Review: Alice Cooper – Edinburgh Playhouse

Back in October Mrs QR and I caught the opening gig of the UK leg of Alice Cooper’s ‘Too Close For Comfort’ tour at the OVO Hydro. 8 months later, he was kind enough to rock up to the Edinburgh Playhouse – within walking distance of our front door; it would have been rude not to stop by to see how he was getting on.

It seems he and his travelling band of players are in fine fettle indeed.

Since that superb Glasgow showing, supported by chirpy punk duo The Meffs and Scottish Alt-Rock Treasures Primal Scream, he’s picked up a new opener in the shape of Sîan Greenaway’s Glam-Prog-Rock alter-ego, Bobbie Dazzle.

Pitched somewhere between Jethro Tull, The Sweet and Head East, this cat-suited traveller from the 70’s blasted through a ~30 minute set plucked from debut album ‘Fandabidozi’ released last year. No dear reader, Bobbie’s disc isn’t a tribute to The Krankies, but a riff-packed clutch of songs conjured from synth, flute, guitar and drums.

Harder live than on the disc, they made a big, bright and energised sound, but Bobbie herself wasn’t forward enough in the mix. Maybe the urge to blast a packed house of Alice fans out of their seats led to a few bad decisions during sound check, or maybe she just picked up a bad mic prone to cutting out.

Bobbie and the band put on a decent show, nevertheless, and if the crowd weren’t completely sold on a cover of Abba’s ‘Watch Out’, ‘Antique Time Machine’ and ‘Merry-Go-Round’ stood out as potentially catchy numbers. I won’t have been the only one to have been pleasantly surprised by the recordings afterwards. The challenge for Bobbie’s second album will be to graduate from pastiche into a more original space (and to soundcheck more carefully when taking it on the road.)

“It seems he [Alice] and his travelling band of players are in fine fettle indeed.”

A short break then, and masked plague doctors were ringing the bells of Alice Cooper’s imminent arrival. Cue a one-two punch of ‘Lock Me Up’ and ‘Welcome to the Show’ – immediately bringing the audience to their feet, where they would remain until the lights came up.

Unfortunately, the sound balance wasn’t great at the start, with the vocals pretty much swamped by a muscular, dynamic band. A few tweaks by the mixing desk improved this by the end of the opener, though Alice’s lower range remained missing in action through the show. On the other hand, it’s far from the worst crime ever committed against sound design (see my review of The Doobie Brothers), and the qualities of the show more than outweighed this particular flaw.

Catching Alice at the Playhouse was a particular treat. Huge by theatrical standards (the second largest in the UK), it’s intimate compared to an arena. The big screens, which made the band visible to the ‘cheap’ seats in the Hydro, were a nice-to-have for this outing.

A Brucie bonus, and a first for our time in the Playhouse, was the free exchange of sweat flying between the rows. If he comes back, and I hope he will, I’m bringing a towel. Damp as things got, however, it was still a cracking chance for everyone present to see Alice and his crew up close.

And there’s always plenty to see at an Alice Cooper concert, whether he’s cold-heartedly directing his band about like so many lackeys, or arranging the murders of would-be stage invaders. This being an Alice Cooper concert, he was, of course, duly beheaded for his crimes, much to everyone’s enjoyment. “Do it, Do it!” chanted the crowd as his loving wife, Sheryl Cooper oversaw proceedings in full Marie Antoinette garb.

You’ll just have to go to the next concert to see what the show’s lead dancer and choreographer does with the severed head…

All of this is precisely what you should expect from a chap who announces ‘No More Mr. Nice Guy’, runs over his pestering girlfriend with ‘Under My Wheels’, before driving the replacement, ‘…like a hammer on a bed of nails’ within the first 30 minutes. Alice Cooper is a villain, though you wouldn’t guess it from the naked joy rippling through an audience doubling as a backing group for every iconic number.

“…a one-two punch of ‘Lock Me Up’ and ‘Welcome to the Show’ – immediately bringing the audience to their feet, where they would remain until the lights came up.”

Each song is a mini-production, delivered by an outrageously talented gang of musicians, and fronted by old black-eyes in imperious form. If long-time accomplices, guitarists Nita Strauss, Ryan Roxie and Tommy Henriksen, bassist Chuck Garric and drummer Glen Sobel are remotely bored of playing some of these songs for the 1000th time, it doesn’t show. It doubtless helps that Alice’s songbook is one of the richest in rock music, and that each muso gets ample opportunity to show off their improved virtuosity.

As for Alice, who’s been singing most of these songs for decades, he delivers each one with both barrels, sword or whip in hand; the unquestioned master of ceremonies.

Picking a highlight is difficult when every number is delivered with such gusto, but ‘Lost in America’ is terrific fun, whilst the rock-metal ride of ‘Poison’ would be a monstrous hit in any era.

At 77, Alice is clearly going strong, but still makes full use of his gifted band, leaving them to hold the stage whilst he retires for a costume change, and knowing Alice’s fondness for fitness, a pint of electrolytes. Sobel lays it down roughly mid-way with a solo drum extravaganza worthy of a roar, whilst an instrumental dive into the ‘Black Widow Jam’ puts the spotlight squarely on the guitars. It’s smart, entertaining stuff, and as much about giving others a chance to shine as giving Alice a moment to breathe.

Plus, this is a stage show: Alice can’t make multiple triumphant arrivals if he doesn’t get off the stage now and again.

“Picking a highlight is difficult when every number is delivered with such gusto, but ‘Lost in America’ is terrific fun, whilst the rock-metal ride of ‘Poison’ would be a monstrous hit in any era.”

The rest of the concert proceeded as it began, through the light-hearted necrophilia of ‘Cold Ethyl’ into the asylum with ‘Ballad of Dwight Fry’ and the mandatory bulldozer of ‘Schools Out’, complete with a ‘Another Brick in the Wall’ insert. The energy never seems to fail at an Alice Cooper concert, each song taken out and blasted out like the show just opened. I don’t think it’s actually possible not to enjoy an Alice Cooper concert.

The audience, of course, demanded an encore and got one with ‘Feed My Frankenstein’, complete with a monster. Those of a certain vintage will remember Wayne and Garth getting down on their knees before Alice to proclaim ‘We’re not Worthy!” shortly after he waxes lyrical about his psycho libido. They were right.

“The energy never seems to fail at an Alice Cooper concert, each song taken out and blasted out like the show just opened.”

He ended the night paying his own tribute by saying goodnight to Ozzy Osbourne and leading a celebratory chant with the audience. Who other than the departed Prince of Darkness would warrant tears from rock’s original Villain?

All Images: Annie Quinn for theQR.co.uk