Way back in 1972, Alice Cooper satirically ran for president, and he’s continued the schtick every four years, maintaining the slogan “A Troubled Man for Troubled Times.” Some things never change. Among his previous hard-hitting campaign promises- adding Lemmy to Mount Rushmore, a snake in every pot, and mandatory cupholders on every airplane seat. This year marks his sixtieth (!) year as a performer and, troubled times or not, he’s still at it. After seven albums as part of the band Alice Cooper, he legally changed his name (from Vincent Damon Furnier), went solo with “Welcome to My Nightmare” and has never looked back.

In the theatrical ‘70s, rock was still young and Cooper’s combination of horror tropes, vaudeville bombast, Rolling Stones energy, Bowie androgyny, garage rock and Detroit grit made a huge splash and influenced how music was staged and viewed. It’s been a gas to see him evolve from a shock rocker to an almost avuncular elder statesmen (viz. his appearances on The Muppets or in Wayne’s World – we’re not worthy!). Much like Snoop Dogg at The Olympics, Cooper has transcended music to become a beloved cultural icon. Bands that share his DNA (like Marilyn Manson and Rob Zombie) are still edgy enough to be lethal, but hey, Alice used to live in Chicago and his parents lived in my sedate neighborhood. I once saw him at O’Hare airport picking up his golf bag, so it’s kind of hard to be afraid of him. His current tour is called “Too Close for Comfort,” but I’d happily hang out and play a quick nine with him.

School’s still out for summer, but with pallets of Halloween candy already stacking up in the stores, summer is waning quickly. What better way to celebrate a humid Ohio summer night than hanging with Mr. Cooper?

There was no opener; when you have a catalog and stage show like Alice’s, that would be superfluous. Two plague doctors took the stage, ringing bells as a giant faux newspaper pronounced Alice “Banned in Ohio” and on trial for deeds against humanity. Robert Englund’s voice accused Alice of mass mental cruelty and Alice proudly pleaded, “Guilty!” as he burst out in a top hat, leather pants, and a trench coat. The band tore into “Lock Me Up” as Cooper commanded the stage, mock-sneering, “I'm back in your dreams /You can take my head and cut it off /But you ain't gonna change my mind /If you don't like it you can lock me up” as the band chanted soccer-stadium style, “Woah oh oh oh oh!”

Last year’s “Welcome to the Show” sounded like vintage Alice crossed with Thin Lizzy and it could easily fit in his classic catalog. It’s a banger that shows he’s not afraid to poke a bit of fun at his image: “My time is here, my time is now/I play the creature 'cause I know how…” as his band pumped him up “You’re so cool, you’re all the rage!”.
 
The setlist was packed with classics and “No More Mr. Nice Guy” and “Billion Dollar Babies” still rock hard. “I’m Eighteen” has always had an unnerving edge to it, and that edge was amped up with the crowd energy and Cooper’s delivery. The doo wop vocals and “Sweet Jane” chords of “Be My Lover” sounded cheery and upbeat, and I’ve always loved the reflexive lyric, “She asked me why the singer’s name was Alice, I said, ‘Listen baby you really wouldn’t understand’”

“Lost in America” was rousing, echoing the structure of Elvis Costello’s’ from “Pump it Up” and the Beastie Boys’ “Fight for Your Right to Party” and combining circular logic and tongue-in-cheek whingeing:

“I can't get a girl /'Cause I ain't got a car
I can't get a car/'Cause I ain't got a job
I can't get a job'/Cause I ain't got a car
So I'm looking for a girl with a job and a car
Don't you know where you are?

Lost in America!”

A few songs in, the sky split open, and rain, thunder, and lightning peppered the pavilion. Thankfully, Rose is covered, so the show went on with the bonus of the weather mirroring the projected lightning and rain sounds on “Welcome to My Nightmare”, inadvertently creating a cool meshing of fantasy and reality. “Welcome to My Nightmare” is a Halloween staple and will be playing non-stop shortly, but “Cold Ethyl” should also be in rotation for spooky season; the song is so fun that the dark lyrics glide by before your brain processes how ghastly they are:

“One thing, no lie
Ethyl's frigid as an Eskimo Pie
She's cool in bed
And she ought to be...'cause Ethyl's dead!”

All that augmented with Cooper flinging a mannequin around the stage. Poor Ethyl.

The concert was constructed more like a performance piece or Broadway show than a typical rock show. There was no, “How you doing tonight?” banter; in fact, Cooper didn’t address the crowd until the end when he introduced the band. But you don’t go a stage show expecting banter, it’s about the theatricality, and the crowd was into it, most of them standing for the entire show.

Cooper was in fine voice and was constantly moving, changing costumes, stalking the stage, playing with props like a fencing foil or walking stick. He’s 76, but he sure doesn’t look it. His crack band moved seamlessly in and out of songs and when Cooper left the stage to prep for the next song, they began an incendiary jam on “Black Widow”, the three guitarists traded off leads and positions on the monitors. They are all incredible players, but Nita Strauss really shone. She’s a versatile, fluid, and charismatic performer and Cooper’s not-so-secret weapon.

As strong as the music was, the visuals added a lot of fun, giddy moments: a giant Frankenstein towering over Cooper during “Feed My Frankenstein”, projected dancing skeletons and a Grand Guignol-red stage for “Go to Hell”, Cooper singing “Snakebite” with a big snake draped around his neck, the queasy Joker-style green and purple lights for “Poison”, showers of fake money during “Billion Dollar Babies” and a bubble show during “School’s Out” that would make Lawrence Welk green with envy.

The highlight of theatricality was “Ballad of Dwight Fry.” It’s been a staple since 1971 and it’s still mind-blowing. Cooper kneeled at the front of the stage, singing in a white straitjacket as he was jabbed with cattle prods, beat up, and finally led to a guillotine where he was dramatically beheaded. It’s all grand theater and there’s never any real danger, but it’s done well enough to entertain some doubt for a split second.

The main set closed with a spirited version of “Elected” with Alice standing on a tall podium draped in American flags, still clad in his loosened straitjacket. After a brief pseudo exit, the band came back and closed the show with a killer “School’s Out”, introducing the band and mashing the tune-up with a bit of Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in Wall Pt. 2” as Alice popped giant balloons filled with red, white and blue confetti and the crowd chanted along with the band.

Get it out of your systems kids, it won’t be long until school starts again. As for Alice Cooper, he may still be troubled after all these years, but man is it a fun ride. Catch him before he hangs up his top hat – or finally gets elected.