Iron Maiden in L.A. 11/08/2012

I lost my dad to a very long shitty battle with cancer 17 years ago today.

So, this post is for him.

When I was 12 years old I came home night from the cinema, it was Friday, it was around 9pm, and the house was eerily quiet. I could see the flicker of light the coal fire in the living room was making. As I approached, I saw my dad sitting in the chair beside the fire; he was smoking his usual Silk Cut, he had headphones on with one of those curly leads, and he was sitting in near total darkness, apart from the fire.

As I tentatively approached I asked what he was up to. He smiled at me, removing the headphones, and said “Son, it’s about time you learned about music.” He reached over and unplugged his headphones, he was listening to the Tommy Vance Rock Show on Radio 1. The next song to come on the radio was Iron Maiden’s latest single ‘Can I Play With Madness’.

A lifelong love affair began that night in my heart, not only for Maiden but for Metal. A few months later my Dad got me and him tickets to seem them play at the NEC in Birmingham, that show was recorded and released as a live film as well as an album. I often listen to the crowd noises in between the songs and the banter and know that me and my dad were in there, cheering, clapping, and whistling.

A couple of years later my Dad said to me quite casually, “When I die son, I want you to carry me into the crematorium to Maiden’s ‘Number of the Beast’. His words burned into my memory, mainly cos I thought, “What a cool fucking Dad I have”.

January 12th 2007 my dad passed away in my arms, I held him as he faded and took his last breath.

A week later, I honoured his passing as best as I knew, and we carried him into the crematorium to Number of the FUCKING Beast.

I tell you all this because 5 years later, Iron Maiden did an anniversary tour of the exact gig my dad had taken me to, with the same setlist and same stage design. I was shooting for Kerrang! at the time, and would you fucking believe it, I was commissioned to fly out to LA and not only shoot the gig but get a few cheeky portraits of Steve Harris, legendary Maiden Bassist, songwriter and founder of the band.

After the quick shoot and lunch, we were crammed into a few cars heading back to the venue, but it was a good hour or so away, and I was thrown into the car with Steve, I can’t remember if we were alone or if anyone else was there because all I can remember was me and Steve chatting the whole way back and I got to tell him the exact same story I tell you today.

When I returned to England, I placed that AAA laminate on my wall, sat back and thought, “if all of this, this job, goes away tomorrow, it doesn’t matter, I’ve fucking done it, I’ve completed music photography”.

I miss you, Dad, every single day.