It’s a Tuesday night in the freezing rain in grimy grubby bastard Highbury. Despite the less than salubrious surroundings The Garage is heaving, awash with leather-clad band members, scribbling journalists and even a reasonable horde of real-live Maiden t-shirted punters. The enormous tour bus out back and glitzy, some-years old backdrop photo reveal the reason for this unseasonal Metal feeding frenzy. One of the movement’s best preserved veterans, the eternally unfashionable Dorothea Pesch, is in town ready to strut her stuff at one of only two dates in the metal backwater called the United Kingdom.

Prior to La Pesch, however the crowd have to contend with a set from fresh-faced Czech band Seven, who released their first album with vocals ‘Freedom Call’ via Nuclear Blast year. After a rousing Garage reception, the bouncing Czechs immediately attempt to piledrive their way through a True Metal set, coming across not unlike ’Soul Destruction’-era The Almighty.

By the Stooges-esque riffing of third song ‘No Surrender’, however, it is obvious that Seven are nothing special. Prior to ‘Freedom Call’ they released several instrumental albums, and their set suffers from a penchant for self-indulgence and lack of stagecraft.  At one point singer Lukas Pisarik brandishes a drill for no apparent reason. Then star player, guitarist Honza Kirk Behunek launches into a guitar solo that goes on, and on, and on and then on some more. Intense Satriani-ish widdling inspires equally intense watch checking and yawning. A clever bit where Behunek and the bass player play each other’s instruments creates an intelligent exodus for the bar. Tuesday night at The Garage in front of a festival crowd isn’t the place to try out a jazz odyssey. Seven’s 45 minute set feels very long indeed, but they can take heart from a generous reaction on their first outing on British soil.

Pushing 50 she may be, but that decidedly dimunitive Deutsche decibel-decimating dominatrix Doro remains a metal force is evident from the second she explodes onto the stage with the stupendous ‘I Rule The Ruins’. Doro looks and sounds great, moves like the best, and still has that knack of appearing genuinely touched by a warm welcome. With infinite class she takes a lengthy break after the first song to exchange pleasantries with an ecstatic front row, before bringing the house down with ‘Burning The Witches’.

While the night emphatically belongs to Doro Pesch, she is abetted by a strong supporting cast. Guitarists Bas Maas and Princiotta preen and prowl, ably trading pose for pose and solo for solo, while Steven Tyler-alike bass player Nick Douglas threatens to steal the show as he slithers about the stage like the heavy metal lounge lizard he probably is. Drummer Johnny Dee thumps away with joyous abandon, and there is even time for some keyboard, courtesy of a curiously under-dressed Harrison Young.

In a set heavy on the classics we are quickly on to ‘Fight for Rock’, before Doro again moves the crowd to increasing headbanging raptures with an awesome ‘Night of the Warlock’ followed by a series of superbly executed tracks including ‘Stay Hard’ and ‘True as Steel’, after which the command to ‘Raise Your Fist in the Air’ is followed with abandon by an increasingly frantic crowd. Things calm down a little as Doro launches into the German language ballad Für Immer before crunching out ‘Earthshaker Rock’

At this point the set is slightly marred by a lengthy and not entirely welcome drum solo, which is treated with polite enthusiasm. Despite this by the time has Doro bounced back onto the stage with ‘Hairball’ (about the Wacken festival) there is almost nothing she could do to derail a fabulous performance.

Between songs she addresses the crowd with the disarmingly breathless enthusiasm of a teenaged debutante in her endearingly imperfect English. If any in the crowd were undecided, after ‘Hairball’ she will have won them over with a touching tribute to Ronnie James Dio while introducing ‘Hero’, before paying her tribute to the British fans with a ripping cover of ‘Breaking the Law’, the first verse delivered acoustically to allow the crowd to accompany the great woman with their own full throated rendition.

By the final numbers ‘All We Are’ and ‘When East Meets West’ are delivered, the crowd is in ecstasy, the band are swapping instruments and Doro is joined onstage by a series of stage divers and a female guest singer with an intense 1980s hairdo and spandex combination and a fine set of, er, lungs (my notes include scribble about a ‘massive jug’ or similar). Although the band declines an encore, there is much interacting with the audience and signing of anything that comes to hand. Only the hardest of heart could slouch back into the freezing rain not a little star-struck and taken with Doro’s sincerity and total headbanging commitment.

Doro has come. Doro has convinced. Doro has most certainly conquered.

Graham Cushway