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*Find out how to win a copy of this book at the end of this review!*

I'm never one to turn away a good music-related auto/biography. Just as with music documentaries, most are surprising and sometimes, surprisingly edifying. Bruce Dickinson, of Iron Maiden fame, has entered the fray with his autobiography, and I'm pleased to say it ticks both boxes, despite being quite the strange creature.

In that sense, there is no doubt that this book mirrors its author. Fans of Iron Maiden—and Dickinson himself—know him for not just his vocal abilities, but also for his well-publicized and idiosyncratic hobbies: aviation and fencing. Both are heavily documented here, along with his unexpected forays into fiction writing, filmmaking, and one particularly hair-raising chapter about his travels to Sarajevo in the middle of the siege.

The very start and the very end of the book shine the strongest, especially in their contrasts. The beginning, where Dickinson describes his life as a child in a chaotic, mutable environment, then through his colourful school years, sets the stage for his later interests, and is told through curious anecdotes and vivid Britishisms. It is early on that he finds a passion for mechanics, war history, fencing, theatre, and eventually music, all of which return as threads woven throughout his life. As he repeats often over the course of the book, “nothing from childhood is ever wasted.”

The end of the book deals with his successful battle with cancer, and is handled with the kind of humor, sang-froid and practicality that speaks to his temperament. Dickinson is the type of person who follows his curiosities, and when faced with an obstacle, methodically overcomes it until he achieves his desired end. Whether that's conquering head and neck cancer in six months (specifically, two large tumors inside his tongue and throat), or learning how to fly heavy commercial airplanes, or, in definitely one of the strangest stories in the book, switching from right-handedness to left-handedness in order to improve his fencing abilities, Dickinson's life is a testament to his single-mindedness.

It is on that particular note that the book finds both its strength, and its cardinal weakness. There is a giant gaping silence throughout the book, which pertains mainly to Dickinson's most personal life. Addressed only in the afterword, with “I made a personal executive decision when I started to write. No births, marriages or divorces, of me or anybody else,” and by stating that “[h]ad I chosen to include airships, wives, divorces, children and entrepreneurial activities this would have been approaching 800 pages long,” he gives himself the autobiographer's get-out-of-jail-free card. People choose autobiographies in order to pry open the secrets of a stranger's examined life, and to see how their relationships have shaped the person they've become. Perhaps in avoiding that entire aspect of his life, Dickinson has inadvertently shared more about his character than he had intended.

Strangely, or perhaps not so, his longest running relationship, with the juggernaut that is Iron Maiden, receives much of the same treatment. Dickinson's trajectory with the band, from joining on their third album, to his six-year departure and subsequent return, is covered here, but there aren't too many personal anecdotes. There are many more details about his early bands and his solo and side projects offered instead, and one can't help but infer that Steve Harris (Maiden's primary songwriter and de facto band leader) looms silently in the shadows of what's unsaid. That is to say, there isn't much of any dirt to be read here, so readers looking for that might want to pick up an unauthorized biography instead.

I greatly enjoyed the book, though in some ways the answers it gave me only opened up more questions, but this is a must-read for all hardcore Maiden fans and people who, like me, have always been fascinated by the idea that, one day, the captain on my flight might be one of the most celebrated heavy metal singers of all time!

Want to win a hardcover copy of this book? I’ll be giving away copies of Bruce Dickinson’s autobiography live on BVST, this coming March 14th at 7 PM ET! Tune in for your chance to win!

Angelica hosts BVST every Wednesday at 7 - 9 PM on CJLO. Tune in for the best (& worst) rock'n'roll, country, punk & metal

Hosted by Luca Caruso-Moro

Stories by Luca Caruso-Moro, Jeremiah Ho 

Produced by Luca Caruso-Moro

Thursday, February 22nd brought us to Café Campus, where Intervals performed on their North American tour alongside Nick Johnston, and Jason Richardson.

Needless to say, the anticipation was quite high for when I was about to go to this show. It had been ages since I had been to a show since my injury in early July, where I dislocated my elbow, and I was not able to go anywhere for months. It is good to be back in the live music world. 

Making my way to the venue, I was listening to The Way Forward again to get a refresher of the songs, and as well preparing for my interview.

Genuinely excited when I was in Intervals' tour bus with Aaron Marshall, we had a discussion about the band, how much they have progressed over the years, and what challenges were faced with writing the newest album. 

Venturing forth inside the venue, it took longer for the show to start because one of the bands unfortunately had to drop due to conflict..

Nick Johnston went on stage, and he played the majority of the tracks from his newest album. I was quite surprised to find that he sounded like a younger Steve Vai from his guitar playing skills. All the songs were instrumental, and some had unique time signatures, polyrhythms, and catchy guitar licks; some were heavy, some were super soft. Consider me a new fan of Nick's music. 

