W.A.S.P., Armored Saint – Victoria Warehouse, Manchester – Saturday 27th September 2025

W.A.S.P.

THE BLOODIEST SHOW ON EARTH!

Welcome to the Arena Of Pleasure. Manchester on a Saturday night. It’s raining naturally, but there’s a party out towards Old Trafford and it’s not at one of the sporting arenas. Forty years on from its release and W.A.S.P. return to the UK for a final flourish on the Album ONE Alive! tour in celebration of their iconic debut album. Iconic indeed as from note one, certainly those in the immediate vicinity seem intent on singing back every word.

Blackie Lawless – a rock star not quite up with Ozzy or Kiss, but definitely cast from the same mold – explains how playing the entire album from top to bottom, start to finish, is not quite how he envisaged the show. “The promoters insisted,” he says. On Your Knees – “our set opener for FORTY YEARS!” – might seem strangely out of place some half hour or so into the set, but you have to admit that I Wanna Be Somebody is fitting of the place right at the start of proceedings. That singalong, audience participation from the off is spot on.

IS THIS THE END…?

That’s after even the huge skeletal sculpted mic stand has earned its own cheer as the stage is set and Jim Morrison sings “this is the end...” as the lights go down. Sirens wail, red searchlights pan the room and the smartphone ritual (not a part of the scene forty years ago) is obvserved. Three shadowy figures emerge and turn their back on the crowd to heighten the impact. They appear in front of a backdrop of circus and carnival banners, offering all manner of voyeuristic delights. The voodoo queen, a headless rider on the wall of death, fire breathers and chainsaws all look on as the frontline trio let off some steam with sprints, whirls, dashes and instrument calisthenics.

A BLOOD SOAKED BATTLE TO THE DEATH!

B.A.D. is a huge lump of thumping Rock as the stream of four minute Glam Rocking fire bombs splay forth. Barely a moment to take a breath before another singalong chorus is being rammed down the collective throats. The hair remains the same and there may be some evidence of aesthetic support here and there, although the waistlines may be a little broader and the shape throwing flexibility may be tested, but it all looks and sounds as good as it could be, several decades down the line.

As Hellion kicks in, the rampant tempo gets a boost. Several banners drop to reveal video screens that offer playback of some lithe young men working the stages; visions of W.A.S.P. in their early days, all soft focus and even bigger hair as was the wont, keep the energy levels up onstage . Meanwhile that energy gets brought down with what could be the highlight of the album playback. Sleeping (In The Fire) might be the concession to the big power ballad but the guitar solo from Doug Blair that extends the song to well over six minutes, does him the honour of leaving him alone on stage (drums excepted) to show he can turn in the sort of emotion drenched solo that shows he can do more than just riff, shred and throw his guitar around.

SATAN’S SWEETHEARTS!

With the time honoured (more cheesy than misogynistic) video that plays out behind them, Tormentor is great fun. Galloping along, it’s hard to resist the image that sales of studded leather wristbands might see a rush down at Afflecks in town come Monday morning. Having been well revved, there’s a strange sense of WTF as The Torture Never Stops and Blackie shouts “Thank you! Goodnight!” A bizarre hush as we sort of expect a concluding comment of sorts and then rage into the next set of songs. However, it provides a statement; a full stop; the emphasis remaining firmly on Album One. It’s been a show where those songs are the focus and there may well be some who feel well satisfied as the sequence is complete.

We need a l-o-n-g encore…And a l-o-n-g encore we get with a cherry picked selection that kicks off with a lively medley whose roots in the Electric Circus remain firmly back in the middle of the Eighties. As does the following selection (although revisiting their cover of The Who’s The Real Me adds a splash of Seventies magic) and having done the spadework with Album One, there’s a genuine off the leash feel to the rest of the set.

A HEALTHY NOSTALGIA

Ultimately, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the healthy dose of nostalgia served up by tonight’s package. While there were many in the house who were probably there back in the day (certainly the couple to whom chatted in the queue -who reminisced over the ’87 Monsters Of Rock), the breadth of the younger demographic plus a little shift in the gender balance enjoying a trip down memory lane was warming and encouraging. There’s still a place as long as there are the bands which might just allow Blackie and W.A.S.P. to retire (dis)gracefully.

ARMORED SAINT

More hair Metal from back in the day – maybe some more hair than others – and a band whose opening song has been set in stone, Armored Saint sing very much form the same hymn sheet. Maybe one though that owes a little more to the NWOBHM than the soft focus of their native LA.

“Now then Manchester,” says John Bush after a bout of shadow boxing to relieve the rush during the opening March Of The Saint whose rabid pace is accompanied by a barrage of epilepsy inducing lights. Sounds like he’s been at the local dialect brew pre-show. Long Before I Die has him spitting out the “I got yours and I got mine” opening line that sees a hefty double kick drum and a ‘back to the NWOBHM’ gallop so beloved by the Maidens and the Saxons with whom Armored Saint surely share some affinity.

EPIC

It turns out to be a grand little set stretching to forty minutes that must convince anyone who’s not on the same page. Win Hands Down moves into more moody and dramatic territory as the frontline make it out into the wings while Bush also heaves himself offstage and ventures into the pit and onto the barrier. They introduce “an epic” as the finale of Can U Deliver, Standing On The Shoulders Of Giants and Reign Of Fire showcases not only what they call something about “if Iron Maiden f@@ked Lynyrd Skynyrd and they had a baby” but in particular the twin guitar talents of Phil Sandoval and Jeff Duncan. The duo duly mount the central podium for some impressive harmonious sounds.

A great little set and deserving to be billed with their peers and continue to fly the flag for proper, old school, Heavy Metal.

All photography by Andy Pountney (Event Photography Awards Winner 2024 and 2025). You can check out more of his work on shot_in_the_dark_photography2 on Instagram.

W.A.S.P. online: Website / Facebook / Instagram / Youtube

Armored Saint online: Website / Facebook / Instagram / X

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