Metal

In this, the month of Gothmas; the evenings have drawn in, inviting all the beautiful creeps out into the darkness. Ahem, ok I mean me. I am out traversing the canalways of Brindley Place in Birmingham to get to the Utilita Arena tonight for the one and only, Gothfather of Shock Rock – Alice freakin’ Cooper.

The Meffs

Up first tonight are edgy Essex duo The Meffs, a rowdy powerhouse of shouty punk. ‘Stamp It Out’ and ‘Broken Britain, Broken Brains’ are belted out with force, but their whole style absolutely requires a front standing section of moshing teenagers… and instead we have seated VIP’s.

‘Stand Up, Speak Out’ gets a better audience participation level, as the crowd warms up and remembers their angsty youth origins, as it’s easy to get into. I also enjoy their cover of The Prodigy’s ‘Breathe’, but their real stand out moment is a very punk middle finger; “This is a Love Song to the British government, it’s called Clowns”.

It’s a short and sweet set, bookended by a promise that they’re coming back “sometime in January”, and I think I’ll be trying to catch up with them then – in hopefully a more fitting environment where I can do some thrashing around.

Primal Scream

Strutting onto the stage in a sparkling diamanté pinstriped suit, lead singer Bobbie Gillespie with his signature sullen-faced swagger, surveys the crowd. The band kick off with ‘Love Insurrection’ but a couple of bars in, Gillespie motions everyone to stop. “Wait stop, we fucked that up. Start again… it happens.”

The second try, “Oh there we go, the right key this time” is a smooth transition into their unique blend of funky electronic rock. The gorgeous soaring melody of the trio of backing vocalists really comes alive in ‘Ready To Go Home’, but the overall vibe in the room is left slightly flat by the complete seating area in the front. Primal Scream are a band to boogie to, and every other time I’ve seen them has been at festivals with room to groove, which just… isn’t this. Despite the rock-block of the setup, when Gillespie says “30 years ago we released Screamadelica… I dont know if you guys and girls know it… the first song was called ‘Movin’ On Up’. So if you want to sing along please do” the collective sigh of relief around the audience was palpable – here’s a song we can all sing along to – and we do. ‘Country Girl’ is an exercise in weaving that evangelical deep south church sound into a Glaswegian ditty, but it has the hook I can’t deny. Gillespie yells “Ladies, Gentlemen, Creatures, Thats theys and thems… let me fuckin hear you!” before they plough into their final iconic song ‘Rocks’ to end the set.

Alice Cooper

Slicing through a giant newspaper sheet printed with ‘BANNED IN ENGLAND’, using a cutlass, and employing one of the most iconic resting-bitch-faces in the world? Peak Alice Cooper behaviour. After this most excellent entrance, Alice is front and centre in his signature top-hat and leather trousers garb – sporting three belts and a frilly shirt, launching straight into ‘Welcome To The Show’. I am glad we as a country, have stopped trying to actually ban Alice Cooper from performing here, extremely embarrassing (three times) for us. Not that we don’t have other things to be embarrassed about, mind.

From the off, it is clear that Alice’s voice and energy is still absolutely top notch – something I can’t say about most other performers who’ve been going as long. The man is 76 and he’s careening around the stage and now swinging a crutch above his head like it’s nothing. ‘No More Mr. Nice Guy’ features a quick change into a custom battle jacket (which I would dearly like to pilfer), followed by a confetti gun used to spray the crowd in sparkly faux money for ‘Billion Dollar Babies’.

Bombshell guitarist Nita Strauss is absolutely ripping it up, under the watchful awe-struck eye of Alice. One thing I will note is that there is space made on this stage for every single artist to take the spotlight, and Alice showers all of them with reverence. It’s a nice thing to see from an artist as singular as he is, on the face of it.

Throwing a black cane to a fan on the front row, in order to take up his giant yellow snake who seems completely unbothered by the huge crowd, and is instead trying to see what guitarist Ryan Roxie is doing. I couldn’t find out the name of this snake (if anyone knows, hit me up) but I would like to do a quick mention of some of Alice’s previous snake-pals because they’re too good not to share. So big ups to; Julius Squeezer, Cobra Winfrey and Count Strangula. During a musical reprieve Alice can be seen just chatting to the snake and pointing things out to it, and now I have a vision of him walking around Birmingham taking his snake on a tour of the sights.

