Live Review: Bruce Dickinson @ The Fillmore Silver Spring — 9/14/25

Bruce Dickinson Brings Fire and Fury to The Fillmore Silver Spring
Words and photos by Michael Sprouse/ Odd Rocker Photography

Bruce Dickinson doesn’t so much walk onto a stage as he materializes. One second, the lights are dim, a hum of anticipation filling the room, and the next you’ve got one of heavy metal’s greatest frontmen striding out like he owns every square inch of air in the building. At The Fillmore Silver Spring, the man who’s spent decades screaming at stadium rafters with Iron Maiden brought his solo tour to a more intimate setting, and the result was something between a theatrical sermon, a hard rock séance, and an old-fashioned, fists-in-the-air metal gig.

There’s something surreal about seeing Dickinson in a club environment — Silver Spring isn’t Donington, and The Fillmore isn’t Madison Square Garden. But that’s precisely what made the show so compelling: this wasn’t just another nostalgia stop or some acoustic storyteller gig on Sept. 14. This was Bruce, at 67 years old, throwing his entire body and voice into a set that spanned his solo years while nodding slyly at Maiden’s shadow without ever being swallowed by it.

The Fillmore isn’t the biggest room on the circuit, but the way Dickinson and his band used it, you’d swear the walls were straining to contain the sound. The opener, “Accident of Birth,” hit with the same galloping energy that defined late-’90s metal — fast, sharp, and unapologetically melodic. Bruce stalked the stage, crouching, gesturing, pulling the crowd in with that unmistakable mix of Shakespearean drama and pub-ready banter.

By the time they tore into “Abduction,” it was clear the setlist wasn’t designed to coast. This wasn’t a “play the hits, pad the night with filler” kind of deal. It was a carefully drawn arc that leaned into deep cuts fans hadn’t heard live in years. “This one’s about being dragged away by things you can’t quite understand,” Bruce smirked, before launching into the kind of vocal lines that make you wonder how his lungs haven’t just resigned after four decades of this abuse. And then came “Laughing in the Hiding Bush,” with its raw ‘90s snarl, reminding everyone that Dickinson’s solo career wasn’t just a sidebar — it was, for many, a genuine lifeline during the wilderness years when Maiden seemed uncertain.

Stream “Laughing in the Hiding Bush” by Bruce Dickinson on YouTube:

There’s something fitting about a song like “Shadow of the Gods” being performed in 2025. In a world cluttered with loud voices, Bruce’s operatic howl cuts through like a blade. The band leaned heavy into the new material, and while lesser singers might be nervous about stacking fresh tracks against decades-old anthems, Bruce carried it with the swagger of someone who knows his catalog is worth the weight.

But the real spark of the night came when “The Chemical Wedding” lit up the room. It’s one of those songs that’s more than just music — it’s atmosphere, it’s myth, it’s thunder bottled in a riff. Adrian Smith may not have been on stage, but the twin-guitar attack recreated that swirling, apocalyptic sound, and Dickinson gave it the kind of performance that turned a club into a cathedral. You could see people in the crowd just mouthing “holy sh*t” to each other during the chorus, a mix of disbelief and gratitude that they were in the room for that.

Now, it wouldn’t be a Bruce Dickinson show without at least a nod to the beast that made him a household name. When the band launched into “Flash of the Blade,” an Iron Maiden deep cut from Powerslave, the place erupted. This wasn’t “Run to the Hills” or “The Trooper” — this was one of those tracks that feels like a secret handshake among diehards. And Bruce knew it. He grinned between lines, prowling the stage as if to say, “Yeah, I knew you’d like that one.”

It was a rare reminder of just how deep his well runs. Dickinson doesn’t need to coast on Maiden material, but he knows when to wield it.

The middle of the set had this almost gothic weight to it, anchored by “Resurrection Men” and the haunting “Rain on the Graves.” The latter, inspired by a graveyard visit in England, came across like a theatrical monologue stitched to a heavy riff. Bruce introduced it with a bit of storytelling, joking about how poets and ghosts tend to give him song ideas. It was a moment where you could feel him pivot from rock frontman to something more like an orator, holding the room with words as much as volume.

Then came the left turn — “Frankenstein,” an Edgar Winter cover that gave the band space to flex. It was instrumental chaos, with guitars and keyboards dueling, Bruce egging them on like a ringmaster. In a way, it was the perfect breather for him, but also a way to showcase the players behind him, a reminder that Dickinson surrounds himself with musicians who can keep up with his larger-than-life presence.

The set pushed forward with “The Alchemist” and “Book of Thel,” both steeped in the esoteric, literary side of Bruce’s songwriting. You could practically see the Aleister Crowley books glowing in the corners of the room as the riffs tumbled out. It’s not always easy to bring songs with that much heady content to life, but Bruce sells them with body language — arms outstretched, face locked in intensity, as if he’s delivering some half-mad prophecy.

Stream “The Alchemist” by Iron Maiden on YouTube:

By the time “Road to Hell” closed the main set, the energy was white-hot. That riff is pure sledgehammer, and Bruce delivered it like a preacher at the end of a fire-and-brimstone sermon. When he left the stage, it wasn’t the kind of “we’ll see if they come back” moment. It was obvious there was more.

Of course, the encore delivered in spades. When the opening notes of “Tears of the Dragon” rang out, the crowd roared. It’s Bruce’s magnum opus outside of Maiden, the ballad that builds into a soaring epic. Phones came out, sure, but for once it didn’t feel like distraction. People wanted to remember this one. You could see lips moving in unison, some fans visibly overwhelmed — it’s that kind of song, the one that cuts through the armor.

Then came “Gods of War,” another new cut that didn’t wilt in the shadow of the classics. If anything, it carried the weight of now, sounding like it belonged to 2025 as much as the past. The band leaned hard, and Bruce gave it everything, his voice ragged but still impossibly strong.

Finally, “The Tower.” A fitting closer — majestic, dramatic, and delivered with every ounce of theater Bruce could summon. He stretched the song out, milking every pause, pacing the stage like an actor at curtain call. And when it ended, when the last note rang and Bruce stood there grinning with sweat soaking through his shirt, the place just erupted.

Bruce Dickinson doesn’t have to tour solo. He could stick to Maiden, play sold-out arenas, and live comfortably off the legacy. But Sunday proved why he still does it: because he loves it, because these songs matter, and because even now, decades into his career, he still has something to say.

It’s not every day you get to stand a few feet from a legend and hear him roar like that. And maybe that’s the thing — you go expecting a show, and you leave feeling like you’ve witnessed a battle, a sermon, a story, and a celebration all at once.

Setlist

1. Accident of Birth
2. Abduction
3. Laughing in the Hiding Bush
4. Shadow of the Gods
5. Chemical Wedding
6. Flash of the Blade (Iron Maiden cover)
7. Resurrection Men
8. Rain on the Graves
9. Frankenstein (Edgar Winter cover)
10.The Alchemist
11. Book of Thel
12. Road to Hell

Encore:
13. Tears of the Dragon
14. Gods of War
15. The Tower

Local tastemaker Stereo Faith opened the show with a DJ set! Scroll down for a few photos of Stereo Faith behind the decks.

Here are some photos of Bruce Dickinson performing live at The Fillmore Silver Spring on Sept. 14, 2025. All pictures copyright and courtesy of Michael Sprouse/ Odd Rocker Photography.

Here are some photos of Stereo Faith opening the show!