POP MUSIC REVIEW : It’s Unmannerly to Spit in a Maiden’s Face

Kids got no respect these days.

Think of what happened Wednesday night to Bruce Dickinson, the singer for Iron Maiden. The guy is rich and getting richer, he looks like some kind of Norse god, in a chain mail shirt and fur leggings and everything, and he even gets to sing profound stuff about myths and legends and stuff.

So maybe two-thirds of the way through Maiden’s show at Irvine Meadows Amphitheatre, Bruce quiets things down and tells us he is going to reveal the real meaning behind Maiden’s new album, a sort of mystical messianic mishmash called “Seventh Son of a Seventh Son.” Because, Bruce says, people have been asking.

And before Bruce can tell us what it means, some kid spits in his face. This makes Bruce lose his train of thought.

“You come up after the show and spit in my face and I’ll break it for you,” Bruce bellows in his British accent, meaning the kid’s face, not his own.

And Bruce sure has a right to be mad. After all, the kid probably wouldn’t have been there to spit at him in the first place if Bruce hadn’t cussed out the security crew earlier in the show and demanded that they let everyone pile down front. So everyone piles down front, they’re pouring out of the upper stands like the Israelites crossing the Red Sea under Charlton Heston’s staff--and after all, who’s more like Moses than a heavy-metal star who sings about profound mythical stuff?

So the scene down front is kind of like an ongoing rugby scrimmage, which is fine with Bruce and the four other guys in Iron Maiden, ‘cause they’re drawing all kinds of energy vibes off of the mayhem and pounding out some of the toughest, most focused and single-minded head-banger heavy-metal stuff you’re ever going to hear, which is great if you like head-banger stuff.

But when it comes time to explain the meaning behind “Seventh Son,” Bruce expects all this to stop. After all, we’re talking about profound stuff, and he’s a rock star and all, and people should have some respect and be quiet and pay attention.

So this kid gobs him in the face. But if you think about it, maybe the kid was still in a frenzy from the rugby scrimmage, and he was just a little slow in winding down. Or maybe he’d gotten someone’s armpit stuck in his face in all that tangle of bodies, and he was just trying to get the taste out of his mouth the quickest way he could, and it sort of hit Bruce in the face--you know, by accident. It’s unfortunate, but these things happen.

Well, the upshot of it is that we never do get to hear what “Seventh Son” is about. So when Eddie, Maiden’s gigantic, creepy mechanical mascot, pops up in the last number before the encore, holding this pink placenta thing, just like on the album cover--well, it’s hard to say just what it’s supposed to mean. But fireworks are going off everywhere, and there’s flames shooting out of Eddie’s head, so it doesn’t really matter what it means. It’s the spectacle that counts, right?

And yeah, Maiden really did bang heads, all the way through, hardly ever stopping, except, of course, that one time when Bruce tried to explain things. These guys play fast, and the two-man guitar harmonies are really tight, and the drummer, Nicko McBrain--he’s practically as big as Lurch, and the way he hammered those drums all night, he could probably really rearrange your face.

The opening act, L.A. Guns, wasn’t so mighty. They weren’t exactly weak, but the singer was nothing special, and the guitarist, Tracii Guns, took too many aimless solos, so they were nowhere near as hot and raunchy as Guns N’ Roses, the L.A. band that was supposed to open for Maiden. Axl Rose, the Guns N’ Roses singer, came down with “acute laryngitis,” and the band had to cancel 10 dates it had scheduled as Iron Maiden’s opening act, according to a spokesman at Geffen Records. L.A. Guns got called back from touring in Florida to fill in. On Wednesday, they brought out the two Guns N’ Roses guitarists to join them for a jam, but it was sloppy and directionless.

Oh, yeah. Iron Maiden and L.A. Guns were supposed to play again Thursday at Irvine Meadows and then play tonight at the San Diego Sports Arena and Sunday at the Forum in Inglewood. Actually, Bruce Dickinson said on stage that he’d rather play the Long Beach Arena than the Forum, because the Forum is “where all the poseurs go.”

For Bruce’s sake, let’s hope that poseurs can’t spit straight.