Iron Maiden: Burning Ambition Says Nothing New, and That’s Good!
(This article is written by Meadow Wyand)
Iron Maiden have documented their history a lot, but it feels like they haven’t. When they became my favorite band at age thirteen, I tried to learn everything about them I could. I was an impressionable youngster on their Fan Club Forum, eagerly swallowed The History of Iron Maiden documentaries and pieced together leftovers from whatever heavy metal specials were airing on VH1. I would pour over Ross Halfin’s epic Iron Maiden: The Photographs while listening to their records and CDs. The Flight 666
concert film came out in 2008, wherein my attendance at the Toronto show of the Somewhere Back in Time Tour was immortalized on video.
Throughout my early fandom, I learned more about literary references than I did the band members themselves. My passion for the group was only reinforced by their reticence to be public figures, during a time when it felt like that was becoming increasingly rare.
The trailer for the band’s new documentary Iron Maiden: Burning Ambition promised that we would “experience the incredible story… in their own words for the first time ever.” Were there finally going to be unearthed tales of rock ‘n’ roll excess and interpersonal drama? Have they been secretive all these years or was there just not much to tell? Will we finally know why they asked Clive Burr to leave?
I was skeptical. I didn’t want those questions to be answered and thankfully, they weren’t. The film is not without its flaws. Its timeline jumps around a lot and spends an eternity in Poland. It also features many questionable animation sequences and doesn’t have a clear narrative focus. Many fans have expressed disappointment with Burning Ambition’s lack of revelatory moments, but I’m glad it didn’t tell me anything new. My perception of Iron Maiden didn’t change. I still spoke of them with reverence after the credits rolled. Respectability should be celebrated among artists in our post-reality TV culture.
Frontman Bruce Dicksinson once infamously said, “reality TV showcases all the lowest forms of human nature.” His words were heated. Many suspected they were pointed at reality star mom, Sharon Osbourne, after she threw eggs at them on 2005’s Ozzfest. In hindsight however, they do highlight the band’s history of personal restraint. Maiden have always surrounded themselves with people that appreciated their desire for sustainability.
In The History of Iron Maiden Part 1, Manager Rod Smallwood says that their mascot Eddie “allowed the band to take a back seat… They were delighted. They’re not into being rock stars.” His approach contrasts that of Sharon Osbourne, who always pushed for Ozzy to be a recognizable pop culture image. Shows like The Osbournes accelerated a societal view of musicians as having no autonomy or personal boundaries. Iron Maiden stood against those early signs of surveillance culture that have only become more dominant in the years since.
In the social media age, Maiden’s impersonal legacy seems especially prescient. For most artists, social media is a necessary evil. Platforms designed to make everyone feel like their own reality TV star are some of the biggest tools for music promotion and discovery. We feel pressured to not only document every part of our process, but every part of our lives. When we experience the awful feelings that come from envy, discourse, beauty standards and AI slop, let’s remember that Maiden chose privacy and integrity. While that may lead to an underwhelming and narratively disjointed two hours, it also means that they will continue to earn our respect. Industry pressures and uncaring tech bros make you think that there is no path to grow as an artist on that basis, but that’s only because they want you to keep creating free content for their services and keep paying for ads.
Maiden have never been rock stars or celebrities. They’re artists and that’s what we love about them. They always preferred to stay out of the public eye and let Eddie be their cover image. There probably isn’t enough material to fill a single chapter of Iron Maiden’s “The Dirt”. They’re delightfully boring, working-class East Enders who created a mythology that eclipses their individuality. As Chuck D says in the documentary, “this group created its own universe.” Their legacy is solely predicated on a great discography, spectacular live shows and poetic storytelling. As musicians and artists, that should be our goal.
Up the Irons.
