleg CD loaded with unreleased cuts:

1. Feels So Good to Be Bad
2. Denial
3. Too Far Gone
4. Ghost Behind My Eyes
5. Frustrated Yes I’m Hated
6. Dream for Tomorrow
7. Say Yeah Yeah
8. Oh No the Bitch Won’t Go
9. My New Rock and Roll
10. Perry Mason
11. Old L.A. Tonight
12. See You on the Other Side

Five of these tracks, “Perry Mason,” “Old L.A. Tonight,” “Denial,” “Ghost Behind My Eyes,” and “See You on the Other Side”, made it to the official album. The rest? Still lurking in the shadows.

Ozzy collaborated at first with Zakk Wylde. The songs “Perry Mason”, “See You On The Other Side, “Tomorrow”, “Aimee”, “Living With The Enemy” and “Old LA Tonight” are products of these sessions. 

Then came Steve Dudas, Mark Hudson, and even Lemmy Kilmister, who probably wrote more than he ever got credit for.

“Denial” and “Ghost Behind My Eyes” = Ozzy, Hudson, Dudas.

“Feels So Good to Be Bad” = Bluesy glam rock, think T-Rex. Writer unknown.

“Frustrated Yes I’m Hated” = Sabbath-ish, standard E tuning.

“Dream for Tomorrow” = Beatles vibes.

“Oh No the Bitch Won’t Go” = Beach Boys meets Ozzy in a bar fight.

“My New Rock and Roll” = Pure psych trip.

“Say Yeah Yeah” = Tries to be dark, ends up karaoke catchy.

Who wrote what? Hard to say. Fans point fingers at Hudson and Dudas. Dudas likely played guitar, too.

Among the many ghosts of the “Ozzmosis” era, a handful of tracks remain shrouded in mystery: “Fallin’ Up,” “Can’t Get Up,” “Rasputin,” and “Mother’s Crying”.

Whispers in fan circles credit Steve Dudas and Mark Hudson as the writers. But here’s where it gets weird, rumor has it these songs were part of a bigger vision: a full-blown theatrical rock opera called “Rasputin”.

Yep. Ozzy. On stage. In a play.

But the curtains never rose. The project was quietly killed, and instead, “Ozzfest” was born, a louder, messier, more Ozzy version of theater.

The songs?

Shelved. Forgotten. Still sitting in a vault somewhere, waiting for their moment… or maybe waiting to be lost forever.

Producers came and went, Duane Baron and John Purdell started it off, then got replaced by Michael Wagener, who got bumped by Michael Beinhorn. It was a revolving door of creative chaos.

Then came “The Lost Vai” Album, cue mythological music.

Steve Vai came onboard for a full-blown project called “X-Ray”. Only one track, “My Little Man,” survived (Lemmy wrote the lyrics, uncredited).

According to Bob Daisley in his book:

“It wasn’t working. Instead of just being honest with Vai, Sharon told him Sony pulled the plug. Total BS. It was just a move to ditch him quietly. We all saw through it.”

Vai was out. Zakk was back. Daisley got ghosted. Geezer Butler showed up. Business as usual.

Then came the outside hires:

Jack Blades & Tommy Shaw wrote “Voodoo Dancer” and “The Whole World’s Falling Down”.

Taylor Rhodes and Richard Supa wrote “Back On Earth”.

Jim Vallance wrote “Walk on Water,” and “I Just Want You.

Geezer & Zakk wrote “Thunder Underground” and “My Jekyll Doesn’t Hide”.

By early ’95, Ozzy’s misdiagnosis was corrected. He was sober. Still dark, but sharp. Creative. Driven. He wasn’t chasing success, he was clawing back himself.

So when you hear Ozzmosis, remember this:

It’s not just an album.

It’s a resurrection.

Built from fragments.

Forged in chaos.

Sung by a man who couldn’t stop, even when he tried.

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Influenced, Music

Coheed and Cambria – Vaxis III: The Father of Make Believe

Released March 14, 2025.

The third act of the Vaxis saga and Coheed’s eleventh album, “The Father of Make Believe” dives deeper into “The Amory Wars” mythos, but this time, the most intense battles might be internal. Beneath the sci-fi architecture lies a deeply human narrative: loss, identity, illusion, and the relationships that either save us or undo us.

“Yesterday’s Lost”

The album opens with a whisper of heartbreak:

“But should you go before me, I’ll be right behind you.”

It’s not just romance, it’s loyalty shadowed by death. In the narrative, this is Nostrand’s vow to Nia, but it doubles as Claudio’s meditation on mortality and family. A quiet promise that love doesn’t end with life.

“Goodbye, Sunshine”

“I won’t stay mad; we played our parts.”

This is closure without bitterness. A eulogy for what once was, not clung to, not blamed, just released. The band turns loss into liberation.

