Iron Maiden London. 2025. The homecoming event of the year.

When somebody hollers ‘Run for your Lives’ there’s only one thing that comes to mind. Iron Maiden fans clambering to get front of house at the biggest metal concert of the year.

And Saturday the 28th June 2025 at London Stadium was a date for the diary that would be nothing short of historic.

The weather was perfect, the sun, absolutely scorching.. And more Eddie T-Shirts than I’d ever seen in my life.

Over 60,000 fans..  Decked out in custom battle jackets, vintage Iron Maiden tees and costumes, that only a metal crowd can pull off, split open the Stratford air with excitement.

The whole place was charged. Inside the stadium and outside in the streets surrounding Stratford’s Westfield Shopping Centre and leisure area.

It felt like we were entering the gates of metal Valhalla. Shirts off, beers in hand, Maiden flags flying from shoulders and backpacks. Everyone had a grin. This wasn’t just a gig – it was a pilgrimage.

From young kids on dads’ shoulders to old heads in faded tour shirts from the ’80s, the energy was unreal and the crowd as diverse as you’ll find at any concert.

People were buzzing just being in Steve Harris’s East End turf. Even before the gates opened, the sound of Maiden could be heard from every bar around Westfield, where fans patiently queued to get a drink and one of the many bars on route the concert.

The merch stands were equally busy, selling vintage Tees, that were flying at £50 a time and if you needed something a little bit more special to remember this historical date, tour jackets… A snip at £150.

We were here to witness metal gods—and we knew they’d deliver.

The concert, on West Ham’s turf, was a life‑affirming, emotional moment: a genuine homecoming for Steve Harris (a lifelong Hammers fan) and East London‑born members Dave Murray, Adrian Smith, and Nicko McBrain—even though sadly, Nicko McBrain had taken a back seat from touring and wasn’t performing. A huge shame, but it really wasn’t;t going to spoil the show.

It was an early occasion, with a somewhat reserved 10.30pm curfew, but nothing was going to dampen the show and with two epic support acts hitting the stage from as early as 5.45pm, everybody was entertained right up to the main act.

Iron Maiden – The Support.

The Raven Age – East London’s Own Rise to the Occasion

The first band on the card was The Raven Age, and they wasted no time setting things off. Heavy riffs, melodic choruses, massive stage presence—they were tight.

George Harris (yes, Steve’s lad) was front and centre, grinning like a fan but playing like a pro.

Their connection to Maiden was obvious, but they’ve carved their own identity—clean hooks, emotional leads, and zero filler.

They had people headbanging by the third song. It didn’t feel like a warm-up, it felt like a celebration. A proper East London handshake before the big boys arrived. You can feel there’s a future headliner in there somewhere.

Halestorm – Loud, Lzzy, and Unforgettable

Next up: Halestorm. If you weren’t a fan before this set, you were afterwards. Lzzy Hale’s voice was insane—raw power mixed with pure control. Every scream, every note hit like a freight train. Guitars were heavy and punchy, the drums locked in, and the whole band looked like they were having the time of their lives.

The sun was dropping behind the stands and Halestorm brought the fire. Their newer stuff (from the upcoming Everestalbum) landed perfectly alongside bangers like “Love Bites (So Do I)” and “I Miss the Misery.” They turned up the volume and the adrenaline. A killer band who owned the moment.

And then… Iron Maiden

The lights dimmed and a rumble ran through the crowd before the PA erupted with the classic rock intro Doctor Doctor followed by The Ides of March, a choice nod to the band’s vintage style and a stirring prelude to what was to come

The massive new LED backdrop flickered to life—covering the whole of the huge stage and eschewing the old hanging skull drapes for a dynamic digital canvas that pulsated with haunting animations and surreal imagery of East London landmarks and pubs and even a little homage to the Hammers with a huge digital West Ham flag draped from a window of a house as the scene unfolded.The visuals built an atmosphere thick with anticipation.

