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Originally Published: April 01, 1987
Author: James Muretich
Alice Cooper may have promised his fans a thrilling live show that combined the bloodfest aspects of slasher flicks with the naughtiest musical qualities this side of Black Sabbath, but he only proved to be the ultimate bore of rock 'n' roll gore.
Greeted by a chant of "Alice, Alice, Alice." Cooper opened up his Tuesday night concert at the Olympic Staddledome with his 1975 tune Welcome To My Nightmare. Yet all one was treated to was mundane comic book ghoul as predictable as it was pathetic.
Moving about the stage with the grace of a heavy metal cross between Herman Munster and Don Knotts, Cooper tediously celebrated the sensational in a most unsensational way.
He cut his arm with a sword and bled. Then, he proved his manhood by spanking a mannequin which then through the magic of fog came alive and strangled him. Yawn.
He freed himself from a straitjacket and strangled a nurse who had previously administered a gigantic needle. Yawn.
He decapitated a baby doll, skewered a photographer, had a battle of the whips with a lady of the sadomasochistic personna and built a monster during the song Teenage Frankenstein from your basic build a monster kit available at tiny stores everywhere. Mega yawn.
And of course, he had his head chopped off by a guillotine, although unfortunately did not bring an end to the concert.
The problem was that while this may even sound remotely interesting in print, it was like watching an eight year old magician who thinks pulling a dead rabbit out of a hat is a gas.
Cooper pulled it off with such a plastic personality that each trick could be seen coming a mile away, utterly wasting any chance to titillate whatsoever.
As for the music, it was a constant hum of whining guitars which seemed perfect accompaniment to a chainsaw massacre Texas way. His voice was shot and his stage presence worthy of a zombie Halloween party.
Still, Cooper was greeted warmly by his fans who like their one dimensional hero are content to inhabit a world where the past is recycled with many a hint of irony that we've seen it and heard it back when the joke was fresh.
Now Alice Cooper is just a stale joke, a worn out routine who should pack it in and disappear after he's racked in all the bucks from his current rip off tour.
As for the opening act of Sword from Quebec, imagine a group fronted by a chubby David Lee Roth imitator who leads his band through every stupid cliche in the heavy metal jargon and you've got a good idea how shallow their limited repertoire was.