hair

Just after I’d taken my O’ level exams (yes that long ago) in June 1980, a new, up and coming band came to play in Swansea.

Iron Maiden arrived at the Brangwyn Hall and my mates and I just had to go there to see them.  Of course, we had no idea back then that they would go on to become one of the biggest bands in the World, selling millions of albums and even more concert tickets as they graduated to far bigger venues than the humble little hall in my home town.

I can still remember the gig.  We were right at the front of the hall and at the end we somehow managed to get on the stage with our heroes.  And the following day, with no school to go to, we met them at the local HMV store in the city.

They weren’t much different to us.  A little older perhaps but, looking and dressing the same, their youthful enthusiasm and naïveté was, like ours, shining through.  Three of the members we met that day are still in the band.  And they still have their trademark long hair.  

If only the same could be said of their fans!

I just watched a video of their O2 show in London last month, and what struck me was the number of bald heads now in the crowd.  Gone was the long hair, denim and leather, studded belts and badges; replaced by hair holes and much more conservative dress.

I can’t imagine going to see Iron Maiden, or any of the bands from my youth now. I prefer to lock those days away - perfectly preserved memories never to be spoiled by complaining that I can’t see the stage, the sound is too loud and I need the toilet again.

Yes, those days, and my hair, are long gone.

run to the hills