Halford Memories Make Him 'Must See' Tonight

Its rumble would have been inaudible over the roar of the crowd if its engine weren't miked for maximum effect.

He revved it four or five times before he skidded out stage left, capping what was one of the greatest rock 'n' roll shows of all time with a side-saddle scorch on "Hellbent for Leather."

It's just one of countless Judas Priest classics I'll never outgrow, just like the jaw-dropping sight of Rob Halford riding his fatboy across the stage of the Pittsburgh Civic Arena at my very first heavy metal concert back in (ulp!) 1982.

The genre's greatest singer at the time (and frankly of all-time), Halford embodied heavy metal for millions of Priest fans, and nobody (save maybe Iron Maiden) came close to the sheer spectacle the band brought to the stage.

Yes, KISS are the undisputed kings of rock spectacle, but in 1982, they'd gone back to playing biker bars and proms.

They were also never a heavy metal band, no matter what the famously hip Tipper Gore says.

YEAR OF THE PRIEST

No sir, 1982 was the "Year of the Priest," and my best friend Danny Alexander (he was Beavis, I was Butthead) and I both had 6-foot wall posters screaming with stage shots of our metal gods in full leather and spikes regalia.

In the center of mine was a shot of Halford on his Harley on-stage. It was a stylin' photo, but it didn't convey anything near the cool quotient the stunt carried live.

Priest circa '82 was a live band, the kind that sounds exactly like the record without having it playing in the background ala Miss Britney. They were everything a hormonally hamstrung adolescent male wants and needs: fast, loud and rude.

And even when it was rumored he was gay (unutterably un-hip in the Reagan '80s), Halford remained the embodiment of metallic machismo. Some dismissed the rumors as bogus, others just didn't care.

The debate went something like this:

First Dude: "Dude, there's no (expletive) way Halford is gay."

Second Dude: "Dude, who (expletive) cares? The dude (expletive) rocks!"

First Dude: "Dude! (You're right!)"

Second Dude: "Dude. (duh!)"

AFTER PAIN

A lot has changed since then. Halford left Priest after 1990's painful "Painkiller" and ended up fronting a mildly interesting thrash outfit called Fight and making an admitted mistake with something called Two, which involved Trent ("My music is crap, but I'm weird so love me") Reznor of Nine Inch Nails infamy.

He also came out and said he is gay, something he correctly says is irrelevant to what he can produce musically.

He's right. And while it's a shame he ever felt like he had to hide it from them, the overwhelming majority of Priest fans (myself included) couldn't care less, and respect him for standing up for who he is.

It's something Halford's music has always helped people do. Clawing their way up and out of the grimy factory town of Birmingham, England, some 30 years ago, Judas Priest has always preached perseverance and pride in the face of adversity.

With the aptly-titled "Resurrection," The Reverend Rob is back banging his fist on the pulpit. Released, or more appropriately unleashed this week, this 12-track, 48-minute conversion kit has the World Wide Web crawling with rumors of a Judas Priest reunion in the very near future.

That's because the thing is a better Judas Priest record than anything Halford's ex-bandmates have been able to assemble since he left. And that's because Halford is heavy metal's Roy Orbison, who regular readers know was (say it with me) the greatest singer of all time, infinity-squared.

Even the titles on "Resurrection" scream for vengeance. "Made in Hell." "Locked and Loaded." "Silent Scream." C'mon dude, that's all Priest. And on top of it all, Halford on his Harley on the cover.

He probably won't have the bike with him tonight when he shares the stage at the new Montage Mountain Performing Arts Center with Bruce Dickinson of Iron Maiden and Queensryche's Geoff Tate -- two more of metal's greatest.

But he will have that voice, and he'll be playing at least some Priest tunes.

And if you think I'm going to miss that, (I can't resist) you've got another think comin'.

CHRISTOPHER J. KELLY, is entertainment writer and music critic for The Scranton Times-Tribune newspapers.

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