“Searching for Tomorrow”

“You dance between the true and false / To salvage something, but you learn that you lost it all.”

Musically reminiscent of “In Keeping Secrets Of Silent Earth”, this track explores the illusions we create to survive, until reality breaks through. It’s the sound of waking up too late, discovering solitude was always your only constant.

“The Father of Make Believe”

A masterclass in accessible prog, complex in arrangement, yet melodically inviting.

“I’m the vision that you choose to see… I’m the Father of Make Believe.”

Here, myth and memory blur. The titular Father isn’t a man, he’s an archetype, shaped by need. A projection born from longing, trauma, or manipulation.

He could be Vaxis’s absent savior, a stand-in for authority, or a coping mechanism. He isn’t real, but he’s believed in. That’s what gives him power.

“Meri of Mercy”

A love song in elegy’s clothing.

“When all goes dark / And I can’t see / All my memories lost / I’ll know you’re always with me.”

Meri may be Vaxis’s last tether to clarity, a symbol of what’s worth holding onto when identity disintegrates. This track reclaims connection as sacred in a world built on illusion.

“Blind Side Sonny”

Pop-rock melodies meet gritty distortion, a wolf in candy coating.

This track channels the fury through mob-chant catharsis. Not about justice. About revenge.

“Play the Poet”

“Different language, the words you can’t seem to say…”

This song captures the tragedy of miscommunication, the loop of trying, failing, and eventually giving up.

The poet becomes a performer yelling into a void.

Within the Vaxis story, it may reflect Vaxis losing someone to ideology or despair.

Words fail. The silence wins.

“One Last Miracle”

“A fortune sold on television / Where our truth’s coming from, so damaged beyond recognition.”

A searing critique of media, faith, and false salvation. Hope has been commodified. Truth is no longer broken, it’s unrecognizable. The line between belief and delusion collapses. Still, people keep buying miracles.

“Corner My Confidence”

“You stole the sun / Caught in the flare, we were amateurs…”

This one aches with the pain of failed revolution or broken love. The speaker doesn’t give up, they corner their confidence.

This could be the turning point for Vaxis: forging strength from scars and aligning with those who still believe.

A quiet rebellion begins.

“Someone Who Can”

A shimmering, nostalgic feel, Don Henley vibes via post-apocalyptic heartbreak.

“When the lines of the road vanish in your tracks…”

Abandonment is no longer dramatic, it’s quiet, total. And yet, out of that emptiness comes a demand: for light, for love, for fire. This is rebirth through ruin.

“The Continuum I: Welcome to Forever, Mr. Nobody”

“I plead / Is it so hard to see / A better version of me?”

Shame and stagnation tighten like a noose. The protagonist isn’t begging for forgiveness, just to be seen as more than their past.

In the Vaxis arc, this may be the psychological low point: identity in crisis, hope a fading memory.

“The Continuum II: The Flood”

“Where I once loved / Now pumps cold blood…”

This is post-emotion. Where once was fire, now there’s frost. The flood has wiped the slate, or tried to. A survival mechanism turned into exile from feeling.

“The Continuum III: Tethered Together”

“We’ll all sing together / Tethered forever…”

The emotional payoff. After trauma and betrayal, comes harmony, not as fantasy, but as chosen solidarity. This could be the rebel choir. The fractured finally uniting. It’s the album’s true heartbeat.

“The Continuum IV: So It Goes”

“Please, somebody open this lock / My mind is breaking apart…”

The final collapse, or the final confession. The speaker begs for release from the cage of their own mind. Whether this is Vaxis or someone else, it’s a moment where the veil between internal and external horror is paper-thin.

We’re left not with closure, but a question:

Can the light escape the dark?

“Vaxis III” is more than a concept album. It’s a study in duality, illusion vs reality, connection vs fracture, myth vs memory. And while it expands the “Amory Wars” universe, it also holds a mirror to our own: asking how we survive when the truths we built our lives on collapse.

It’s not just a story, it’s a reckoning.

P.S.

I initially held off on writing this review, hoping to dive deeper once the deluxe edition arrived, particularly to expand on the narrative elements through the included story materials. But after several delays, I decided the album itself deserved its own reflection. The review is, shaped by the lyrics, the music, and the emotional arc they deliver to me on their own terms.

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Music, My Stories

Live Review: Monolith Festival – Hordern Pavilion, Sydney

Featuring: Leprous, Periphery, Coheed and Cambria

Date: 10 November 2024

I’ve had this post for a while in various drafts and thought it was time to finish it.

The “Monolith Festival” returned to Sydney with a stacked progressive lineup and a reputation for delivering complexity, emotion, and sheer sonic weight.

Held at the iconic Hordern Pavilion, the festival promised more than just performances, it offered artist workshops, communal spaces, and a cultural showcase for fans of progressive rock and metal. But as these things go, time got away from me.

