Recently I had the good fortune to see both Alice Cooper and Apocalyptica a day apart. Two very different acts: one famous, ancient, and having been featured in Wayne’s World; the other a small Finnish cello triplet with drum accompaniment. One playing at The Roundhouse in Camden (home to BMW product launches and the Virgin Travel Awards), the other at the HMV Forum in Kentish Town. The disparity is clear.
Upon viewing the attached photo gallery, one thing is obvious: a complete lack of photos of Alice Cooper. The man is simply too old for hip thrusting. And, much as I hate to knock the man who has been celebrating the end of school at the beginning of summer, feeding Frankensteins, and Poisoning for so long, his voice just wasn’t up to snuff. All this without getting onto the theatrics: every song involved him either dying, or killing a hot girl. It was too much, or possibly not enough: perhaps he needs to return to gigantic theatrics, big enough to rival Iron Maiden and Rammstein, big enough to dwarf the man and magnify the image.
Apocalpytica on the other hand were superb. Amusing whilst addressing the audience in a second language, full of energy despite having already been on tour for three weeks, and spot-on with their playing.
“Who has the new album? [the majority of the audience waves and cheers] What the fuck is wrong with the rest of you? Go and buy a copy from merchandising!”
They did, unfortunately, have a man singing, and he insisted in adopting the ‘forced-but-resisting blow job pose’: two hands firmly gripping the microphone, arms fully braced. And then there was the auto-tuning. One might point out that if one needs auto-tuning, one should perhaps return to the shower from whence one’s singing came.
In light of the cello playing, however, this audio burble was easily forgotten. An irritation at the time and all-but lost in memory.
Apocalyptica: you rock.
Now, to see you play in concert with Letzte Instanz…