Live Review: Alice Cooper, Ace Frehley

It's mayhem around Rod Laver Arena as punters queue at two different box offices to collect/exchange tickets due to this show's venue upgrade from Margaret Court Arena to Rod Laver Arena. Some fans get to the gate only to be told they need to change their tickets over at the box office, others queue for lengthy periods only to be redirected to the other box office where they must queue all over again. It takes an hour for this reviewer to collect tickets and so Ace Frehley is in full swing as we race down to our seats.  

After consulting a neighbour in the crowd, we're gutted to discover we missed 2000 Man. Frehley's band are absolute guns and anyone who was sceptical about how Frehley will measure up is immediately silenced. The ball-tearing Rip It Out leads into Love Gun and drummer Scot Coogan obliterates his kit. Gotta love a good old-fashioned '80s drum riser and stick tricks - bring that shit back! It's fantastic to hear these songs played live and all bar bassist Chris Wyse, who often takes lead vocals, leave the stage to shine a spotlight on his extraordinary and eerie bass solo, during which there's lots of whooping and a healthy clap-along. New York Groove is a set highlight and we're directed to sing along in arena sections  - "On the side"/"Down the back!" - to great effect. 

"The world's going crazy," Frehley observes, before reeling off a list of recent natural disasters. "I tell ya what," he continues, "it doesn't bother me and it doesn't Shock Me!" Nice segue! This band's technical virtuosity is next-level. Multiple band members leave the stage once more (Coogan kind of crouching behind his kit and mopping his brow with a towel) and this time it's Frehley's turn to solo. Smoke literally pours from his guitar then he changes axes, taking another guitar solo - making his instrument squeal on command -  before his bandmates return for the matchless Detroit Rock City ("Get up!"/"Get down!"). The rapid onstage riffing could start a fire in the dampest of conditions and Frehley concludes, "Thank you, Melbourne. You guys rock!" Cheers, Frehley, you guys rock also!  

The Godfather Of Shock Rock Alice Cooper's own music plays over the venue sound system during intermission - why make people wait? There's a creepy voice-over, bass and drums rumble menacingly up through our feet and seats, sparks rain down and then on struts Coops, resplendent in black cape. Cooper spins his cane to the beat like a goth cheerleader. The applause is deafening as he stands on his custom riser, front and centre surveying his minions before flinging off his cape. And we thought Frehley's band was killer! Cooper's band embodies rock'n'roll and we're regularly left shaking our heads in disbelief at their brilliance.

It's all meticulously choreographed, but this doesn't strip the feeling of rock'n'roll spontaneity — it's somehow enhanced. Even the pyros are perfectly timed to guitar solos! Drummer Glen Sobel pounds his kit so hard we expect it to break into bits; there's measured power behind every beat. The live version of Department Of Youth is markedly different from its recorded counterpart - much more showy and complex in the hands of Cooper's marvellous band. Backdrops regularly drop to the floor revealing different scenes underneath and no one injects theatre into a rock show as successfully as Cooper. Billion Dollar Babies writhes seductively and we'd do anything for some of the souvenir bucks from Coops' fencing foil that he shakes into the crowd during this song. Incomparable guitarist Nita Strauss plays with such intense feeling that we're reminded of Slash's famous The Godfather-theme solo.

Who doesn't love a bit of Poison? Sadly all remain in seats, but the singalong is voracious: "I wanna love you but I better not touch/DON'T TOUCH!!!" When the rest of the band subtly leave the stage ahead of Sobel's drum solo, we're speechless while suspecting he's actually an octopus when his beats blur into a galloping rumble. The duelling guitar section is ridiculously hot. When all four axe experts invade Cooper's riser at the front of the stage, we actually check each other's faces suspecting they've melted for real.  

Feed My Frankenstein is always a highlight as the giant Frankenstein staggers around the stage and vocal effects make it sound as if this monstrosity is now taking verses: "Meet my libido/He's a psycho." Only Women Bleed brings things down a notch, adding some texture. And we could never tire of watching Cooper's wife Sheryl in her role as demented, sadistic nurse terrorising a straight-jacketed Coops. This leads into the guillotine scene (and, no, we still can't figure out how they bloody well do it no matter how closely we stare without blinking!). Cooper absolutely nails manipulation of props, whether it's a cane, crutch or foil. Main set closer I'm Eighteen destroys us completely.

Encore track School's Out brings all the bells and whistles and a portion of Pink Floyd's Another Brick In The Wall ("We don't need no education") masterfully intersects Cooper's song while oversized beach balls in various bright colours are vollied around the arena and ticker-tape cannons detonate. Coops introduces his band of virtuosos, pointing out Tommy Henriksen is from Melbourne with much excitement. "Look what just came in from Hollywood: Hurricane Nita!" Cooper enthuses before hilariously introducing himself: "And playing the role of Alice Cooper tonight [pauses for dramatic effect] MEEEeeee!" He (of course) prematurely wishes us, "Happy Halloween!" And then finally declares, "You're all paranormal!"

Fans wander towards exits looking like the walking dead with maniacal grins. One crowd member is overheard opining upon departure, "He could've showed us something different," but we couldn't disagree more. Imagine seeing Coops sans massive Frankenstein or execution scene? He's nearly 70, has celebrated misfits since the '60s and we'll never tire of experiencing Cooper's phenomenal live show.