A Wicked Show
Montreux Jazz Festival has surely never seen anything as terrifying as Alice Cooper, a man who couldn't do tame if he tried and still cuts a mean figure dressed in leather trousers and black make up and twirling a walking stick in a menacing fashion through rousing opener 'Department Of Youth' which mutates into 'No More Mr Nice Guy'.
New track 'Dirty Diamonds' begins with a haunting darkened stage and orchestral theatrics, before the guitars burst onto the scene with Cooper whipping a string of beads around, before throwing dozens of chains of the things to the audience during a wild guitar solo. 'Billion Dollar Babies' is as creepy and dramatic as the day it was written and Cooper sporting yet another prop: a sword covered in bank notes which he proceeds to swish around with the ease of a pirate. Cooper's band are of a fantastic standard, adopting all the right moves and playing with constant vigour and excitement. Indeed after 'Black Widow' where Cooper is vanished by a PVC underwear-clad vampire, the band get the stage to themselves and line up for some rocking action with a thundering drum solo equally matching the drive of the guitarists.
Acoustic 'I Never Cry' is a charismatic break, allowing Cooper's rich and snarling voice to take the lead. Naturally 'I'm Eighteen' is a venomous highlight with its lithe guitar solos. Cooper returns from on stage absence orchestrated by the aforementioned vampire in a new dressy red ruffled shirt and with the young creature of the night's whip between his teeth. Recent showstopper 'Gimme' leers and peaks with an ultra-modern but fitting breath of rap slipping in. Operatic 'The Awakening' shivers with tension before the arrival of a wild gymnastic nymph who feigns death at Cooper's feet during the trio of slower numbers concluded with 'Steven' and 'Only Women Bleed' which end with Cooper wrapped in a straight jacket. In black and white our bound anti-hero then serenades us with 'Ballad of Dwight Fry' before being beheaded by a full size guillotine and his head paraded around the stage to the fitting sound of 'I Love The Dead'.
Luckily for all Cooper is resurrected in a sleek white suit and top hat for the riot-inducing 'School's Out', which sees gigantic coloured balloons full of water strewn through the crowd. The encore couldn't be anything other than the seminal 'Poison', which has shivers running down my spine. Catchy 'Wish I Were Born In Beverly Hills' sees Cooper's daughter Calico playing the role of a celebrity airhead, before 'Under My Wheels' brings things to a climactic close.
This DVD shows clearly what a formidable showman Alice Cooper remains, while a CD compiles the best parts of the show into a neat audio format for in-car, in-jail or anywhere else appropriate-listening. There are no extras, but with such a frantic and compulsive show, they're just not necessary.