For all his household name and national treasure status, Alice Cooper is still very much an enigma. There are two distinct personalities at play. On the one hand, he is a Vaudeville showman, hawking around his macabre freakshow designed to shock and scare in equal measure. On the other hand, he is the custodian of probably one of the finest musical songbooks of the rock 'n' roll era. An Alice Cooper live performance is a fine-tuned balance between the two. As he sings in ‘Hello Hooray’ (sadly AWOL from tonight’s setlist) “Ready as this audience that's coming here to dream, Loving every second, every moment, every scream”. You go to Alice Cooper for a Circus of Horrors but packed with tracks that have perminated themselves into the rock lexicon. He is a living legend, with the musical credits to back up those credentials.

For these biannual pilgrimages to this country, Alice has always enlisted an interesting array of fellow travellers. Opening up this evening are young raucous punks The Meffs. Hailing from Essex, this stripped-back two-piece are dragging punk back to its DIY athletics. They have seen how their beloved genre has become cosy with the mainstream, and they don't like it. This is punk as a rallying cry, this punk is rebellion and this punk is a two-finger salute to anybody who is vaguely conventional. This all means that it lands rather oddly with an audience that, if we are honest, was too old for punk the first time around. There is quite a lot of squirming in seats and that ultra-polite “Ryder Cup” clapping at the end of songs. The Meffs proved themselves to be a firecracker of a live act, but sadly beyond the converted upfront, they leave little impression.

If there are two Alice Cooper’s then there are at least three Primal Scream’s. There is the blissed-out gospel rave Primal Scream of the timeless and era-defining “Screamadelica. Then there is the Agit-pop anti-establishment disruptors of “Vanishing Point” and the absolutely essential “XTRMNTR”. Finally, there is the immaculately authentic southern baked rock 'n' roll of “Give Out but Don't Give Up” and “Riot City Blues”. Tonight we get a blurring of the first and the last of those caricatures, but wrapped up in the façade of a band that don't quite know what they are doing here. It all starts slowly as they unveil not one but three tracks from their yet-to-be-released new album. A room full of devote rockers are proactively indifferent to these indie trendsetters and look on with detached amusement.

The divine ‘I'm losing More than I'll Ever Have’ (plucked from the mists of time of their second-ever release) is also completely alien to the seated masses but enamours more of a response because of its luscious bluesy refrains. Then they kick in to ‘Loaded’ and suddenly in a collective bout of recognition, the audience en-masse foster a fitting level of acknowledgement. It is like as one they have suddenly realised who it is. Bobby Gillespie is not one to suffer fools gladly. People begin to engage as they slide into ‘Movin’ on Up’  but he wants more and sadly he isn’t getting it. He berates us for being the quietest audience of the tour so far and the way he mumbles Alice's name in an offhand manner illustrates that it may not be having the best of times.

‘Country Girl’ and ‘Rocks’ are both well-known rock anthems, collectively smuggling themselves into the annals of rock radio. Understandably the reaction and atmosphere peaks as they are rolled out at the climax of the set. We suddenly get clapping; we suddenly get reaction and Bobby looks vaguely satisfied. Primal Scream at the best can be the most incendiary magnificent of live beasts. Tonight, might have been rescued by the hits but it was still very much a case of a classic band very much out of their comfort zone.

This evening is an interestingly stripped-down version of the Alice Cooper show. The theatrics are very much stacked towards the end of the 90-minute spectacular, which means for the first hour or so it is very much about the songs and the pedigree of the band. Luckily Alice comes up smelling of roses in both areas. 2024 marks the 60th anniversary of his entry into show business and during that time he has amassed one of hell of a back catalogue. Aside from opener ‘Welcome to the Show’ he is making no pretence to promote last year's “Road” and instead just leans back on that immaculate song book.

There are so many bangers at his disposable that he is able to dispense with them as a machine gun pace. ‘No More Mister Nice Guy’, ‘I’m Eighteen’, ‘Under my Wheels’ and ‘Billion Dollar Babies’ all come careering out of the traps early doors. It is one of those shows where you don’t even consider a sly toilet visit or trip to the bar as the hits cascade out at an alarming rate. One of the ways Alice Cooper has managed to remain relevant for so many decades is that he continually musically reinvents himself and his songs. ‘Be My Lover’ is completely reimagined as a glam rock stomper and the previously disregarded ‘He’s back (the Man Behind the Mask)’ is shorn of all its synthetic 80s glitz and instead pumped full of the exact amount of aggressive bile that the original was missing.

Which brings us neatly onto the other reason that Alice Cooper has managed to stay so relevant, his band. For over a decade his backing band has not just had a stable lineup, it has consisted of some of the most accomplished musicians in our world. They have evolved beyond mere session musicians flanking an established front man, to a tight and taut outfit that operates as a bonafide high octane rock 'n' roll band. Ryan Roxie, Chuck Garric and Tommy Henriksen have all worked with Alice so long they now take real ownership over his material. They fire out ‘Poison’, ‘Feed My Frankenstein’ and ‘Hey Stoopid’ with such passion and pizzazz that you would be hard pressed not to conclude that they have some role in their creation. And that's the point, the songs are now better because the musical competence of the band. 

However, the real ace up his sleeve is Nita Strauss. Her celebrity status and solo career may well have skyrocketed but somehow Alice Cooper has managed to retain her services. She is one of the most astonishing and talented musicians of the current generation, blending technical brilliance with raw passion. Her presence gives the whole thing an extra sheen and her guitar solo is spine tingling piece of beauty.

But an Alice Cooper show would not be Alice Cooper show without the carnival of horrors set pieces and they kick into gear with the aforementioned ‘Feed my Frankenstein’. A looming 12 foot grotesque facsimile of Alice stomps around the stage during the number doing its best to out Eddie Eddie. From then on we are into the theatre of the bizarre with a straightjacket-adorned Alice crooning the ‘Ballad of Dwight Fry’. He isn't restrained for long and is soon sticking his sword into anybody he can reach. This is of course a state of affairs that cannot be tolerated and in retaliation, the well-worn guillotine is rolled out and soon Mr Cooper's severed head is being paraded around the stage.

Of course it is a well-executed (pun intended) optical illusion and soon Alice is back on stage adorning a podium and begging us to elect him. Closing number ‘Schools Out’ may well be celebrating its 52nd birthday this year but it is still a fantastic full-throttle glam rock anthem. Whilst delivered by a 76-year-old man it is still riddled with youthful vigor and righteous rebellion. Flanked by a chunk of Pink Floyd’s ‘Another Brick in the Wall pt 2’, Alice uses it to introduce the band and bring the whole show to a climactic climax.

The fake blood, endless props and dressed up roadies may be baked into the Alice Cooper experience but the biggest takeaway is the strength and breadth of the back catalogue and the brilliance of the band. Alice may well be portrayed by Alice but beyond the spooky spectacle this is a unrepentant celebration of fifty five years of stunning song-smithery.

Check the “In The Flesh” page for more photos!
Alice Cooper + Primal Scream + The Meffs