Unfortunately, I missed the first two acts and all of the artist workshops, an all-too-common casualty of Sydney traffic and the general logistics of festival life.

That said, there was still plenty to take in outside the main stage. Within the fenced-off, ticket-holder-only zone, a decent selection of food trucks (Woodfire Pizza and Turkish Gozleme) offered solid sustenance, while the Byron Bay Brewery bar kept spirits high.

Traditional venue options inside were also available, but the atmosphere outside had that kind of low-key camaraderie that festivals like this are great at cultivating.

Leprous

My first time seeing Leprous live.

They landed on my radar thanks to a Spotify algorithm about eight years ago, and since then, they’ve remained a steady presence in my playlists. “The Congregation” (2015) is still my go-to from their discography; cold, mathematical, yet deeply emotive.

Onstage, Leprous radiated a quiet confidence. The Norwegian five-piece walked the tightrope between technical precision and atmospheric build, and for a band that thrives on restraint, they commanded the stage without excess.

Frontman Einar Solberg’s falsetto soared through the room with eerie control, making converts out of any first-timers.

Songs like “The Price” and “Slave” unfolded like emotional equations, each section calculated but still cutting deep. Their set was perhaps the most introspective of the night, and it worked.

Periphery

Cue chaos.

Pop music blares over the speakers until it’s suddenly cut off by the outro to “Crush.”

That abrupt tonal shift was the perfect entry into Periphery’s calculated aggression.

The band launched into “Wildfire,” a spiraling, multi-sectioned assault from their latest album “Periphery V: Djent Is Not A Genre” (2023).

Phones lit the air like tiny lighthouses, struggling to anchor anyone in the seas of down-tuned guitars, polyrhythms, and seizure-inducing strobes.

Aussie drummer David Parkes filled in admirably for Matt Halpern, who stayed home for the birth of his second child. Parkes handled the intricate time signatures and unpredictable shifts with mechanical precision.

The setlist leaned heavily on “P:V”, with highlights like “Atropos”, a personal favorite, offering moments of clarity amidst the chaos. That track’s clean sections created a stark contrast that only made the heavy parts hit harder.

“Reptile,” a 16-minute behemoth from “Periphery IV: Hail Stan”(2019), raised some eyebrows. In a short set window, it was a bold move, equal parts indulgent and impressive. But if you were there for the musicianship, it was a masterclass.

They closed with crowd-pleasers “Marigold” and “Blood Eagle,” with the latter turning the pit into a blur of limbs and hair.

From the last time I saw them at The Annandale Hotel in 2013, the band has evolved. The absence of bassist Nolly Getgood (who stepped away in 2017) hasn’t dulled their low end, but it has reshaped the balance. They’re leaner now—five members, three guitars, all in.

Coheed and Cambria

A concept band doing a concept album at a concept festival. Perfect match.

Coheed delivered “Good Apollo, I’m Burning Star IV, Volume One: From Fear Through the Eyes of Madness” (2005) in full. No cut corners, no medleys. Just front-to-back storytelling, as dense and labyrinthine as their discography demands.

There’s something almost theatrical about Claudio Sanchez’s vocals, part prog-opera, part comic book epic. Whether it was the haunting “Ten Speed (Of God’s Blood and Burial)” or the melancholic “Wake Up,” the band navigated the album’s twists with unwavering energy.

“The Willing Well” suite; four interlinked songs running over 20 minutes total; was ambitious and, frankly, kind of mesmerizing.

But let’s be honest: “Welcome Home” was the showstopper.

That intro riff?

Unstoppable.

The crowd knew it, and the band leaned into the moment like it was their final form.

After the main set, Coheed returned with a two-song encore: the pop-punk tinted “A Favor House Atlantic” and the anthemic “In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3.”

Everyone screamed the final chorus like they were shouting back at their teenage selves.

Final Thoughts

I didn’t catch everything, but what I did see was worth the trip. Each band brought a different flavour of “monolithic”; Leprous with their glacial precision, Periphery with their controlled chaos, and Coheed with their galactic storytelling.

Monolith Festival isn’t just about music, it’s about endurance, narrative, and the sublime power of sound pushed to its technical limits.

Would I go again? In a heartbeat.

But next time… I’m arriving early. And I’m not missing those damn workshops.

\::/

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Classic Songs to Be Discovered, Influenced, Music, My Stories, Unsung Heroes

Machine Head’s ‘Unatoned’ Is a 41-Minute Punch in the Soul – Brutally Honest Review (Track-by-Track)

Machine Head’s eleventh studio album, “Unatoned”, released on April 25, 2025, through Nuclear Blast and Imperium Recordings, marks a significant evolution in the band’s discography.

Clocking in at 41 minutes, it’s their shortest album to date.

Landscape of Thorns

A 31-second instrumental opener that is like walking into a post-apocalyptic cathedral made of rust and bad decisions. No lyrics, just vibe.

The vibe?

