I grew up on Alice Cooper. My parents listened to a lot of 70s rock and my Dad has a set of vinyls that are my birthright. Among them, Billion Dollar Babies. Circa 1973. This particular album is electric green, totally vivid. (Whatever happened to great album artwork?) Which is fitting, to say the least. I listened to this album, and a lot of others, probably way more than I should have as a kid. My parents censored very little from me and while that sometimes made my comprehension of certain things a little hard, its something that I really appreciate now. In addition to being willfully passionate and opinionated, I also grew up with a deep seated appreciation for not only music, but spectacle. Some of the best musicians might not be the best showman- and vice versa. But the best shows, the most entertaining, are the ones that are both. In comes the hard rock, the metal, the industrial, the lights and pyrotechnics, the fake blood and the giant stage sets, the cross dressing and the showmanship.
But, the entertainment comes not only from shocking the audience with some fake blood and racy lyrics. It comes from tapping into that darker place in all of us. Alice Cooper is the king of this. It starts with actually making hard rock and heavy metal music. Music. The title song on Billion Dollar Babies is a great example of this. Talk about a great intro. Heavy drums which meld with this almost hypnotic guitar and bass. The signature riff on this song is almost sexy, it's so raw. Cooper's voice alternates between soothing and then grating. It's scary because of it's unpredictability. He matches his vocals with all the individual beats and rises of the song which makes it sound like he's manipulating the whole song, like he's the one in control of the whole show. (Which isn't entirely fair to other members of the band...) That control, that manipulation instead of the charisma and charm- that's part of the shock. Cooper's not going to woo you- but everyone loves a bad boy, right?
And they just don't make guitar solos like they used to.
The lyrics are... dirty. But, not in an overt way. The song is about a "dimestore doll". However you want to take that. And, erm. How do I put this? We go dancing, nightly in the attic. While the moon is rising in the sky... And if I'm too rough, tell me. I'm so scared your little head will come off, in my hands. Very few of us actually want to live dangerously. For all the times that music connects us with emotions that we know all too well or other people or even all the times that I think music can heal us, I think there are also times where music provides a total escape from reality. It's like a book or movie or even TV in that way. Music like this provides a chance to live vicariously, to feel thrilled and intoxicated. A chance to get a little grimy without actually ever getting your hands dirty.