This next record isn’t my
favourite, and it doesn’t help that the plastic tines that the CD in place in
the jewel case are broken. Man, I hate
that. If I played this album more, I’d
replace the case, but instead I’ll probably put it back on the shelf and forget
it’s broken until the next time I take it down and have the disc bounce out of there as I impotently curse our disposable
culture all over again.
Disc 439 is… The Eyes of Alice Cooper
Year of Release: 2003
What’s up with the Cover? A masked Alice Cooper shows off old school makeup
from his early days. Of note, this album
cover came with a variety of different colours for the eyes – I have the red
one, but I think you can get blue and green as well. I’ll stick with the one, unless I happen to
find another one on the cheap somewhere.
How I Came To Know It: I’ve known Alice Cooper
since I was a young boy, and this album is just me doing what I do; drilling
through his complete discography. When I
find an artist I like this much, I tend to by every album they make.
How It Stacks Up: The whole ‘buy every album they make’ is generally
successful, but it isn’t foolproof. I
have twenty-six studio albums by Alice Cooper and “The Eyes of…” is one of my
least favourites. I’ll put it 25th
out of 26. Yes, there is room for worse,
but precious little of it.
Rating: 2 stars
The
cover of this record may feature Cooper’s old-school makeup, and he may think
he’s returning to his hard rock roots, but the truth is this record was a major
disappointment for me.
Cooper’s
songwriting is a skill that has never left him, drunk or sober, but over the
years he has occasionally shown a Kool & the Gang-like propensity to
embrace whatever is going on in the music scene at that particular moment. This can deliver some surprisingly groovy
stuff – he delivers Cooper-disco tracks on “Alice Cooper Goes to Hell” and Cooper-new
wave on “Flush the Fashion.” His
mid-eighties metal records aren’t his most inspiring work, but as eighties
metal goes, it delivers.
On “Eyes”
Cooper builds a very unfortunate chimera indeed, combining a Nu-Metal sound
with song construction very similar to later Green Day. Nu-Metal never sounded good from the
beginning, and anything remotely reminiscent of it suffers; Cooper’s take is no
exception. Later Green Day is a good sound,
but only Green Day seems to be able to pull it off; everything else comes off
as the pop/punk equivalent of Creed trying to sound like Pearl Jam.
In fact
the song, “Between High School & Old
School” prominently features a riff that is almost identical to Green Day’s
2000 song, “Minority.” The title of the song sums up the problem
with this record, which seems to be trying to look back on Cooper’s early
career, and instead comes off as dated and out of step. “What
Do You Want from Me?” even features a line about an XBOX. Game consoles have a very limited shelf-life,
so it is usually a bad idea to reference them in music, especially if you are
over fifty when you do it.
The oft-tapped
well of sappy love ballads is represented with “Be With You Awhile” and it is OK, but it can’t hold a candle to
classics like “Only Women Bleed” and “You and Me.” It does display that Cooper still has vocal
chops, so I’ll give it that, but in most ways it is a pale imitation of previous
greats that said “I love you” so much better.
So
questionable production, and derivative licks and topics – what’s to like about
this record? Well as I noted earlier,
Cooper’s songwriting talent shines through, and he has a real knack for
collaborating on that front with other musicians. Bob Ezrin is long gone, but Cooper always
manages to patch something passable together, even in his weakest moments.
“Detroit City” is a retrospective where
Cooper goes back over his place in rock history, and names lots of legends
(Iggy Pop, MC5, Ziggy Stardust) to put a smile on an aging rock fan’s face
(full disclosure: I am an aging rock fan). The
song also captures Cooper’s sneer-driven vocals which he so perfectly pairs
with show-tune excess. There’s even an
out-of-control saxophone thrown in during the fade out (and a fade out).
“Love
Should Never Feel Like This” is a sappy eighties power track, but it is a
rare exception on the record, with good production decisions, and reminded me
of the better aspects of Cooper’s hair-metal days on “Trash” and “HeyStoopid.” Of course, those weren’t his best days either,
so let’s just move on.
My
guilty pleasure (OK – my second guilty pleasure after “Detroit City”) on this record is “The Song That Didn’t Rhyme” which is mostly a series of very clever
lyrics about penning a bad song and then marketing it anyway. The chorus is deeply ironic:
“Oh the melody blows
In a key that no one can find.
The lyrics don’t flow.
But I can’t get it out of my
mind.”
Because
the melody is quite nice and yes (in case you didn’t notice) it does rhyme –quite
cleverly throughout the song in fact. It
ends with:
“A three minute waste of your
time
No redeeming value of any kind
But thanks for the $12.99
On the song that didn’t rhyme.”
This
song was nothing special but it left a smile on my face. It is the 11th track on the album,
and it is a shame Cooper doesn’t end it here, on a high note. Instead he tacks on a couple more unmemorable
tracks that make the record a little too long and a little too lame.
Still,
Alice has given me a lot of love over the years, and he even thanked me for the
$12.99. You’re welcome, Alice.
Best tracks: Novocaine, Detroit City, The Song That Didn’t Rhyme
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