PICTURES: TRAVIS SHINN
T
uyo,
the theme song from
Narcos,
wafts lazily
in the background of the dimly lit studio, as Rob Halford, Judas Priest’s iconic frontman, glares through the dark lenses of his aviator sunglasses, his head crowned by a shiny leather cop hat. The photographer snaps away. Dressed to the nines in his black biker coat, hands adorned with fingerless, studded gloves, Rob looks like he’s ready to rain hellfire and brimstone upon a stadium full of surging, wild-eyed headbangers. Then things get weird.
“Are you ready for a kitty cat?” inquires Travis Shinn, the photographer.
“I’m always ready for a kitty cat,” Rob replies, with palpable excitement.
This is no saucy volley of double entendres, but an exchange that introduces a heart-melting spectacle. A tiny, orange tabby kitten is handed to Rob, and his stoic metal façade crumbles, revealing a man bursting with unadulterated joy.
It’s obvious to every metalhead with an internet connection that Rob loves kittens. On Instagram (727,000 followers and counting), he posts an inordinate amount of feline memes, poses in kitty t-shirts, and often tags LA nonprofit Kitten Rescue. However, today’s photoshoot is at a recording studio in Rob’s hometown of Phoenix, Arizona, so we’ve called in local organisation the Arizona Animal Welfare League (see Hell Bent Fur Leather box, page 40) to brighten Rob’s day.
Kiwi, the tabby, gazes deeply into the Metal God’s face before suddenly turning fugitive. After a swift rescue, he’s replaced with Hazel, a shy black kitten with saucer-sized eyes. She purrs her way into Rob’s embrace, finding solace in his snowy white beard. The room is now a symphony of coos and clicks, as Travis immortalises the love fest. Rob, lost in the moment, lavishes Hazel with affection, in a scene that’s oddly tender and starkly different from the metal fury that he’s known to command.
“I love all creatures,” Rob says wistfully, after the last kitten has been whisked away. “Animals were here before we were, weren’t they? Ha ha! So there’s the respect right there.
They’re such an important part of your life, whether you’re an owner of a dog, cat, lizard, snake… You develop a bond to this living, breathing creature. They’re companions, they have empathy. Particularly when there’s some kind of challenge going on in their person’s life, like a bereavement, they snuggle up to you. It’s a very profound moment.”
We retreat to a snug back lounge in the studio – a hallowed ground where Rob’s etched countless tracks into the annals of metal history. His longtime partner, Thomas, delivers a steaming cup of coffee to him. We slump into the black leather couches, ready to get a sense of Rob Halford in 2024.
In the public eye, he’s a screeching, leather-clad firebrand, a tireless preacher in the church of heavy metal, ever ready to spread the gospel to the horn-throwing faithful across the globe. He’s also a beacon of inclusivity and a much-loved member of the LGBTQIA+ community, coming out on MTV in 1998. But seated across from us today, Rob is mellow. His 72 years have resulted in wisdom born from raw life experience, and a sobriety streak running 38 years strong.
He speaks with an ease that’s disarming, flipping questions back at us like a seasoned card shark. Decades in the States haven’t scrubbed away that thick Black Country accent, as if it’s a badge of honour he refuses to shed.
“Who I am as a person has never really dissipated,” he says. Smiling, he continues, “We call ourselves ‘Yam Yams.’ To be a ‘Yam Yam’ is to come from my part of the West Midlands, or the Black Country, as we call it. And you don’t put yourself on a pedestal. You don’t elevate yourself because we’re all people, we all do different kinds of jobs. I happen to be a singer in a heavy metal band. The fact that it is who it is and what we’ve achieved is irrelevant.”
In 1973, Rob joined forces with the rampaging British metal beast known as Judas Priest, adding his otherworldly vocals to a classic line-up that included guitarists Glenn Tipton and K.K. Downing, alongside bassist Ian Hill. Members have come and gone throughout the ensuing half century, including Rob himself, who took leave of the band from 1992-2003 to pursue various solo projects. K.K. Downing left in 2011 and, for several years now, the line-up has featured Rob, Glenn and Ian alongside drummer Scott Travis (since 1989) and guitarist Richie Faulkner (since 2011).
They’re now poised to release Invincible Shield – incredibly, it’ll be the 19th album for the band, and the 17th for Rob.
These days, Rob’s a long way from his fellow Yam Yams. He first set foot in Arizona in 1988, rolling through town after a show in Las Vegas. Phoenix, a bizarre cocktail of painted desert mirage and concrete reality, whispered seductively to him, its sun-blasted landscapes cutting a stark contrast to the industrial West Midlands.
“I’ve always said that everybody has another favourite place, don’t they?” he says. “Like if it’s a vacation place, you keep going back to that one special vacation place because it means so much to you. That’s what happened to me with Phoenix.”
Over the years, myriad bands have asked Rob to share his insights for surviving the steel-jawed carnivore that is the music industry, including a young System Of A Down passing through Phoenix in the 90s, while opening for Slayer.