They knew how to make bands to last back then. Of the names that made up the New Wave Of British Heavy Metal, a surprising number are still in business. Raven, Angel Witch, Venom, Diamond Head,  Tygers of Pang Tang and Tank you probably won’t have heard of. Saxon maybe. Def Leppard definitely, but they remerged as virtually a completely different entity to break America. Which just leaves Iron Maiden, the band that came to define the movement and have stayed true to their roots. It’s not been an easy path, the comedown from their early to mid eighties peak lasting right up to the turn of the millennium and the return of frontman Bruce Dickinson and guitarist Adrian Smith.

Since then they’ve been on a pretty even keel – releasing well received albums and on a seemingly constantly series of themed tours (the last of which, Future Past, only wrapped up in December). While that was more of a deep dive, this current two year run celebrates their fiftieth anniversary (somewhat sketchily, as Steve Harris only had the idea to form the band on Christmas Day 1975) with a sprint through their early days – aka the first nine albums. And although that period does take them into the start of the slide (No Prayer For The Dying is overlooked completely) the prospect of so many big hitters has taken them back into the world of the huge outdoor show.

Where many newer acts propelled to this level struggle, Maiden are old hands. For a group of gentlemen all approaching their seventies, the energy levels over two hours plus are astonishing with Janick Gers in particular a high kicking, guitar flinging wonder. Dickinson, meanwhile, is another level again. Vocally as strong as ever, he’s the main focus throughout – moving through a succession of one liners and costume changes, the enthusiastic theatre kid amongst the rock boys. And theatre on a grand scale this certainly is. As opposed to simply using the giant video wall to reflect what’s happening on stage, it becomes a key part of the show. The opening takes us back to the East London haunts that inspired and produced them, before a series of spectacular animations build on the narratives of the songs being played below. In a throwback to their pre-technology past, a couple of giant Eddies join them to stalk the stage in delightfully analogue fashion.

As promised, those songs reflect a golden era, largely at any rate. The Killers album (their second, and a let down after a groundbreaking debut) provides the opening salvo but it’s not until the stop dead ending of ‘Phantom Of Opera’ leads into the spoken word intro of ‘Number Of the Beast’ that things really kick into gear. The fifteen minute ‘Rime Of The Ancient Mariner’ is as epic as you might imagine, dynamic and dramatic where ‘Seventh Son Of A Seventh Son’ is ponderous, a hint of the creative dip they were about to head into. That aside, it’s all pretty fantastic – ‘Run To The Hills’, ‘The Trooper’ with it’s still odd sight of Dickinson running across an Irish stage waving a Union Jack (although he does bring out a Tricolour as well) and ‘Hallowed By Name’, which sees him sing half of the song in a cage before morphing into the screen to be chased to the gallows by death. 1984’s ‘2 Minutes To Midnight’ was a rare entry into (big picture) politics that could sadly have been written yesterday, while ‘Iron Maiden’ also has a timeless quality – albeit due to its chaotic punk energy.

Fifty years down then and if thoughts ARE turning to a life post band, there’s no sign of it yet. Drummer Nico McBrain’s retirement after 43 years has been seamlessly dealt with and Harris, who spends his days off leading the band and crew football team, looks like he could keep machine gunning audiences with his bass for years to come. They’ve done all of this on their own terms, pushed the boundaries and emerged largely unscathed. As Smith noted on 1986’s upbeat night closer ‘Wasted Years’, these really have been the golden years.