Retrospective: 25 Years of Brave New World (Iron Maiden)

Written: 27th May 2025

There are certain musical moments in life and in the history of rock and metal music that are not just significant but feel seismic. Some albums arrive as pleasant surprises and some with the ferocity of an unrelenting tempest. Brave New World, released in 2000 (where the hell did twenty five years go?) certainly sits among the latter. It was not just the return of Bruce Dickinson and Adrian Smith; it was the return of an intangible feeling, a sound and a sense of purpose. It was Iron Maiden realigning the stars.

Back in 1988 at the age of fifteen, Seventh Son of a Seventh Son opened a door that I never closed again. As I wrote in my retrospective on that album, Maiden was not just about the music; it was about the sense of discovery, the expansion of my musical world and the birth of a life long connection. I have followed Maiden faithfully through their various stylistic detours and even their missteps.

The Blaze Bayley era was a mixed bag. I have interviewed Blaze (most recently in 2024) and let me say this first; he is one of the friendliest, most down to earth people in the metal world. His passion for music is undeniable and he gave everything he had to Iron Maiden. Even now, he does not have a bad word to say about the band or his time in the line-up. There are moments on The X Factor and Virtual XI that I still enjoy – Sign of the Cross and The Clansman to name just two - but great vocalist though Blaze is, Maiden simply did not adapt their writing to suit his deeper, grittier tone. Instead of writing for him, they wrote around him. The result was two albums with flashes of brilliance, but a sense of creative misalignment and some material – The Angel and The Gambler, I am looking at you – that simply would not have been deemed strong enough in the past.

During the late 1990s, Blaze Bayley’s tenure drew to a close, prompted, in some ways, by struggles with his voice on the Virtual XI tour. However, as has been pointed out by members of the band themselves, this was in part due Blaze being expected to sing outside of his natural range. Bayley was (and is) a good singer but he was just the wrong choice for Maiden if they were not prepared to change the way they approached their songwriting.

Bruce Dickinson’s departure from the band in 1993 had not been without its share of in-band angst. Steve Harris thought that Bruce did not give his all during the last leg of the tour, having already announced his decision to leave. His return – initially touted by Rod Smallwood - was not an overnight event but rather a carefully navigated process driven by a mixture of personal reflection, mutual respect and a desire to recapture the band’s creative spark. It would also be fair to say that both parties needed each other and with the encouragement and backing of Dickinson’s band members (who told him that the world needed Iron Maiden) at a meeting in January 1999, he was reinstated as lead vocalist. Later the same day, Adrian Smith was invited to rejoin and accepted on the understanding that Janick Gers would not be asked to leave.

Both Bruce and Adrian were drawn back not just by nostalgia but by the opportunity, and indeed the promise, to innovate and revitalise the Maiden sound. Their re-entry was marked first by the Ed Hunter project and tour, which functioned as a proving ground for their renewed chemistry, before the band officially entered the studio to record Brave New World. The Ed Hunter Tour in 1999 was a crucial prelude that officially marked the return of Dickinson and Smith to the fold. Though ostensibly tied to the release of a video game and compilation album, this tour served a far greater purpose: to reintroduce the classic line-up to the fans and prove, on stage, that Iron Maiden were once again, as many saw it, whole.

Exciting as it was, the tour left a slightly bitter taste for many UK fans, myself included because the band’s homeland was conspicuously left off the itinerary. Over the years, I have heard various reasons for this ranging from scheduling issues, strategy, tax reasons and the band deliberately reflecting on the poor ticket sales during the previous five years. Whatever the reason, all this did was create a sense of unfinished business, one that made the subsequent Brave New World UK dates (albeit only a single date took place outside of England) feel all the more momentous.

And so to the album and music itself. When The Wicker Man single and Brave New World were announced, this instantly became my most looked forward to album of the year. Having already secured tickets for the only UK show to be announced in the lead up to the album, the opportunity to hear new music – with the release of the single on 8th May 2000 - could not come quickly enough.

When I finally had a copy of The Wicker Man in my hands, it was like finding a familiar and treasured item you thought you might never see again. Listening to the song for the first time, it was more than clear that Maiden still had what it took to produce an instantly memorable song. With traditional galloping riffs and an unforgettable chorus, the band sounded hungry again. It is not just one of the best openers of their career, it is a mission statement. This was a clean, modern but recognisable Maiden, reinvigorated by the return of Dickinson and Smith, a fresh beginning without the need to discard the past. Smith also combined well with Dave Murray and Janick Gers in a three-pronged guitar attack – each adding their distinct style. The single also came with Dickinson singing some Blaze-era tracks live on the Ed Hunter Tour, showing once again, as he had with songs from the first two albums, that he was willing and capable of putting his own mark on material with which he was not originally involved.

It is perhaps no coincidence that such a wonderful opening track (and first single) was co-composed by Bruce and Adrian, who had continued to write together during the 1990s. Apart from the obvious skills in his playing, Maiden had truly missed the songwriting talents of Adrian Smith. He and Dickinson had co-composed (sometimes along with Steve Harris) some amazing songs during the 1980s:  Moonchild, 2 Minutes To Midnight, Back In The Village, The Evil That Men Do and Flight of Icarus to name just some. Smith himself had contributed invaluably to the success of Somewhere in Time (still my second favourite Maiden album) with Wasted Years, Stranger in a Strange Land and best of all, Sea of Madness.

