In Phoenix, Arizona, in the late sixties there was a
rough little garage band known as ‘The Earwigs’, playing whatever
gigs they could get with a certain Vincent Furnier on lead vocals. By
1969 and countless name changes the quintet had settled on the name
‘The Alice Cooper Band’’. As expected, the lead singer started to
get called Alice. The band’s fame started to spread with the release
of their first album ‘Pretties For You’. There was certainly no
overnight stardom, more a slow, but inevitable rise to the very top of
the tree.
By
1972 Vincent Furnier changed his name by deed poll to Alice Cooper and
the Alice Cooper Band had their first global number one hit with
‘School’s Out’; brilliantly timed to be released when all the
schools broke up for their long summer holidays. With its lyrics of
unbounded joy and anti-teacher rants ‘School’s Out’ captured the
imagination of a generation of school kids. Everybody loved the Alice
Cooper Band, unless you happened to be a parent.
By the time of the release of this, their sixth album
‘Billion Dollar Babies’, the Alice Cooper Band was one of the
biggest bands in the world and had 25 Gold Records, album sales of over
50 million, plus sold-out stadium tours to prove it.
The band was every teenager’s dream. The band
members themselves were disastrously young, too brutally good looking,
too clever by half, way out of control, preened around the country in
their own customized jet (booze and cards in the front, girls in the
back), willing to take any chance they were given, and most importantly
enough street savvy to fill every young head on our little planet. The
songs weren’t bad either.
Opening with the frothy-mouthed Broadway burlesque of
‘Hello Hooray’, the band announces their arrival and greets their
audience, a celebration from the musicians to thank their fans for where
they now are; together with their fans one mighty gang. Not one to ever
dodge issues, the next song ‘Raped and Freezin’ is a Stonesy rave-up
involving a guy who gets picked up and raped by some ‘old broad down
from Sante Fe’ and winds up naked in Chihuahua, Mexico. You can
imagine how much this would have been appreciated by the older
generation. But it’s all very tongue in cheek with the singer at his
sassy best, and the south-of-the-border Spanish guitar mantra at the
song’s end is pure class.
The next song was the first single to be released
from this collection, ‘Elected’, which was put out the previous year
to tie in with the American Presidential Elections. Not a trick did our
boys miss out on. Naturally the song was a huge hit.
The title track remains an all time classic,
including its surprising vocal duet with flower power idol Donavan and
Alice, although it’s Alice who gets to sing the gleeful:
‘’If I’m too rough, tell me,
I’m so scared your tiny little head is going to
come off in my hands”.
‘Billion Dollar Babies’ has wonderful guitar
riffs from Michael Bruce and Glen Buxton, although Steve Hunter and Dick
Wagner, two of rock ‘n’ roll’s top session guitarists, were
brought in to give some experience to the studio guitar sound. This was
also partly due to the failing health of Glen Buxton, who is tragically
no longer with us. The rhythm section of Dennis Dunaway and Neal Smith
really come into their own on these songs.
On this thirtieth anniversary release of ‘Billion
Dollar Babies’ you get two discs, one with the original recording
cleaned up by original producer Bob Ezrin from the master tapes, and a
second one with selected live tracks from the ‘Billion Dollar
Babies’ tour that followed this release, where the band leaves you in
no doubt they certainly can cut it live. There are also several studio
outtakes on the second disc, showing that at the time the band had
plenty of material still left in the bank.
‘Generation Landslide’, ‘No More Mr. Nice
Guy’, plus the title track were three more hit singles for the band,
while ‘I Love The Dead’ and ‘Sick Things’ would become stage
favorites. ‘Unfinished Sweet’ gives the band room to breathe, while
giving the stage show a vehicle for the band’s theatrics during their
spectacular act, especially with its snippets of West Side Story themes.
‘Mary Ann’ is perhaps the album’s only not
instantly memorable song. It’s a pithy ballad that pumps sexual irony
to the point of persona self-immolation. On the surface the song is a
ballad of pure ear candy for girls, but the last line pitches a curve
ball by revealing the protagonist’s true love interest. Mary Ann is as
much a man, if not more so, than Alice himself. For sheer cheek alone,
Mary Ann scores a point.
A great album beautifully repackaged with loads of
sleeve notes and photos all tucked away in a snake skin wallet.
Unfortunately though you cannot remove the Billion Dollar note tucked
inside as you could in the original vinyl release.
Sadly the next year’s ‘Muscle of Love’ album
was the band’s last as egos got in the way. The newly named Alice
crawled away to form yet another band, while the others carried on as
“The Billion Dollar Babies’’, but none of them ever came close to
these heights again.
Christmas
is a time for children, and a time for Christians to remember Jesus
Christ. It is then perhaps fitting that in this Christmas edition the book
review remembers the life of Father Ray Brennan, a committed Christian
priest who founded the Pattaya Orphanage, a home for hundreds of children
on the Eastern Seaboard.
Mott’s CD review: The Alice Cooper Band - Billion Dollar Babies