Last time I saw Judas Priest, in Dallas in 2019, I, like many of those in the audience around me, left delirious with joy. Part of that joy was derived from the fact that I’d seen the Metal God himself, Rob Halford, get through the show, erm, all guns blazing… And, on deciding to make the trek to Utah to see the band possibly for one last time, I’ll admit that the biggest fear in my mind wasn’t whether the band would get into the rock n’roll hall of fame, but whether the grand old man of metal would come through unscathed nearly three years on…

Two songs in – an energised One Shot at Glory and a fine Lightning Strike – and all seems in order. Halford prowls his domain, backed by Richie Faulkner and Andy Sneap who has obviously grown in confidence in the last three years (despite the band attempting to dispense with his services for this tour) and now moves around a little, even engaging in some synchronised headbanging with bassist Ian Hill during a roof-raising take on You’ve Got Another Thing Comin’; that’s a big song to ‘toss away’ so early in the set, but Priest are a big band and they’ve got a lot to get through…

So far, so metal; Next up is Freewheel Burning, delivered, fittingly, at breakneck speed and with a crowd pleasing damn-the-torpedoes attitude from our heroes that sucks any remaining disbelievers into Halford’s vortex of metal; The Metal God himself sings like a man possessed as the years literally fall from his shoulders like so much vaporised matter, whilst Faulkner and Sneap lock together for the solos in truly convincing fashion. The scream unleashed by Halford at the end of the song sends a shiver down the spine and a cheer issuing from the mouth of every fan present.

Sensibly the band ratchet the intensity down a bit for Turbo Lover but Hell Patrol ramps things up again almost immediately and features on of Halford’s best vocals of the whole evening. And then… The Sentinel.

For this reviewer, The Sentinel is the greatest heavy metal song ever written, and tonight the band do it’s continuing legacy the justice it deserves with a committed performance that superbly captures the essence of the song; Halford stays within his modern limits, giving the song everything and Sneap and Faulkner continue their metamorphosis into a genuinely dangerous guitar partnership in their own right. It’s a moving sight, and that emotion is doubled after hearing the crowd’s reception of the song.

A Touch of Evil follows and then we are treated to a surprising (for me at least – I never look at setlists in advance) take on old nugget Rocka Rolla! It’s all grist to the mill by now, and quite frankly the faithful will take whatever is offered at this point as the band head for home on the back of a triumphant quartet of tracks in the shape of Victim of Changes, Desert Plains, another surprise in Invader before ending with a Scott Travis-introduced set closer Painkiller; I don’t think I’ve ever heard Scott Travis speak before was all I could think while he went through the timeless drum intro of the song, but once Halford opens his mouth all you can focus on is that voice, thunderous and utterly triumphant. What a way to end the set proper…

But wait, there’s more… Just as your reviewer is thinking of making a break for the nearest comfort station, the Hellion screams form the PA and here we go again, necks snapping uncontrollably in time with Electric Eye, which, almost impossibly, tops everything that’s gone before. Of course, now that Mr Faulkner actually is made of metal the song is doubly resonant, but that’s not what’s crossing the mind of the crowd as our fingers flex in time to the solo and our throats bellow along to the guitar hookline…

After that, of course, Hell Bent For Leather, Breaking The Law and Living After Midnight act as a sort of heavy metal airlock, nursing us back from the world of heavy metal to real life in the best way possible. I’d come to Salt Lake City more in hope than belief, thinking that perhaps this tour was a bridge too far for a band that owes the world nothing, and doesn’t deserve to leave the stage on a low. How wrong can a man be?

Live shot by Paul Tefertiller/3 Chords Magazine