Irrational Encounters With The Modern World

Dubious Claims To Fame – 19 (b)

This minor incident is included purely for completeness, inasmuch as I have met and had stuff autographed by all three of Iron Maiden’s vocalists. There isn’t a great deal to tell about the time I saw Bruce Dickinson in person, one of the few encounters I have documented on here that involved virtually no conversation between us beyond a cursory “would you mind signing this, please?”

It was 2004, and Bruce was recording his BBC 6 Music show in Glasgow’s Cathouse Rock Club. The show would feature live and recorded interviews with some of the bands playing the Scottish edition of the Download Festival on Glasgow Green, the one year that the promoters brought a scaled-down version of the festival north ahead of the renowned Donington version.

It was the time when my interest in Maiden was peaking, if it had not already peaked, and it was less than a year before I first discovered Combichrist – the band who would replace Maiden in my affections and in a much more sociable way. Given the chance to finally see, probably meet, and certainly be close to the world famous Air Raid Siren, I picked up my free ticket and armed myself with the sleeves from some of the rarest Maiden releases and promos that I had by then lovingly accumulated. Bruce’s vocal booth was set up on stage-right, and there was a sofa centre stage for his interview guests. Although he did interview the Lostprophets, this was pre-recorded backstage at the festival, and all I remember of the band that he interviewed live in front of us is that I had never heard of, or had no interest in, them.

The crowd barrier had been set up, and I stood at the front for about three boring hours. People would use the breaks while songs were playing to pass items to the security guys, who would hand them to Bruce and then pass them back appended with that famous hastily-scrawled signature – a B and a squiggle and an overlapping D and a longer squiggle. I followed suit, one item at a time as was the rule they were enforcing, and at the end of the evening I engineered myself into a position where I could get a couple of other bits signed too as Bruce left the stage. His manner was, at the risk of punning, brusque. Although he did autograph the things I presented in front of him, there was no warmth from him. I suspect he was probably looking for friends, family, alcohol, or the green room – his evening’s work done.

Anyway, that’s it. It’s not much of a story, save for the nostalgia aspect of people reading this and remembering that Download did once do a festival in Scotland (Metallica, Korn, Slipknot, and Iggy Pop were some of the headliners.) It does, at least, account for the signed Maiden stuff I now have and will one day sell. The only real claim to fame is that, for a while, the BBC illustrated their 6 Music site dedicated to that show/broadcast with a photo of the crowd, taken from the stage. I was clearly visible and identifiable, but for whatever reason I didn’t right-click on the image and Save As, and that page of the site has long since disappeared. But there’s the claim to fame, and what a dubious one it really is – I once got the widely-acknowledged premier heavy metal frontman to scribble his name on things that cost me a small fortune to obtain, and then had my face plastered on the associated BBC website.

 

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