‘Lost In America’ sees Alice in a flag-adorned leather jacket, and he plays at murdering actors playing photographers (I do feel slightly targeted…) with the opening bars of the anthemic ‘Hey Stoopid’. The green lighting pulsing across the crowd now reveals a much more lively atmosphere, as people are standing and dancing along.

Two giant sets of prop stairs are wheeled around to face the crowd, with Alice atop one, bathed in spotlights and smoke for ‘Welcome To My Nightmare’, followed by his rather rough treatment of a very Sia-esque mannequin during ‘Cold Ethyl’. I also love him for brandishing four bulbous yellow maracas, and I’m not sure if they really are an instrument that can be played seductively – but he’s managing it, in a Gomez Addams sort of way.

 An enormous cheer ripples around the arena for the iconic notes of ‘Poison’, and Alice is now rocking a gorgeous burgundy brocade jacket and a riding crop – another amazing souvenir for a lucky front row fan later on. ‘Feed My Frankenstein’ will never fail to give me chills, but I am a child of the Wayne’s World generation I guess. The giant stumbling monster comes out to lurk behind the guitarists, and he has more than a slight resemblance to Ozzy Osbourne with those upturned palms and shambling gait. I don’t think it’s on purpose, but we are in Birmingham so who knows.

‘Black Widow’ features on screen clips of Vincent Price, and an incredible Nita solo, before Alice’s straitjacket scene for ‘Ballad of Dwight Fry’. Kneeling on the riser, in a perfect beam of white light but uplit in green, Alice looks delightfully unhinged whilst being ‘tasered’ by his on-stage goons. Now enter Alice’s actual wife Sheryl Cooper, in her Marie Antionette get-up, to take him to the guillotine and then dance with his disembodied head. Each time I have seen this bit, I have wanted the head to sing along, alas.

‘Elected’ uses one of the stair sets now covered in stars and stripes, as a pulpit for Alice’s presidential speech (and yes he is still in the straitjacket, a nice touch). There’s a barrage of red white and blue spotlighting, and streamers sprayed out into the front rows, before the stage goes dark. As the school-bell rings, the lights go up on a stage filled with smoke-bubbles and Alice in a white tailcoat and tophat, brandishing another cane. Giant balloons are pushed out into the crowd and when they’re batted back to the stage, he pops them with a blade to expose bursts of sparkling confetti within.

“Birmingham England… Alice Cooper finally speaks to you!” he laughs, and introduces all of the members of the band, who have been predictably phenomenal tonight, ending with “She’s deadly, she’s delicious, she’s my one and only… Sheryl Cooper! …and playing the part of Alice Cooper tonight… big lights on… ME!”

“It’s great to be back in Birmingham, and it’s almost Halloween… so from all of us – to all of you, may all of your nightmares be horrific, Goodnight!” Alice bows to the audience. I would see Alice Cooper on every night of this tour if I could, standing front and centre. There is something quite magical about this type of show, that I don’t think is going to be on the menu in 20 years, which is a bit sad. Immersion, theatre, a willingness to take life with a pinch of whimsy – alongside truly iconic music, taken as a tonic in an uncomfortable world.

In the immortal words of Wayne Campbell and Garth Algar, we truly are not worthy.

SETLIST

1. Lock Me Up (Shortened)
2. Welcome to the Show
3. No More Mr. Nice Guy
4. I’m Eighteen
5. Under My Wheels
6. Bed of Nails
7. Billion Dollar Babies
8. Snakebite
9. Be My Lover
10. Lost in America
11. He’s Back (The Man Behind the Mask)
12. Hey Stoopid
13. Drum Solo (Glen)
14. Welcome to My Nightmare
15. Cold Ethyl
16. Go to Hell
17. Poison
18. Feed My Frankenstein
19. The Black Widow (Vincent Price segment)
20. Guitar Solo (Nita)
21. Black Widow Jam (Full Band Solo)
22. Ballad of Dwight Fry
23. I Love the Dead (Opened with Killer snippet)
24. Elected

Encore:

25. School’s Out (With Another Brick in the Wall snippet & band introductions)
26. I’m Alice