"As spry and chaotic as the snake-wielding youngster that terrified conservative parents back in the ’70s."
Alice Cooper @ Rod Laver Arena. Photos by Kikki MacLeod.
It’s a bizarre mix of generations and demographics as the crowd trickle their way into Rod Laver Arena - from the old guard squeezing into their original tour Ts from the '80s to the eyeliner-laden teens getting their first taste of a living legend. One thing’s for sure: black is the mandatory uniform.
Between the rain and the hordes of punters, many are unfortunate enough to miss the legendary MC50 crew. A rotating roster of megastars from the US rock scene, the celebratory line-up features members of the original MC5 band commemorating the 50th anniversary of their seminal Kick Out The Jams record - which paved the road for the booming US punk and garage scene. The group seem a little out of place opening a show that thrives on over the top and ridiculous theatrics, but the guys definitely haven’t lost a thing in that half-century.
An ungodly number of Marshall stacks and supercharged light beams are wheeled onto the stage, which can only mean one thing: Airbourne have arrived. Fresh off the back of their fifth studio release, the boys from Thornbury via Warrnambool are a little more than ecstatic to be back home for the night. Ready To Rock starts the set at an 11 and the band keep rising from there: from bassist Justin Street thrashing his long locks like a windmill in Burnout The Nitro to frontman Joel O’Keeffe hoisting himself aloft a railing after running straight through the crowd. It’s pub rock with an arena spectacle; AC/DC meets Def Leppard. All the pompous insanity that you could possibly want from a stadium gig - and it’s fucking glorious.
A curtain falls over the stage bearing a giant rendering of those infamous painted eyes - red spotlights beaming into the pupils. The chilling, carnivalesque sounds of Years Ago begin an overture as the lights fade and the curtain falls, revealing a full castle set complete with skulls, coffins and weaponry. Nothing out of the ordinary for an Alice Cooper show.
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The band kick off those stellar harmonies that open Feed My Frankenstein before Cooper bursts onto the stage in all his gothic glory. Getting straight into an immense double-header of No More Mr Nice Guy and Bed Of Nails, Cooper has clearly curated a very special setlist for this tour. It’s all the classics the crowd have come to expect, but peppered through a sea of old and new, lesser-known hits that even the die-hards weren’t expecting. This show is fan service of the highest order, and a chance for Cooper to go back through his incredible back catalogue.
One of the more surprising aspects of the show comes in Cooper’s enduring abilities as a songwriter. For all the classics the punters are going wild for, they’re just as loving and eager for his new work. 2017 track Fallen In Love gets a wild reception from the crowd and is seemingly just as loved as the proceeding Under My Wheels - a track now coming up on its own 50th anniversary. His tenure as the dark king of performance rock is far from over, and fans couldn’t be happier.
While guitarist Nita Strauss shreds that phenomenal solo on Poison, every band member gets their chance to shine. Cooper has recruited what is arguably his best backing band yet, and the team are an electric explosion of technical flair and terrific showmanship. Between the masked murderers that run wild on stage and the giant inflatable baby that terrorises the set, the group still hold their own as a spectacle to behold. Drummer Glen Sobel manages to pull the crowd into the palm of his hand with an extended drum solo while the band and Cooper head off for a quick costume change, delighting punters and showing that while there’s a clear star of the show, these supporting players aren’t phoning it in.
After a ridiculous and extravagant set of tunes amid something that could’ve come straight out of an old Dracula’s dinner theatre, Cooper and co return for one final punch of rock’n’roll brilliance. There’s not a single person in attendance that doesn’t recognise the opening of AC/DC’s Dirty Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap) - recreated perfectly by guitarist Tommy Henriksen - before the team take a sharp turn and dive into Department Of Youth. The sound of a ringing bell echoes through the arena before the powerhouse riff in School's Out sets the crowd alight with excitement. Airbourne’s Joel O’Keeffe suddenly appears out of nowhere to take the first solo, before the group sneak in a phenomenal snippet of Pink Floyd’s Another Brick In The Wall. This mash-up shouldn’t work, but it does.
After half a decade in the game, Cooper hasn’t lost a single atom of that ferocious rock star capability for which he has become known. The 72-year-old is as spry and chaotic as the snake-wielding youngster that terrified conservative parents back in the ’70s. He’s a kitschy haunted house actor in the body of a bonafide legend, and that’s exactly how lit should be.