When the album itself arrived, three seemingly long weeks after the single, that first listen was one that filled me with anticipation but also a sense of trepidation. The already familiar sound of The Wicker Man welcomed me to the first Iron Maiden album in twelve years with both Smith and Dickinson in the line-up and as Seventh Son of a Seventh Son was (and is) my favourite album, this only heightened the tension. It is almost impossible to remember everything I felt during that initial play-through but safe to say, I was not disappointed.

Ghost of the Navigator charts a course through murky waters, harkening back to Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Structurally, the song is a masterclass: a building introduction, a surging chorus and sections that seamlessly segue with elegance. Dickinson’s vocals are commanding yet introspective, almost haunted. Soaring and sorrowful. Iron Maiden hadn’t sounded this progressive, or this philosophical, in years. The title track is a soaring epic, rich with layered guitars and dystopian wonders. Musically triumphant but lyrically unnerving, Maiden once again balance the classic and their increasing progressive tendencies. It is lush and melodic with grand refrains and glowing harmonies. Remembering that first listen, Maiden had made it three great tracks out of three so far.

Blood Brothers – another Steve Harris classic – follows. Elegiac, heartfelt and introspective, Harris’s tribute to his late father both mourns and unites. The introduction – one of fragile peace – begins a narrative of not war or myth but human connection. Here, Maiden – often epic and with lyrics of a more external nature – turn inwards and in doing so, touch on something both universally resonant and achingly personal. After a trio of more expansive tracks, The Mercenary is well positioned, running for a tight four and a half minutes, with no sprawling detours. It does not quite live up the standard of the first four songs but it gives some respite before the next epic.

The second half of the album begins with the longest song on the album – Dream Of Mirrors. Among Maiden’s most structurally dynamic tracks, it begins with haunting, almost lullaby-like gentleness. Then, thee minutes in comes the storm: tempo shifts, pounding rhythms from Nicko McBrain and anthemic vocals. Dickinson delivers some of his most expressive work here, moving from whisper to wail. It is eerie, operatic and full of psychodrama. The frantic, blistering solos and rampant instrumentation that begins a little before the six minute mark are among the most enjoyable moments on the entire album. Another classic.

Maiden follow the longest song on the album with the shortest – The Fallen Angel. Only played live at a handful of gigs and not included on the live album that documented the tour – Rock In Rio – this is a dark horse in the album’s track list. Full of snarling menace, it is a tense track with riffs that writhe. Each of the guitar solos soar, sneer and twist and it often rivals The Wicker Man as my favourite of the shorter tracks.

While I know it is popular with many fans and there are parts of it I do enjoy – the solos a little after three minutes, for example -The Nomad is the track I find it harder to get through than any other. Maybe it is just a little too long, and at times repetitive. I think there is a really great six minute song in there somewhere but at nine minutes and only a touch shorter than Dream of Mirrors – a track that seems to fly by – it could have perhaps used some editing. Nevertheless, the album ends strongly and it is testament to the overall consistency of Brave New World that a track as good as Out Of The Silent Planet is probably only my seventh or eighth favourite on the album. The extended introduction, an impassioned performance from Dickinson and varying solos make this track something different to the rest of the album.

There is wisdom in the closer - The Thin Line Between Love and Hate. Lyrically meditative and  compositionally expansive, the song explores duality: kindness and cruelty, peace and violence. Beginning gently, the emotional tides rise and recede, rolling into the heavier sections with ease. It works beautifully as another philosophical track. A mature, human, haunting farewell.

There is some hilarity to be had right at the end of the album with some in-studio banter, Nicko saying, “Oh I fucking missed it,” and Steve Harris mentioning about having that on tape. It has never been revealed if this was Nicko referring to a missed beat or his general view on the whole experience.

Thinking back to that first listen, Brave New World was better than it had any right to be. It seemed the fire and desire had returned to the band along with Adrian and Bruce. It is also notable how the band’s dynamic changed: Bruce, once the restless frontman looking for new avenues, seemed re-energised within Maiden; Adrian’s melodic sensibilities were once again woven into the fabric of the band’s sound; and Janick Gers, often unfairly maligned, proved his worth as a livewire presence, a valuable co-songwriter to some songs of note and a legitimate third guitarist. The triple-guitar setup, originally viewed as a potential clash of egos, became a defining element of their new era.

The final piece of the jigsaw was to see the new line-up live, which I did at Earls Court in June 2000 (and subsequently Brixton Academy in 2002). With those initial listens to the album fresh in the memory, it remains one of the most electrifying gigs I have ever attended. The sense of joy in the room was palpable. Fans who had been with the band for some time stood shoulder to shoulder with a younger generation discovering the band anew. I remember the opening blast of The Wicker Man and the way the whole venue seemed to lift off. Bruce was in imperious form, commanding the stage like a returning general. It was not nostalgia; it was vitality. Iron Maiden were a force reborn. Twelve years after I had bought Can I Play With Madness on 7” vinyl, I stood in that arena with the teenage fan in me thrilled by the classics but the adult music lover thrilled by something deeper – a sense of not only continuity but of evolution. During a wonderful setlist, the new songs were performed flawlessly and it is wonderful to have the Rock in Rio audio and visual releases to remind me of that time. It is my second favourite Maiden live release behind Live After Death.

Brave New World feels like the album that Maiden needed to make. It was not just a comeback; it was a declaration and re-discovery of their identity. Twenty five years later, it still holds up remarkably well and it toggles with A Matter Of Life and Death as my favourite post-90s album. Brave New World convincingly marked the beginning of a new chapter, one that’s still being written over two decades later....