You know Iron Maiden’s pet monster, Eddie? That giant, looming, lurching, stumbling leviathan that fires laser beams from its brow and lightning bolts from its bollocks, lays waste to all and sundry, scarifies the planet, deforests, er, forests, frightens small children and causes Steve Harris to scuttle for cover behind his monitors?
Well, you wouldn’t recognise Eddie tonight. It’s October 1979 and I’m standing thigh-deep in my own personal swimming pool of sweat at the back of London’s sweltering Kingsbury Bandwagon – the so-called Heavy Metal Soundhouse; the birthplace of the New Wave Of British Heavy Metal.