You’re screwed.

Atomic Revelations

You know that moment when you realize humanity might’ve peaked with sliced bread and everything since is just radioactive garbage?

Yeah, that’s this song.

“Atomic revelations / These cryptic devastations…”

In other words, the future’s here, and it’s wearing a hazmat suit. Think less “technological utopia” and more “Oops, all fallout.”

It’s a poetic bitch slap to our blind optimism. A warning, framing the future not as a bright evolution but as a terrifying construct built from our short-sighted and immoral decisions.

Unbound

This is the sonic equivalent of breaking out of a mental straitjacket while screaming into a hurricane.

Lead single for a reason, it’s the sound of someone clawing their way to freedom, with bloody nails and existential panic.

It’s not about being free. It’s about realizing you’ve been your own prison warden the whole damn time.

Outsider

A love letter to being done. Betrayal, bitterness, burn-it-to-the-ground energy.

All the lying, all the cheating
All you left me was defeated
There could never be forgiveness in the end

No redemption arc. Just someone standing over the wreckage of trust and lighting a cigarette off the flames.

It’s beautiful.

In the way that watching your ex trip over karma is beautiful.

Not Long for This World

Here’s your death anxiety, set to music. Haunting, lyrical, and bleakly gorgeous. The kind of track that makes you text your therapist and also maybe your mom.

Through the struggles life hurls
Behold the heavens unfurl
Not long for this world

You’re gonna die. Everyone you love will die. And this track whispers: “Yup. And?” It’s oddly comforting, like being hugged by a ghost.

These Scars Won’t Define Us

A motivational anthem for people who’ve seen some serious crap and didn’t get a cheesy Instagram quote tattoo about it.

Head to the grindstone, power forward through the endless dark
Focus, determination, on this world I’ll leave a mark
It took so long for any confidence to get in here
And now the question that I need to know, I cannot hear

It’s not saying “you’re special.” It’s saying “you survived, now do something with it.” Less “self-love,” more “self-discipline.”

Dustmaker

“Dustmaker” is a little musical intermission.

A breather.

Kind of. It’s the metal equivalent of a weird dream sequence in a war movie. You’re not dying yet, but your brain’s doing weird crap.

Sip some water. You’ll need it.

Bonescraper

It’s a head banger with themes of self-destruction and a side of guilt.

We scrape our bones to numb the pain

If you’ve ever tried to drink your problems away, punch your trauma into silence, or sleep with someone just to feel something, this one’s your anthem. Congrats, you’re the problem and the solution.

Addicted to Pain

This one goes out to everyone who keeps dancing with the same demons and calling it “growth.” Spoiler: it’s not.

We’ll never know what could’ve been
Cravings pulled you deep within
Thrown into the hit machine
Feed the beast, start the routine
You gave it all just to chase this flame
The dotted line, a puppet in the game now
Twisted and cheating
The fame we chase is bleating
Turned against brother for acclaim that is fleeting

The fame-chasing, dopamine-looping, clout-sucking treadmill of modern life, and how it turns people into hollowed-out achievement junkies.

No wonder you’re tired.

Bleeding Me Dry

This one’s a gut-punch, a slow-motion collapse of a relationship that started with dreams and ended with pill bottles and silence.

There’s no pain without living life
This liquor helps cope with the strife
We talked of you being my wife
Picket fences, some kids, and two bikes
But all that was a fantasy lost in our haze
Through all of the weed smoke and piles of cocaine
A pharmacy of Vicodin, Percs, refillers
You and I were worst friend’s best painkillers

Jesus.

That line alone deserves a Pulitzer in “Emotional Damage”.

It’s not a love song, it’s a eulogy for what could’ve been. And it hurts because it’s true.

They’re not lovers, not saviors, just each other’s favorite painkillers in a life too painful to face sober.

Shards of Shattered Dreams

More heartbreak. More poetic destruction. Think of it like picking glitter out of a crime scene.

It’s raining
Shards of shattered dreams
This love divine
Ruins everything
Left to pick up the pieces
Of my dejected heart
I’m breaking and I’m ripping at the seams
These shards of shattered dreams

When hope becomes a weapon. When dreams cut deeper than knives. This one will haunt you at 3 a.m., probably while scrolling through old texts you should’ve deleted.

Scorn

The final exhale.

Closing the album, “Scorn” is a haunting ballad that delves into themes of manipulation and societal decay, featuring piano-driven melodies that contrast its dark lyrical content.

The music says “reflection,” but the lyrics say “everything’s broken.”

The Wrap Up

It’s short, sharp, and swinging a sledgehammer. Less an album, more a therapy session set to blast beats. It’s a bleak, beautiful middle finger to false hope and a mosh pit for your emotional baggage. If you’re looking for easy answers, you’re in the wrong pit, buddy.