Next up was Jason Richardson, who I was looking forward to see.

On stage were just two musicians, himself and Luke Holland, playing number of songs from I and a new song, "Tinnitus". It was a heavy song, and I liked how much bass drops that were utilized and that it shook the floor like crazy and how the execution was delivered.

I applaud. 

Last but not least, we have Intervals who finally hit the stage all loud and banging. Seeing the band after two years with Animals as headliners, they have definitely improved their performance skills, and as well as presence.

Opening the set with "Touch and Go" proved that Intervals was gonna bring the house down—and they did.

Taking the majority of the set from The Way Forward, it shows that ittranslates well into live form. Hearing the album live was a treat, and more dynamics characteristics come alive with the show. A few of the highlights was from the set were "Belvedere", "I'm Awake", "The Waterfront", and "Libra". What caught me totally off guard is that they played "Alchemy" and "Mata Hari" from In Time, which was bonkers to see live. I have never experienced such a heavy punch from chugging guitars—that literally made my jaw drop the whole time during the whole songs and it was such a blast to see.

Overall, Intervals put on quite a bonkers show. I didn't expect to see a few surprises from the set that night and I was very happy and impressed by how the coordination and team play that was shown on stage, of pure musicianship and technicality. 

Back in December, I took a trip to the land down under. I loved almost everything about Australia—the intensely hot weather, the accent, the creative cursing inserted into casual conversation. The only downside was the beer being twice as expensive. I spent most of my time in Melbourne, a city with wide-ranging arts scene. In many ways, it was like the Montreal of Australia. During my time in Melbourne, I was able to check out a handful of shows, where I fell in love with Australian’s heavy scene. Here are my picks of the best Australian metal bands that I saw live.

King Parrot

Prior to my trip, I was obsessed with King Parrot for their unique grind of black and thrash metal, and for their outrageous sense of humour. In many ways, they’re the ambassadors of Australian metal. Despite living on the other side of the planet, they’ve frequently toured in North America, even recording an album with Phil Anselmo. I’ve seen them twice before in Montreal and Toronto, but I was usually the only one at the front singing along. So it was a completely different experience being able to see them in the hometown, in a packed venue with hundreds of fans singing along. They mostly played songs from their third album Ugly Produce, which they had released a month before, but at one point, they broke out a cover of AC/DC in honour of the late Malcom Young. It was truly a magical night and I still won’t shut up about it.

Pagan

Opening up for King Parrot, was a darkened hardcore band called Pagan. I hadn’t listened to them before, but I was completely taken by surprise. I was in awe of the stage presence of their singer Nikola Elizabeth, who couldn’t stand still for a second and resorted to jumping and kicking the air. Her energy was infectious, not to mention she had a gnarly growl. I suspect that she and her other bandmates have some Italian blood. Perhaps I got the impression from their song “Luigi Cherubini.”

Religious Observance

The next day, I attended an all-day festival featuring a wide variety of sludge, doom and psych bands. I was intrigued by bands with names like Black Jesus and Maggot Bath, but the highlight was seeing Religious Observance. The bassist, Campbell Stephens, organized the festival in honour of the first successful year of his art collective UMAC. His six-member strong band played long doomy songs, without being afraid to delve into the realm of the bizarre. One member was in charge on handling the sample and noise pedals, and somehow manipulated the sound by waving around a knife. Their album Boiling Excrement should give enough indication of their mental state.

Cosmic Kahuna

I was lucky to be staying on such a trendy street, because two blocks away from the sludge festival was another festival called Loudmouth. The bands playing at Loudmouth were more on the melodic punk side, with Guttermouth headlining. But the band that really stood out from the rest was a trio of headbangers called Cosmic Kahuna. The struck up a conversation with the bassists (why are bassists always the most approachable ones?) who described his sound has a mix of surf and Aussie-brand skate punk. But after seeing their performance, I’d describe it as surf riffs sped up to thrash metal speeds.

Headlopper

This band was very strange. It was like staring at something incomprehensible, yet being unable to look away. For starters, the frontman wore a Leatherface-esque mask, would scream into a microphone and fumble with noise pedals with one hand and in the other hand, he held a light, shining it in every direction. The light was blindingly bright, so I had to strategically stand behind a taller person to partially block my view of the stage. They didn’t use guitars at all, instead one guy would repeatedly wack a springboard box with a stick, which generated a guitar-like sound. The drummer would tie the noise together, alternating between cool jams and blast beats whilst pig squealing. They recently released their second album in January. Listen if you dare.