Iron Maiden, Megadeth @ Entertainment Centre, Adelaide 11/11/2026
“Only those who risk going too far, can possibly find out how far one can go” T.S. Elliot, Transit of Venus
Rarely an employer of understatement, on rare occasions no chain of words, regardless of their careful selection, can possibly downplay a moment’s monumental nature. Such a time graces Adelaide tonight.
Remembrance Day 2026 annually marking the 108th commemoration of ‘the day the guns fell silent’ on WWI battlegrounds, for the first Australian performance and 50-year global celebrations of the almighty IRON MAIDEN, the laws of simplicity need not apply.
Multifacetedly titled, the Run For Your Lives tour carries immense weight. Boasting a setlist
spanning nine studio albums ‘from Iron Maiden to Fear of the Dark, and ‘state-of-the-art production designed to be experienced on a grand scale’, the return of the undisputed demigods of metal to South Australia’s suitably largest stage – the AEC Arena – gained an even grander tenet of meaning by sharing the honours with longtime friends from across the pond.
Challenging metal myths, MEGADETH forgo unnecessary fanfare, and commence the ritual to Wake the Dead ahead of schedule. The trio of vocalists, guitarists Dave Mustane & Teemu Mantysaari and bassist James LoMenzo, tilt instruments in synchronicity and symbolism for Tipping Point.
Drummer Dirk Verbeuren stands to attention, his sticks crossed as if guiding the gigantic fuselage and its passengers packing the arena into Hangar 18, the standby class of the moshpit swoon and eddy. Letting out screams during the legends’ intermissions, Sweating Bullets they regroup to confront the crowd who form a Tornado of Souls.
Without skipping a single note or beat, the Symphony of Destruction carries on unabated. On the cusp of their own half-century, Mantysaari’s blue velvet guitar weaponises, rallying tonight’s troops as voraciously as in 1983. As if announcing Let There Be Shred, the war cries and chants of “MEGADETH!” power Peace Sells, before Mustane, stoic and solo, thanks the crowd: “It makes us so fucking happy that metal is alive! This is one of our favourites, and I think one of yours too,” the band unleash Holy Wars and exact pleasure as well as The Punishment Due in finale.
The crowd frenzied by UFO’s Doctor, Doctor, a stage-wide blackout is replaced by a digitised tour of London’s East End: The Ruskin Arms, East Ham’s tube station, the infamous 1970s stomping ground – The Cart & Horses – to name a few, are projected storeys high, the telecast to the foreboding Ides of March. Walking us along the cobbled streets to a deadend, the crowd as high as the reserved seating are blasted back by the ferocious heat of pyrotechnics, the first but far from last time tonight.
IRON MAIDEN’s fabulous five appear as if by magic, frontman Bruce Dickinson reveals his most oratory self. Edgar Allen Poe’s Murders in the Rue Morgue receiving a thrilling retelling by the Wrathchild, he wilds with the Killers and gallivants to affront a 10-foot-tall Eddie the Head, hitting him where it hurts. Revealing a “doubtful” outlook on the prospects of traveling “across the bloody world to Adelaide again”, were told to “get off your fucking arses” for Maiden’s self-described “night of wholesome family entertainment”.
Like classics do, Dickinson announces, “This one started off as a book, then it became theatre
before the music came. This is Iron Maiden’s version” of The Phantom of the Opera. Fireballs surrounding demonic drummer, Simon Dawson, a familiar voice-over reveals The Number of the Beast. Guitarist Janick Gers is a man possessed, wielding his guitar as an aimed shotgun, Infinite Dreams come true for fans young and old in this moment; lifetimes transcend millenia with the projection of Anubis, the Sphinx and an Eddified effigy of Tutankhamen’s deathmask.
Dickenson donning one of his own, he cavorts atop a second stage platform, while the Powerslave below, Dave Murray, rockets through successive guitar solos; Adrian Smith, the third axeman of the Apocalypse, joins the furore, with 2 Minutes to Midnight on the first-half act. Each of the half-centurians relish in the glory, unrestrained by age or passion, sardonic style is imbibed into the Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Dickinson’s laconic wit.
Fingers flying across bass-strings, bassist Steve Harris accelerates and then labours along with rolling smoke that converts the stage into a ghostship, mimicking the zombie-crewed vessel on the movie screen, pace builds as IRON MAIDEN make another Run to the Hills. The eleventh hour of the main set sees The Seventh Son surge with supernatural strength into perennial psalms of worship, The Trooper, Dickinson makes several more costume changes as the band push themselves beyond mortal bounds.
Calls of Hallowed Be Thy Name are echoed by firecrackers, the midnight sky of the venue is at alight with a concoction of preternatural energy. The Iron Maiden players consumed by the holy spirit itself, the room swarms as the thousands of ever-adoring audience members raise devil’s horns and Aces High, there is no Fear of the Dark tonight.
An electrifying, risk-defying two hour celebration over in almost an instant, there’s no lamenting Wasted Years, even if these songs are the final ones to be enjoyed live. For the almighty IRON MAIDEN there is no limit to how far beyond this lifetime their memory and music can go.
Live Review By Belinda Quick