Joining Robb Flynn and Jared MacEachern is drummer Matt Alston and guitarist Reece Scruggs, injecting fresh energy into their sound, making “Unatoned” a noteworthy entry in their discography.

Final Score:
5 existential crises out of 5.

Now go scream into the void or your pillow, whichever’s closer.

\::/

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Influenced, Music, My Stories

Is Metal in Crisis?

The idea that metal is in crisis, whether due to oversaturation, a lack of originality, or changing audience engagement, seems to be a recurring sentiment among older generations of fans.

But is metal truly in decline, or is this perspective more a symptom of aging, nostalgia, and shifts in how we consume music?

The Age Factor: Fatigue vs. Fresh Ears

A young listener coming into metal today wouldn’t think the genre is in crisis. If anything, they’re encountering a landscape full of new music, endless subgenres, and countless bands to discover. They don’t have the same point of reference as someone who grew up when there were fewer metal bands, more gatekeeping, and a greater emphasis on full-album experiences.

For older fans, like me, there’s often a sense of fatigue. Over decades of listening, many metalheads feel me like we’ve “heard it all before.”

Riffs, song structures, and production styles that once felt groundbreaking might now seem derivative. This isn’t necessarily because metal has gotten worse, rather, it’s a byproduct of familiarity. The more you consume, the harder it is to be surprised.

But each new wave of fans is excited about something that may seem repetitive or uninspired to those who have already lived through multiple cycles of innovation.

I had to actively seek out metal, often through record stores, tape trading, and word of mouth. This process required time, effort, and sometimes even risk, buying an album based on cover art alone, waiting weeks for an import to arrive, or discovering new bands through underground zines.

That level of commitment created a deep connection between listener and music. There was an emotional investment in the experience. When you spent your hard-earned money on a single album, you had to give it multiple listens, even if you weren’t hooked right away. That patience often led to a greater appreciation for the depth of the music.

Compare that to today’s streaming era, where music is instantly accessible. While this allows anyone to explore niche genres with minimal effort, it’s also led to an endless sea of content.

Listeners can skip tracks within seconds, constantly moving on to something new without letting an album sink in. This convenience fosters a different kind of relationship with music, one that can feel less “earned” to those who grew up under the old system.

For an older fan, it can seem like metal has lost its soul, not necessarily because the music is worse, but because the ritual of discovery has changed.

Oversaturation vs. Opportunity

There’s no denying that metal, like all genres, is more saturated than ever. Advances in technology mean that anyone with a laptop can record and distribute music, leading to an overwhelming volume of releases.

But is that really a bad thing?

For young listeners, this means more diversity, more experimentation, and more ways to find exactly what speaks to them.

While an older fan might lament that there are “too many bands that sound the same,” a younger fan may see an ecosystem where they can explore an endless array of niche styles.

It’s also worth noting that every generation has had complaints about oversaturation.

In the late ‘80s, thrash metal had so many similar bands that many critics claimed the genre was becoming stagnant. The same was said about hard rock towards the end on the 80s/start of 90s, death metal in the early ‘90s, metalcore in the 2000s, and djent in the 2010s. Yet metal has always found ways to reinvent itself.

The Role of Nostalgia in Perceived Decline

It’s human nature to view the past as a golden era. This is particularly true in music, where people tend to romanticize the bands they grew up with. Metal fans who came of age in the ‘80s often see that as the peak, just as those who started in the ‘90s might champion that era, and so on.

However, if you ask a 16-year-old today, they might argue that metal has never been stronger. They’re discovering bands without any baggage, without comparisons to the past, and without the weight of decades of listening experience making them jaded.

What might seem “unoriginal” to an older listener could feel fresh and exciting to them.

Similarly, the tendency to view the past as superior is amplified by the way we remember things. The weak or generic bands of the ‘80s and ‘90s have largely been forgotten, while the legends remain in cultural memory. If you judge the current scene by its mediocre bands while remembering the past only through its icons, of course it will seem like metal has declined.

The perception that metal is struggling isn’t new, it’s been a conversation since at least the late ‘80s. But in reality, metal isn’t in crisis; it’s simply evolving in ways that can be harder for long-time fans to appreciate.

Young listeners today don’t think metal is dead because they aren’t burdened by nostalgia or fatigue. To them, the sheer abundance of music is an opportunity, not a problem. The old model of discovery, where commitment was required, has been replaced by one of limitless accessibility, and while that changes the experience, it doesn’t necessarily make it worse.

Ultimately, metal will continue to thrive as long as there are new generations of fans who are excited by it. The real crisis isn’t in the music itself, it’s in whether long-time fans can adapt their perspective and find new ways to engage with the genre.

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Classic Songs to Be Discovered, Influenced, Music

Scorn – Machine Head

Dom Lawson, in Metal Hammer, called it “ostensibly a dark, crestfallen ballad” that builds through synth-drenched haze and emotional swells before erupting in a syncopated, spine-tingling finale.

