Article Database

Wembley Concert Review

ALICE COOPER
PLUS: MOTORHEAD, JOAN JETT
Wembley Arena, London
17.11.07

KKK

WITH THE rain lashing down outside, it seems people can't cram through Wembley's doors quick enough. Or maybe it's just because inside its brightly lit walls Joan Jett is busy leading thousands into a joyous rendition of I Love Rock And Roll, setting the tone perfectly.

If their whopping 70-minute set isn't enough, then the avalanche of people that crash through the doors as Motorhead explode into action should go some way towards cementing their position as the night's unspoken headliners. That they even add a fine-minute drum solo into the thunderous In The Name Of Tragedy only makes such suspicions even stronger. "Do you want it louder?" asks Lemmy as thousands visibly wince at the thought. "Well, I can't fucking hear you anyway, so turn it up, sound man." The bastard.

If there's just one lesson that can be learnt from Alice Cooper, it's that stabbing a man to death before whipping the shit out of your own thigh is the only way to open a rock and roll show. With a never-ending box of tricks, including a runaway baby carriage, there's barely a dull moment, but, as always, it's his songs that prove to me most enthralling. For every 50-foot spider web there's a stomping Feed My Frankenstein, just as for every murderous beauty there's a Poison. With his 60th birthday just months away it's amazing that he has the will let alone the ability to take to the stage night after night, but what's most impressive is that even in a world where war and murder are never more than a channel away, Alice remains as strangely entrancing as a scud, even if he's no longer as terrifying.