July 28, 2000

Glasgow Barrowlands

...even half-forgotten pearls like [B]'Black Widow'[/B] deserve a place in Metal's mighty canon.

It starts with a torso. A talking, shackled torso. With large hair. "Leave now...!" warns our limb-free compere, portentously flapping his heavily-teased mane. "Before it's too late!"

Well, he would say that, wouldn't he? After all, Alice Cooper - Prince Of Ridiculousness, God Of Glam and golf-playing Pariah Of The People - offers anything but a comfortable concert 'happening'. Instead, Cooper's slide into middle-age has signalled an admirable refusal to mend his misanthropic ways, seeking out new methods of visual and aural mayhem.

Hence Mr Torso. Hence a two-headed baby, a guillotine and a veritable crypt-load of whip-cracking dominatrices. Hence, also the comeback album (and tonight's raison d'jtre), 'Brutal Planet' - a collection of riff-heavy mor(t)ality tales that combines heavy metal bravado with - and here's the rub - indomitable wit.

Music may play second fiddle to the gaudy, hilarious pantomime that is the Alice Cooper experience, but tonight, it's clear there's more to his oeuvre than outrage alone. There are the usual suspects, of course- the sing-a-long AOR genius of 'Poison', the tremendous glam racket of 'School's Out' - but even half-forgotten pearls like 'Black Widow' deserve a place in Metal's mighty canon.

Naturally, it's all utterly preposterous. But if great pop music is delineated by its ability to simultaneously entertain and outrage, then Alice Cooper - half-man, half-myth, all legend - is its rightful Godfather. Truly, we're not worthy.