He’s not wrong.

In fact, “Scorn” might be the most hauntingly beautiful track Robb Flynn has ever penned.

Machine Head is no stranger to monumental album closers, think “The Burning Red,” “Descend the Shades of Night,” “A Farewell to Arms,” “Who We Are,” or “Arrows in Words from the Sky.”

Now, add “Scorn” to that list, lifted from their new record “Unatoned” a fitting name for what feels like both an indictment and a lament.

The opening verse says it all:

“I’m putting you under my spell / ‘Cause I’ve got a Bible to sell
Let go your convictions, restrictions will cost you / Your fiction and all that is well
Distrust all the fable they sell…”

This isn’t subtle. It’s manipulation disguised as salvation. The “Bible to sell” is a loaded metaphor, suggesting the commodification of belief, the weaponization of faith. Convictions and moral boundaries are liabilities here, illusions sold to the weak, while the puppeteers profit.

“I look to the sky / As it won’t be the first / And it won’t be the worst
‘Cause there’s still yet to come / With a nation undone by their Scorn”

Hope?

Maybe.

But not without cynicism. The sky becomes a metaphorical void, once a symbol of transcendence, now indifferent or complicit. The “nation undone” is a clear nod to societal collapse, a warning about the corrosion eating away at public trust, autonomy, and truth.

The chorus drives the point home with venom:

“Scorn / Paranoia seeps through every pore
Scorn / Envenomated eyes emit their scorn”

Yes, “envenomated.”

A rare, brutal word choice. It means poisoned. But more than that, it implies a kind of psychological venom, gazes that don’t just judge but infect. Surveillance becomes psychotropic. The “eyes” don’t just watch; they erode.

“The eye in the sky never rests
Watching to form our arrest
They’re chasing us out of our nests
Keeping tabs as they play us like masters of chess…”

There’s Orwell here, but also something more, this is modern paranoia woven through algorithmic control, deep-state tactics, and manufactured chaos. The image of being driven from nests evokes exile from comfort, from truth, from home.

“I look to the sky / As they give us new rifles / To stifle our words
With a Bible and bulletproof vests / As we suffer their Scorn…”

Weaponized religion. Militarized faith. Truth gets smothered in the name of protection. Resistance becomes treason. Free thought becomes a target.

Thematically, “Scorn” stands shoulder-to-shoulder with:

– Rage Against the Machine’s political fire
– Pink Floyd’s “The Wall” and its suffocating institutional critique
– Dylan’s “Highway 61 Revisited”, where biblical imagery twists through cultural critique
– Metallica’s “…And Justice for All”, where justice is just another rigged game

But “Scorn” isn’t derivative, it’s a culmination. It distills our present-day fears: media manipulation, mass surveillance, the erosion of belief systems, and a creeping spiritual void. It’s a bitter elegy dressed as an anthem.

You don’t just listen to “Scorn”. You endure it, absorb it, and then see the world a little more clearly and perhaps a little more grimly.

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A to Z of Making It, Influenced, Music

Joel Hoekstra on The Jay Jay French Connection Podcast (Sept 19, 2023)

Steve Lukather has nothing but the highest praise for Hoekstra, and it’s easy to see why.

Born in Iowa City, Joel moved to Chicago as a kid, then later spent time in L.A., working at Cherokee Studios in 1991 and 1992. By that time, legendary producers Tom Werman and Geoff Workman had already moved on, but their legacy lingered.

Hoekstra studied at the Musicians Institute (GIT) in L.A., though he had a head start, his local teacher had already introduced him to the curriculum before he even arrived. On day one, he found himself among 500 other guitarists in the main hall, an intimidating experience.

Growing up with classically trained parents, he learned to read music early on, though he admits it’s only occasionally useful in his current work. It did, however, come in handy when he landed “Rock of Ages” and other theater gigs.

Unlike many of his peers, the ’80s shred scene didn’t have a huge impact on him, he was too young for it to be a major influence.

He did, however, run in circles with some serious musicians, including drummer Scott Coogan, guitarist Pete Thorn (well-known for gear demos), and Joy Basou (who found success in pop music, working with artists like Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey).

When asked about his guitar heroes, Hoekstra named Steve Morse (High Tension Wires), Steve Vai (Passion and Warfare), and Joe Satriani (Flying in a Blue Dream, Surfing With the Alien).

While Eric Clapton wasn’t a big influence, he admired Jimmy Page for his rhythmic licks, Jeff Beck for, well, everything, and Jimi Hendrix for his showmanship. He also loved everything “Rush” did, as well as Trevor Rabin’s “Yes” era, he still follows Rabin’s work, including his latest album “Rio”.

Jay Jay French mentioned for his generation, Johnny Winter and Alvin Lee were the Yngwie Malmsteens of their time.

