"There's a time in life for Hoagy Carmichael. There's a time in life for Claude Debussy. There's a time in life for Jerry Lee Lewis. There's a time in life for Destiny's Child. All these things have their moment." ~Elvis Costello
I wanna pull on your coat about another unfortunate music trend: the distillation in contemporary culture of the music of artists of past eras into a song or two.
Journey has become, for many under tha age of 30, “Don’t Stop Believin'”. The great career of Neil Diamond is summed up in the three minutes and twenty-one seconds of “Sweet Caroline”. Styx is reduced to “Renegade” and “Come Sail Away”. Johnny Cash? “Ring of Fire”.
And Alice Cooper is known by too many young music fans solely for “School’s Out”.
One day this blog will seek to remedy that properly.
In the meantime, give me a minute on my soapbox to tell you Alice had a span from 1975-78 in which he charted inside the top twenty no less than four times with ballads. These were:
“Only Women” (#12 in 1975)
“I Never Cry” (#12 in ’77)
“You and Me” (#9 in ’77)
“How You Gonna See Me Now” (#12 in ’78)
That’s four consecutive Alice Cooper albums with a ballad as the lead single–all top 20 hits
Far from the one-dimensional shock rocker the decades have folded him into, Alice Cooper should be reappraised as one of the foremost purveyors of pathos of the latter half of the 70’s.
If that don’t suit you, that’s a drag.
1978’s From the Inside LP, which Alice co-wrote with long-time Elton John sideman Bernie Taupin, is a concept album inspired by Alice’s battle with addiction. If it’s not one of his best albums it’s certainly one of his most personal and self-reflective.
The single “How You Gonna See Me Now”, is the heart-tugging deliberation of a man forced to spend time away from his family and wondering if he’ll be welcomed back when his time of institutionalization ends. A man questioning whether the pieces of his life will still be there to put back together.
Taupin’s lyric is deliberately ambiguous enough to lend itself to interpretations of criminal incarceration, a stint in rehab, or a stay in a sanitarium. It’s a tender, affecting and these days very much overlooked song.
“The Quiet Room” is another animal. No such ambiguity here. The protagonist is clearly, in the jargon of the day, in an insane asylum. And the material plays to Alice Cooper’s performative strengths, alternating in schizophrenic fashion from tender verses to unhinged choruses.
Alice Cooper is a brilliant singer actually, and sings in a variety of voices when a song calls for a variety of moods (or even multiple personalities on songs such as “Years Ago” and “Ballad of Dwight Fry”).
Okay so this may or may not send you back to listen more closely to Alice Cooper’s 70’s records. My main point is: the guy was a versatile and talented songwriter, one of the era’s best, and there’s a heck of a lot more to him than “School’s Out”.
Fittingly, Alice Cooper-fronted supergroup/side project Hollywood Vampires mostly covered dead rockers on their 2015 debut release.
Cooper, guitarist Joe Perry and Johnny Depp form the core of the band, with Cooper’s old pal Bob Ezrin producing and a stupifying list of guest stars dropping by throughout.
Guest vampires include Dave Grohl, Perry Farrell, Sir Paul McCartney, Slash, Joe Walsh, Robbie Krieger, Zak Starkey, Brian Johnson and Kip Winger.
The result is one raucous party of a record, with MC Alice bringing all his multiple vocal personalities to the mic as required to revive the spirits of legends such as Jim Morrison, T.Rex, John Lennon, Harry Nilsson, Badfinger and, on this burner of a track, Spirit’s Randy California.
Sacrilegious as it might sound, this supergroup’s performances might just out-do some of the originals.
Alice Cooper, “shock rocker”. Alice Cooper, recovered alcoholic. Alice Cooper, chicken killer. You know all the usual portrayals.
What you’re about to learn–if you watch this 2005 Australian TV interview–is that Alice is a mild-mannered, articulate, cultured kinda guy. And quite humorous too.
Sometimes, something suddenly appears that’s so unsettling, even the king of shock rock himself is startled. That’s what happened when Alice Cooper was forced to cancel his European tour in the midst of something scarier than what Cooper does in his notorious horror rock show.
“It’s strange times. I’ve never lived in a time when one infinitesimal thing that you can’t even see has literally stopped the entire world,” Cooper says, sounding astonished while speaking from his home in Arizona.
Cooper’s wife, Sheryl, is also on the call. She performs in her husband’s show (often portraying a psychotic nurse), and she seems stunned as she recounts the unexpected and abrupt end to their show in Berlin. As she tells it, they were told to “jump off the stage and go directly to our bus in full makeup and costumes.” Almost 24 hours of exhaustive travel later, they made it back to Phoenix – but they “got home, no food in the house, went to the grocery store, no food at the grocery store. What’s happening?”
The rock star Alice Cooper has found an Andy Warhol masterpiece that could be worth millions “rolled up in a tube” in a storage locker, where it lay forgotten for more than 40 years.
The work in question is a red Little Electric Chair silkscreen, from Warhol’s Death and Disaster series. Never stretched on a frame, it sat in storage alongside touring artefacts including an electric chair that Cooper used in the early 70s as part of his ghoulish stage show.
According to Shep Gordon, the singer’s longtime manager, Cooper and Warhol became friends at the famous Max’s Kansas City venue in New York City…