From: fauzan@dcs.rhbnc.ac.uk (Fauzan Mirza)
Subject: 14/10/93 article in THE INDEPENDENT newspaper
Newsgroups: alt.rock-n-roll.metal.ironmaiden
Date: 28 Oct 1996 11:41:54 GMT
Organization: Royal Holloway, University of London
Reply-To: fauzan@dcs.rhbnc.ac.uk (Fauzan Mirza)
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This half-page article was published in THE INDEPENDENT newspaper (page
27, MUSIC section) on Thursday 14 October 1993.
Wanted: someone who can do _this_
`A vacancy for a singer has arisen in the heavy metal band Iron Maiden.
The successful applicant will be physically fit, have plenty of bottle,
fire in his eyes and an ability to murder the high notes. Not an equal
opportunities employer.' Joseph Gallivan reports
[Photo: "Bruce Dickinson at Wembley. Could you handle the high notes?"]
THROUGH the electronic gates. Past the football pitch with home and away
dressing rooms. Along the gravel drive, past the red telephone box and
up to the mock Tudor cottage and the private ``pub'' next to it. Sitting
at the bar in his Essex home, Steve Harris, Iron Maiden's founder member
and bassist, is the man who has everything. Except for one thing. A
singer.
Bruce Dickinson --- novelist, fencing enthusiast, ex-public schoolboy,
announced in February that he would quit the heavy metal band after the
world tour they were just about to begin. He was the cheeky face of the
goth-horror metalheads for 11 years, but he'd had enough. So a note went
out to the news sections of the music press. ``Anyone who fancies
themselves as Dickinson's replacement is invited to send a tape, biog
and photo to Maiden Vocalist, Sanctuary Music ...''
Harris talked about the crucial selection procedure. After all, whoever
got the job would be transformed overnight from complete unknown to
groin-thrusting rock star with a fan base of millions. Each day last
week, the band sifted through the 400 to 500 tapes that had arrived from
all over the world. Steve makes a few things clear. ``The general
standard has been really high. Half of them have been good singers, but
they just wouldn't suit Iron Maiden.'' Harris doesn't hestitate when
asked what the nightmare scenario would be.
``Well, if you got somebody in the band who turns out to be an arsehole.
A prima donna. Also, someone who turns out to be doing all sorts of
wierd and wonderful things, know what I mean? That's not going to do his
voice any good. You have to be physically fit to tour ... We're looking
for someone who sounds different, not already well-known or who sounds
like someone famous. But the trouble with a complete unknown is that you
don't know what they're like until they get up in front of 18,000
people. We need someone who's got the bottle, who won't be intimidated
by the audience, who can say `I'm the boss, I'm here to stay'. He's
gotta be hungry for it, have that fire in his eyes. And we don't want
some geezer who's gonna change his mind after a year.''
A lot to consider then --- but it is not one man's decision. The others
start arriving. The giant drummer, Nicko McBrain, is in good spirits,
and proceeds to tell us about the ``lovely Indian'' he had the night
before. ``Was the curry good too?'' enquires Steve. They clearly know
each other's routines, and have had fun so far listening to the tapes.
``'Ere Steve, did you tell 'im about the American geezer who sounded
just like Bruce? _Fack me_, that was creepy. It's just one guy and an
electric guitar, and when he sings `Flight of Icarus' he sounds
_exactly_ like Bruce did 10 years ago. Steve's bass tech [-nician]
thought it was him!'' ``Probably was,'' laughs Steve. ``Re-auditioning
for his job.''
``And then there was this other one, a lad from Finland about 17, he
sent us a tape of him singing `Fear Of The Dark'. He sounded like his
voice hadn't broken yet. Said he's been a fan from day one and wanted to
be the lead singer of Iron Maiden. Bless 'is heart. Then there was the
little boy singing the Dutch national anthem. Oh, and there was that fat
bloke in the sash ...'' Steve shoots him a dark look. He has already
said he thinks it's unfair to laugh at the ones who didn't make the
grade. We are joined by the other guitarist, Janick Gers, who agrees.
``I respect someone who can sing into a tape recorder and know we'll all
be sitting listening to it. It takes bollocks. Hey, did youplay 'im the
one that sounds like Bruce? It's in the `No' box, though, we'll never
find it now.''
The fourth member, longtime guitarist Dave Murray, finally shows up, and
after a bit of discussion, we repair to the studio at the back of the
house to listen to a few of the tapes. There are four huge cardboard
boxes stuffed with Jiffy bags bearing every sort of international
postmark. Suddenly there is much rejoicing --- quiet Dave has found the
``Bruce'' tape. A blast of ``Bruce'' singing ``Icarus'' comes over the
speakers, uncannily like the real thing --- trembly, border-line
hysterical, suitably _epic_. The band stand around, grinning with
amazement. ``It's his pitching,'' shouts Steve over the din, ``he's even
got Bruce's inflections.'' McBrain adds: ``Funny thing is, when we
recorded that album, Bruce did the vocals in a little kitchen off the
main studio, and he's even managed to recreate _that_ sound too. I got
the chills when I heard that.''
``We had a singing monk too,'' says Dave. ``One tape of his own songs,
one of religious music. Sounded like _Stars On Sunday_. And a Marilyn
Munroe impersonator, all in drag'' ``Y'see, if they're joking, 's
alright,'' Steve says. ``But if they ain't, they're seriously unwell.''
The boys then do a bit of blind tasting. Convieniently to hand is a box
marked ``No'' and another marked ``No No''. Everyone assumes the
position on stools around the hi-fi, with Steve at the controls. As he
has done hundreds of times over the last few days, he opens the bag,
puts the tape in, passes the photo down the line, then the letter.
``Well, if Steve's face doesn't change when he sees the photo, we all
know it's serious,'' McBrain says. ``But you can tell within about a
minute of the tape playing whether they can sing or not.''
The main complaint is that the singers go ``thin'' on the high notes.
``We've got a lot of melodies in our songs you see,'' Steve says. We
skip through a few more --- something ``too poppy, too sweet'', someone
pitching wrong, and then someone who sounds as though they're singing
from inside the toilet on a Jumbo jet. ``Oh that's one of the karaokes.
He's just singing along to the record --- you can hear Bruce in the
background. He's probably just a fan who wants an autograph --- but good
luck to him.''
They had a few women try their luck but as Steve and Janick both
independantly put it, ``You can't have a woman fronting Iron Maiden.
Some of the lyrics just wouldn't suit it.'' Much cackling arose as one
of the crew found the picture of the bloke in the sash. There he was:
white tux, pink carnation and matching cummerbund, doing his cheesiest
for the camera. His CV mentioned an appearence in _Jesus Christ
Superstar_. ``'S gotta be a wind up, innit?'' Steve said as a voice
wilder than Meatloaf's came over the system.
Everyone will get a reply, and those who made an effort to record Maiden
material will get a personal letter of thanks. The big decision will be
made over the next few months. Dave jokes that if they can't find
anyone, perhaps the drummer can sing. ``I think it would be time to
knock it on the head then,'' Steve Harris says.
--
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Fauzan Mirza Department of Computer Science
fauzan@dcs.rhbnc.ac.uk Royal Holloway, Univ of London
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(
geocities.com/~tkause/ftp-directory-maiden) (
geocities.com/~tkause)