Over the years, Hoekstra transitioned from playing Floyd Rose-equipped Jacksons and Kramers to a Fender Telecaster, then a Gibson SG, before settling on a Gibson Les Paul in 2004. He admitted that while playing a Les Paul means sacrificing about 10% of your technique, each note is worth it. Initially, he avoided Les Pauls because he’d heard they had tuning issues.

As a solo artist, Hoekstra has released three instrumental albums covering various styles. However, when he shifted into hard rock and heavy metal, fans wanted more of that sound.

Instead of branding it as a solo project, he launched “Joel Hoekstra’s 13”, where he writes all the music and lyrics while bringing in powerhouse rock musicians to jam with him. At the time of the interview he was onto his third release with “JH13”, along with “Eagle Flight” from Revolution Saints.

Speaking of collaborations, Hoekstra has another project called “Iconic”, featuring Michael Sweet (guitar), Marco Mendoza (bass), Tommy Aldridge (drums), and Nathan James (vocals). At the time of the interview, new releases from Iconic and Revolution Saints are on the way.

Since then, Revolution Saints dropped “Against The Winds” in 2024 however Iconic hasn’t been released yet.

As for Whitesnake, the future remains uncertain. Everything depends on David Coverdale, with the band currently in a holding pattern. Their European tour had a few canceled dates, and the U.S. tour was ultimately called off due to Coverdale’s sinus infection.

If you like to hear a good story, check out Joel Hoekstra.

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A to Z of Making It, Music, My Stories

Is Rock Really Dead? Let’s Talk About It.

So, my Release Day playlist on Spotify one week was packed with tracks like “Who Said Rock N Roll Is Dead” by Crazy Lixx, “Rock N Roll Survivors” by Bonfire, and “Gods Of Rock N Roll” by Billy Morrison, Ozzy Osbourne, and Steve Stevens.

Then the next week it had “Rock And Roll Party Cowboy” from The Darkness. And my train of thought moves to “Rock And Roll Deserves To Die”, one of my favorite songs from em.

Naturally, it got me thinking about the ever-recurring debate:

Is rock actually dead?

Lenny Kravitz released a song titled “Rock and Roll Is Dead” on his 1995 album “Circus”, a cynical take on the state of rock music at the time.

Marilyn Manson, has a song “Rock Is Dead” from the 1998 album “Mechanical Animals” which is critical of the commercialization and his perceived decline of rock’s rebellious spirit.

L.A. Guns released a song titled “Rock and Roll Is Dead” on their 2005 album “Tales from the Strip”, about the genre’s struggles in the modern era.

Even The Doors’ had a track “Rock Is Dead” (recorded in 1969, released posthumously).

Gene Simmons is the guy most often quoted on this. In a 2022 statement, he told “Metal Hammer”, “I stand by my words, rock is dead and the fans killed it,” blaming file-sharing and the decline of record industry support for new rock talent. He also elaborated on this in a 2014 “Esquire” interview, pointing to the lack of new iconic bands since the Beatles era and the economic challenges for emerging artists.

However plenty of legacy artists share a similar sentiment.

Jay Jay French fromTwisted Sister had made a few forays into this. You can read his latest here.

He makes a good argument about rock’s decline in cultural relevance, essentially claiming that rock is “dead” because it no longer produces massive young stars like it did in the late ’60s and ’70s.

He also points out that rock doesn’t define youth identity in the way hip-hop, pop, and country do today. It’s a compelling argument, but it’s not the full picture.

So where does Jay Jay have a point.

Rock isn’t the dominant force in youth culture anymore. Streaming, social media, and internet-driven virality have helped hip-hop and pop thrive while rock has struggled to keep up.

Since exact weekly numbers aren’t available, I’ll estimate based on monthly listener counts and annual streams, dividing by 52 for a rough weekly average, adjusted for current trends.

The top 50 metal and rock artists generate 70-100M weekly streams. This is a fraction of the broader streaming landscape, where total weekly streams across all genres exceed 4-5 billion (based on Spotify’s 2023 global totals of 200B+ annual streams).

Pop/Hip-Hop genres account for 50-60% of streams. Their top 50 artists alone could hit 400-500M weekly, 4-5x higher than metal/rock.

Metal and rock, despite passionate fanbases, remain a smaller player in the streaming game, punching above their weight culturally but not numerically.

The days of four kids in a garage forming a band and becoming icons by 25 is way harder to pull off now. Labels and streaming platforms push polished, solo acts over traditional bands.

Just like jazz and big band had their golden eras before becoming niche genres, rock’s mainstream heyday as a youth movement may simply be over.

So where does Jay Jay’s argument fall short?

Sure, rock isn’t a monoculture anymore, but it’s alive and well in subgenres like metal, indie, punk, and prog. Just because it’s not topping the Billboard Hot 100 doesn’t mean it’s dead.

Even in those subgenres, there are further subgenres and even more splintering.

