1. You didn’t sing lead vocals on your band, Iron Maiden’s, best song ever, “Run to the Hills”.
I am not a major metal-head, nor am I a guitar rock aficionado. But something about this song just grills my cheese. Mr. Dickinson shows his full range on this song, from guilty white-man rap in the first section, to the truly impressive sustaining of notes in the chorus. (When I saw that this song was on “Rock Band”, I nearly wet myself. I knew I could rock it. And, in my opinion, I turned that mother OUT when I sang. The assembled family members who witnessed it, however, disagreed. I believe I was asked to promise not to sing this. Ever again. I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree. You wouldn’t-know-talent-if-it-bit-you-on-the-ass sons of bitches.)
2. You didn’t produce the seminal stoner anthem, Blue Oyster Cult’s, “Don’t Fear the Reaper”.
Again, I am not a stoner, nor was I a stoner in the 70’s, when the song was released. But I like that song. And there really aren’t enough songs featuring the cowbell. Cowbells are scientifically proven to make people happy. (Not really). The SNL skit that documents the production of the song has given so much mirth, to so many. NBC has uncoolly prohibited the embedding of the video of said skit, but you can find it here. The sight of Will Ferrell’s flying gut? Pure comedic heroin.
3. You didn’t save a bunch of stranded British tourists.
When metal started to go south (thanks for nothin, Nirvana!) in the early 90’s, Bruce left Iron Maiden. He trained to be a commercial pilot, and got a job with a British airline. When a British travel-package company went out of business last weekend, they left stranded tourists all over Europe, with no way home. Bruce, along with other pilots, flew to their rescue. (These days, when he wants to play a gig with Iron Maiden, he has to take unpaid leave from his job with the airline. All in the name of rock’n’roll.)
4. You’ll always care too much about your teeth.
Sorry, it was getting too sappy up in here. But seriously, good on you, Bruce Dickinson, for being an anti-douche, in a world rife with douchieness.