01-23-2019 04:40:39 PM -0800
01-23-2019 08:31:19 AM -0800
01-22-2019 03:48:51 PM -0800
01-22-2019 10:41:19 AM -0800
01-22-2019 08:10:28 AM -0800
It looks like you've previously blocked notifications. If you'd like to receive them, please update your browser permissions.
Desktop Notifications are  | 
Get instant alerts on your desktop.
Turn on desktop notifications?
Remind me later.
PJ Media encourages you to read our updated PRIVACY POLICY and COOKIE POLICY.

Judas Priest Across America Caps 40-Year Run as Metal Icons

For what might very possibly be the last time, iconic British metal band Judas Priest is rolling across the United States, touring in support of their latest album, Firepower. On Tuesday, April 17, they rolled through Portland. I procrastinated about going to the show, but ultimately, as a fan dating from the earliest days, I was duty-bound to attend.

Let’s face it, the prospect of leaving the comforts of home at age 66 to negotiate the ordeal of an arena-sized metal concert can be daunting. I’ve already seen Priest too many times to remember, and at every juncture of their decades-spanning run as one of heavy metal’s finest.

The night of the show was cold and showery. The venue was Memorial Coliseum, remodeled and designated historic, but nonetheless a sad sister to the newer Moda Center next door The Priest concert coincided with a Trail Blazer playoff game against the New Orleans Pelicans at Moda, so I knew that traffic in the area would be a monumental cluster. I was right.

I hadn’t bought a ticket in advance, and they were going fast. I didn’t even know if I’d get in.

As I forked over the $27 parking fee to get within striking distance of the arena complex, I kept reminding myself that (lead vocalist) Rob Halford is exactly your age and look what he’s doing tonight. Pay the damn parking fee, get in line, and stop whining. Instead of the reefer I would typically secret into an inside pocket, I’d brought along two Advil gel-caps and a roll of Tums for the inevitable post-spicy dog acid reflux. For another $106, I purchased a decent seat on the second level.

Upon arrival, I noticed how the demographic spread of concertgoers reflected the band’s longevity: Goth-teens sprung from suburbanite Beaverton had purchased their tickets in advance. Portlandia hipsters had also anticipated Priest’s show, smart enough to know that something big, and ending, was blowing through town. Smatterings of merchandise-bedecked Gen-X parents came with charmingly behaved school-age children in tow. Especially resonant on a personal note were the middle-aged, middle management types, who’d apparently come straight from the office in khakis and beige windbreakers, who drank too much beer and risked tumbling down the ancient flights of stairs.

I’d gathered from press reports that only two members of the original Priest lineup would perform that night—Halford and bassist Ian Hill. Original dual-threat rhythm/ lead guitarist K.K. Downing left the band in 2011 amid internecine squabbles, and drummer Dave Holland, who laid the tracks on some of Priest’s most stellar recordings, left for health and family reasons in 1989.

Then, just this past February, lead guitarist Glenn Tipton had disclosed the progression of his Parkinson’s disease diagnosis, a medical setback that precluded his ability to participate in the group’s grueling tour schedule and perform their more complex material. (More on Tipton later.)