In Latin America, Japan, and Scandinavia, rock and metal are huge. Just because the major markets aren’t as tuned in doesn’t mean the genre is extinct.

Back in the day, you were either a rock and metal fan or a hip-hop fan.

Now?

A single playlist might have Metallica, Bon Jovi, Kendrick Lamar, Whitesnake, Shinedown, Taylor Swift, and Bring Me The Horizon. Genre loyalty is weaker than ever.

As much as the internet was meant to level the playing field and remove the gatekeepers, streaming algorithms and major labels still push what’s easy to market.

Rock isn’t dying; it’s just not the industry’s priority.

French isn’t wrong. Rock doesn’t dominate pop culture like it used to, and we’re unlikely to see another Beatles-level rock phenomenon.

But calling it “dead” is an oversimplification.

The genre is evolving, diversifying, and thriving in different ways. It might never reclaim its past mainstream dominance, but it’s far from irrelevant.

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Music, My Stories

Iron Maiden – Live At Qudos Bank Arena, Sydney – 13 September 2024

A proud moment.

2016: My son’s first Iron Maiden concert, “The Book of Souls” tour.

2024: Eight years later, here we are again for “The Days of Future Past” tour.

Of course, we had to buy some merch, again.

And, of course, I had to buy some beers for myself and this time I had the older two riding shotgun. Naturally, this led to the classic “Are you buying alcohol for underage kids?” interrogation.

“Yes, officer, I like to live on the edge, by getting kicked out of an Iron Maiden show before it even starts.”

And let’s not forget the food situation. Kids are always hungry, and I just love paying hundreds of dollars for substandard, borderline offensive stadium meals. But hey, who cares? We weren’t there for the cuisine.

We were there for Maiden.

Iron Maiden’s opening bands don’t get much love in Australia. I remember “Behind Crimson Eyes” getting brutally booed at the “Caught Somewhere Back in Time”Sydney show. But to their credit, they powered through, then covered “Ace of Spades” and just like that, the crowd that wanted them gone was suddenly on their side.

This time, we had Killswitch Engage. Thanks to a heroic battle with traffic and then another war at the merch stalls, I only caught the second half of their set. From what I saw, they were tight, and the crowd gave them a solid response. But everyone was here for one reason.

The ritual begins:

“Doctor Doctor” plays.

The lights go out.

Vangelis’ “Blade Runner” end title starts.

And then—“Caught Somewhere in Time” kicks in.

“Caught Somewhere in Time”

Great opener, but they should’ve played the intro before hitting the fast riff.

Then again, they do the same thing with “Aces High,” so I should’ve seen it coming.

“Stranger in a Strange Land”

A personal favorite. Adrian Smith’s solo is one of those “song within a song” moments. Magic.

“The Writing on the Wall”

Another Adrian masterpiece solo, reminiscent of “Stranger In A Strange Land”.

“Days of Future Past”

Easily one of the best tracks off Senjutsu.

And that verse riff? Adrian again. Starting to see a pattern?

“The Time Machine”

Would you go back in time if you could?

This song has a lot of great riffs, but that harmony section after the first verse stands out.

“The Prisoner”

Wasn’t that excited for this one, until I saw my kids getting into it. Then I had a moment of clarity: open up my mind and enjoy myself.

“Death of the Celts”

Basically Blood Brothers Pt. 2. And I’m 100% okay with that.

“Can I Play With Madness?”

Or as Bruce calls it live: “Can I Play With Agnes?” Apparently, she never answers. Yeah I know, it’s a bad joke.

“Heaven Can Wait”

Wo-oh-oh. Enough said.

“Alexander the Great”

This was the reason I had to be here.

When I dubbed “Somewhere in Time” to cassette, I needed it to fit on a 45-minute side. If I followed the proper tracklist, I’d lose two minutes of “Alexander the Great”.

Unacceptable.

So I recorded Side 2 first, then Side 1, sacrificing part of “Heaven Can Wait” instead. I still got the “woh-oh-ohs’.

“Fear of the Dark”

The crowd sings the leads like it’s “Livin’ on a Prayer”.

“Iron Maiden”

Played at such ridiculous speed, even the term “speed metal” feels inadequate.

“Hell on Earth”

They basically turned the venue into a furnace with all the fire.

But that intro’s clean-tone lead?

Give me a sword and shield, I’m ready for battle.

“The Trooper”

No surprise here. It’s practically a legal requirement for every Maiden setlist.

“Wasted Years”

A perfect closer.

That intro? Instant immortality. Also… yes, I’m a full-blown Adrian Smith fanboy.

No shame.

And then, just like that, it was over.

Who knew this would be Nicko’s last tour behind the kit?

One of the greatest drummers in heavy metal and he did it all with one kick pedal and rock-solid technique.

Another Iron Maiden show in the books. Another legendary night. Another pile of money spent.

Worth every cent.

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