New Single and Old Stories from the Shock Rock King

Hard to believe that Alice Cooper’s new single, “Keepin’ Halloween Alive”, packs more punch than any 10 new rock songs combined, especially when you consider the fact that the Shock Rock King has, as the song says, “kept Halloween alive since 1965.” But there you have it.

Of course it helps that here Alice is backed by axemen Piggy D. (of Rob Zombie’s band) and Dave Pino (Powerman 5000), two of the few new(er) jacks who can stand toe-to-toe with Detroit’s original glam-slammer. Still, it is Alice alone who leads this thrashfest. And why wouldn’t he? It’s been his kinda holiday all along.

“At home, my family all gathers around an old, spooky tree decorated with skulls and bones in the living room, and we exchange gifts,” Cooper says. “It’s our holiday. We even all have matching black-and-orange Halloween sweaters! I wanted a theme song for people like me, and for us, Halloween never ends.”

Nor will it ever. Not if Cooper has anything to say about it. Caught on the current “Theatre of Death” tour, Cooper seems intent on maintaining his place atop a very ghoulish heap. In fact, at one point, after being sentenced to a beheading for impaling an errant roadie, Cooper emerges, Hamlet-like, holding his own head in his hands before launching into “Welcome to My Nightmare.” And that’s just the first of four deaths he faces during the 90-minute spectacle.

But Cooper—who’s had Groucho Marx pop backstage and call him “the last hope for vaudeville” and has Vincent Price introduce his shows—has always been something of a grand theater piece. And “Theatre of Death,” with its guillotine and gallows, chainsaws and straitjacket, is simply another over-the-top chapter in an incredibly storied tradition.

What compounds the spooky fun is that Cooper makes sure his whole crew gets in on the action too, no matter what their particular job title might be.

“I remember going to the circus, to a small circus,” he explains. “The guy that sold me the tickets was the guy who was walking the tightrope and the lion tamer. That’s what the circus should be. I’ve got 25 people [on my crew]. So, you’re not just a truck driver, you’re the executioner.

“It’s so funny because people look forward to that,” he continues. “Most guys are roadies. They go out there, ‘I’m the drum tech.’ Well, no. You’re not the drum tech; you’re the zombie, you’re this, you’re that.”

Still, even with all the trappings, Cooper wouldn’t have half the desired effect if the music didn’t bring back many fond memories. And whether he’s kicking out “School’s Out” (which bookends each show), smashing into “I’m Eighteen”, or crooning through “Only Women Bleed” and “I Never Cry”, all his songs continue to touch some very sensitive nerves. Alice knows it, too.

“I hate to rehearse [the old songs],” he says. “But when I get onstage and ‘No More Mr. Nice Guy’ starts, or ‘Billion Dollar Babies’, or any of those songs start, the audience, the look on their face… it’s like the look of recognition. It’s awesome.”

And Cooper is quick to point out that he knows the thrilling feeling all too well himself.

“I went to see McCartney,” he says. “I’ve known Paul for 35 years. I saw him backstage and I said, ‘Let me see a set list.’ And I looked at it and I said, ‘This is great.’ I’m sitting in the front row with my wife and he did ‘I Saw Her Standing There.’ And I was 16 again, jumping up and down going, ‘Yeah!’ I mean, it’s funny what songs will do to you; they will take you back to a certain era in your life.”

In other words, Cooper “absolutely” knows what it’s like to be a fan as well as a star, “especially with the Beatles and the Rolling Stones and the Who. I went to see the Who and they did ‘Substitute’ and these songs, and I’m thinking, ‘These are the songs I did when I was 16.’”

Fans, of course, especially fans with bands of their own, are most likely to cover their favorites too. And Cooper is no exception.

“We knew every Yardbirds song. We could play any Yardbirds song. We knew most of the Rolling Stones songs, up to High Tide and Green Grass. We knew every Beatles song. The Kinks, the Animals, Them—all those bands. That’s what we learned how to play.”

And as a fan with a budding band, Cooper even got to share the stage with some of his heroes.

“We were 16 years old and we were called the Spiders, and we opened for the Yardbirds. And we did all of their songs in front of them. It was in a club. They actually stood there and they watched us play and they were giving us the thumbs up. They would go, ‘This is great!’

“And how about this for a lineup: Jeff Beck on guitar, Jimmy Page on bass—because at that time, Page was not good enough to play guitar with the Yardbirds.”

Beyond opening for and touring with some of rock’s most hallowed names, Cooper has also hung out with some of the best of them. And he’s seen up close and personal the kind of craziness that ensues when rock stars become unhinged. Craziest of the crazies, he insists, was the Who’s Keith Moon.