Why Bruce is a bonus for beer

Iron Maiden’s frontman Bruce Dickinson has turned his talents to beer by linking up with Robinsons to create a delicious new brew. Pete Brown hits the road to find out more.

I’ve just been on tour with Iron Maiden.

When I say “tour” I mean “brewery tour”, and when I say “Iron Maiden” I mean the lead singer, Bruce Dickinson. But still...

I never was a heavy-metal fan in my youth and have never listened to an Iron Maiden track voluntarily. But when I get to interview this absurdly healthy-looking, affable bloke in his mid-50s, who is so popular in some parts of the world that he can’t walk down the street without a large bodyguard to prevent him being crushed by hysterical fans, he is impossible not to like and admire.

Today, Maiden are no nostalgia circuit band: they’re selling more records than ever, and writing new material for every tour. They work with a discipline and professionalism that would be impressive in any industry, let alone the supposedly sex and drugs-fuelled world of hard rock.

And the polymath Dickinson takes this perfectionist approach to everything he turns his hand to. When he took up sword fencing, he ended up representing Great Britain in the sport. After qualifying as a pilot, he not only flies the band’s jet while on tour; he pilots commercial flights in his down time. And when he decided to brew a beer, he was very particular about the type of beer it had to be.

“I live in Chiswick [west London], 600 yards from the Fuller’s brewery, and I’m an ESB drinker,” Dickinson tells me. “It’s a lovely beer, but all you can have of it is a couple of pints. On the other hand, 3.5% ABV beers don’t cut the mustard for me. I wanted a beer that’s full-flavoured and punches above its alcoholic weight.”

To test how serious Dickinson was, Robinsons put him through his paces with a blind taste test. “It’s the first time I’ve had to audition in 20 years!” he says.

“We wanted to work with someone who was genuinely passionate about beer,” says Robinsons’ head brewer Martyn Weeks.

“So we set up this tasting, including some of his favourites. Out of 10 beers he was actually able to name six of them, including the ones he claimed were his favourites, and he got them all right! He then picked out the hops he wanted from the sample room, and he likes his southern, full-flavoured beers. Trooper isn’t like any other beer we brew, and that’s Bruce’s direct influence.”

TROOPER.created.by.Iron.Maiden.Brewed.by.Robinsons.Brewery.jpg
The number of the yeast: Iron Maiden front man Bruce Dickinson with his new beer Trooper

Dickinson is also delighted with the result. “It punches above its weight in terms of flavour but sits on just the right side of brain damage,” he says. “Everyone can have a good session and we can all go away friends.”

Enthusiasm

Robinsons has done previous collaborations, and the whole idea of collaborative brews elicits mixed responses within the beer scene. But this one was a genuine joint effort rather than any sort of gimmick.

Dickinson says: “Trooper is not an Iron Maiden merchandise product, it’s a new addition to the Robinsons range that we helped create. These guys have a reputation that we didn’t want to trash.”

This genuine beery enthusiasm extends to the brewery tour. At the Trooper launch some weeks after our interview, Bruce insists on conducting the collected journalists, trade people and liggers around the new brewery himself. He talks confidently and knowledgeably about the history of the brewery and the brewing process, without notes.

“He’s done this tour once, with me,” whispers John Robinson, brewery’s brand manager, as we stand by the copper. “We rushed round in 20 minutes and look at him — he knows it off by heart.”

Dickinson repeatedly says “we” when referring to Robinsons. By the end of the tour, I’m convinced he’s angling for a permanent job. Forget the adulation of fans across South America: I think he’d rather be mashing in every morning in Stockport. Would he like to do another brew?

“One of the most enjoyable things about beer is that you can never know it all,” he replies.

“There’s always more to learn, always the unknowable to throw a spanner in the works. It’s like flying — it’s not an exact process. I’m fascinated by it.”

Back at our interview, as I pack up my tape recorder and notebook, Dickinson mentions that for his next trick, he’d like to get decent beer on to planes. I mention one or two practical difficulties with that and he fixes me with a cold stare. And there we are for another 20 minutes, solving the problem.

This hard rocker is one of the most passionate beer advocates I’ve ever met.