Old dudes rock hard.
You expect Hammond organ, ax shred and vocal virtuosity from Uriah Heep, and you still get 'em, even if Mick Box's fretwork alone remains from the original crew half a century ago. Proving that Box musta sold his soul for arthritis prevention, his fingers danced around the neck with unreal precision, making him the star attraction even if Bernie Shaw's genial patter and operatic throatsmanship qualified him as front man. "Look at Yourself," "Easy Livin'," if no "July Morning" -- the stretchy song structures codified a certain branch of Brit progressive rock, updated most attractively by the rolling dynamics of "Between Two Worlds," if 1998 qualifies as recent. No nettles, except to wonder why there was a 6 at the top of Russell Gilbrook's two thundering kick-drum heads. Does he sometimes kick three drums? Was there a 12 at the bottom that we couldn't see, symbolizing a reversal of time? What is time, after all?
Judas Priest played a long time that felt short. Tossing in songs they hadn't featured in ages (thanks especially for the desperately slogging "Out in the Cold") and worthy selections from the current "Firepower" (the fierce "Necromancer"), Priest felt vital, focused and tight. You'd never have guessed Rob Halford had bronchitis mere weeks earlier -- his rasps were fully controlled, his screams stratospheric. Perhaps we missed Glenn Tipton and K.K. Downing for their edge and recklessness respectively, but the replacement guitar duo of Richie Faulkner and Andy Sneap spun out the twin riffs slicker than coke snot. "Victim of Changes" showed they can pull off that gothic '70s psychedelia, too. Never a band to shun spectacle, Priest topped themselves with an array of leather & studs that no '70s bondage bar could have matched, and Halford never tires of riding his Harley onto the stage in a cloud of petrochemicals. Special notice must go to the projected visuals, where castles loomed and sh*t exploded in glorious fashion. After "Breaking the Law" and "Living After Midnight," we were ushered out with the recorded strains of Queen's "We Are the Champions." We knew why they did that, but it was still weird.
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ROB HALFORD PHOTO BY FUZZY BART.