Then, just as the tension reached its peak, the first guttural chords of Murders in the Rue Morgue exploded through the speakers—and the entire band strode onto stage to a roar of approval from around 75,000 fans.

Bruce Dickinson’s voice cut through like an old battle cry, and with Simon Dawson seated firmly at the drums, the energy that followed was nothing short of volcanic. It was a breathtaking moment: Maiden emerging from the glow of that cutting-edge digital backdrop into the full electric blaze of their opening anthem.

From the thunderous opener, “Murders in the Rue Morgue”, to the spine‑tingling closer “Wasted Years”, the band reaffirmed their late‑’70s roots by drawing from their first nine albums only.

But they executed those classics with a fresh energy that belied their 50‑year tenure—Simon Dawson’s pounding drums (stepping in for McBrain) kept the rhythm tight and exhilarating.

Bruce Dickinson was, as always, electrifying. His signature “air‑raid siren” voice echoed across the stadium and his athletic stagecraft—whether sprinting across platforms, donning Napoleonic-era gear for “The Trooper,” or riding in a sharkcage for “Hallowed Be Thy Name”—reaffirmed why he remains one of the most magnetic frontmen ever . And then there was Eddie: from puppet form during “Killers” to leading warplanes in “Aces High,” he delivered moments of pure theatrical metal joy

View for the Pit. It doesn’t get much better.

Being in the pit for the opening three songs of Iron Maiden’s London Stadium gig was like being strapped to a rocket mid-launch.

As the intro track faded and the lights erupted, Bruce Dickinson came charging down to front of stage, a man possessed, fists pumping, voice soaring—and I had just seconds to frame him as he moved quickly across the whole length and depth of the stage.

Right in from trof me, I was pretty mesmerised by Janick Gers, inches own world, throwing his guitar around and at one point, flinging a leg skyward in one of his trademark high kicks, practically doing the stand-up splits atop a monitor, guitar wailing.

Through the lens, I was watching a band that defied their age with an energy that would put artists 50 years younger to shame. Every second of the first three songs was pure theatre—fast, frantic, and utterly alive.

At times, I had to force myself to break away from Bruce and Janick to quickly grab the other members of the band playing.

Then it happened … Iron Maiden Eddie makes an appearance.

It was ‘the’ moment every fan waits for: the hulking figure of Eddie storming on stage.

Eddie has always been more than just a mascot—he’s the living, stomping embodiment of everything Iron Maiden stands for: rebellion, mythology, storytelling, and raw, unapologetic power.

He’s evolved through every album, every era, a shape-shifting guardian of Maiden’s legacy, and seeing him in the flesh—towering, theatrical, and utterly surreal—was something else entirely.

Photographing Eddie wasn’t just about capturing a stage prop; it was like trying to freeze a moment of folklore, a piece of heavy metal history in motion.

He fascinates me because he blurs the line between fantasy and reality—he’s monstrous yet familiar, terrifying yet iconic. In the chaos of lights and sound, training my lens on Eddie felt like finally meeting a myth I’d grown up with.

And before we knew it… The first three songs were up and that was our queue.. To get the hell out of the pit. Our time was up. I was gutted. I wanted to stay for the whole set. I mean, who wouldn’t. But there’s a protocol in place, so I packed up my gear and made ready for the 130 mile trip back to Norwich.

But as walked down the causeway and back out into a now calm Stratford, with the sun setting in the distance, there was a little bit of time left to peek behind the curtain, because we all know who was there don’t we… ‘The Phantom of the Opera…’

And that’s about all I can say… I left the stadium fast, dramatic, galloping bassline, mixing heavy riffs with that theatrical, almost storytelling vibe. Hearing it gives me the chills and writing about it, makes the hairs stand up on my arms.

‘Run for Your Lives…’ Was it the best you’ll see of Iron Maiden? I just wish I’d seen the whole show!

Why not head over to the ‘More than Just Music Homepage where you can find a massive catalogue of music photographs and band retrospectives from the past decade!

We’ll be adding new content every week over the summer concert season.