October, 1972

Boston Music Hall

Soundboard ‘Music Hall Memories’ is the bootleg to get. Essential.

3rd October, 1977

Town Hall, Birmingham

Can’t remember the setlist at all, but I’ve included this band out of respect. The hall was bouncing and I thought the balcony was going to come down.
We definitely got the big hits ‘Right On Time’ and ‘Strawberry Letter 23.’ They got the crowd up with ‘Get the Funk Out Ma Face’ and ‘I’ll Be Good To You.’
What an outfit!
The Town Hall was used to rock artists so to see the place shaking with the funk was something else.
Unique.

29th January, 1975

Town Hall, Birmingham

The Naughty Rhythms Tour

Each Band took it in turns to headline every night. Tonight it was Kokomo with the Feelgoods second. Chilli Willi not to be confused with the later incarnation from the USA.

24th June, 1978

The Odeon, Birmingham

Dynamite! Well, it felt like dynamite. Boom! The walls of this cavernous cinema were actually shaking. I’d never witnessed bass playing like that ever!

6th September, 1981

Colston Hall, Bristol

17th March, 1977

The Odeon, Birmingham

Support: The Damned (1st tour)

Anecdote about Rat Scabies:

At the conclusion of The Damned’s set, Rat would pour lighter fuel over his drum kit and set fire to it. Then as the flames exploded he would kick his kit into pieces all across the stage. The band were just about to leave triumphantly, when the Captain turned with a wry smile and said, “Oh! Shit! He’s letting us do an encore!” And Scabies had to rebuild his kit in full view of the audience. There was quite a bit of playful nonsense going on between the two bands all tour. The Damned would join in on the T. Rex encore. Glorious mayhem.

Note about the sound:

There are very few (unfortunately) recordings of T. Rex live performances. Those which exist often are of poor sound quality, having been taped on mono cassette-recorders, smuggled into the theatres. There are some recordings which are not too bad, but it’s difficult to find complete shows. Also the band was virtually completely different on every tour.

There is a tendency among fans and critics who did not see the 1977 ‘Dandy In The Underworld’ tour to suggest that the band had a rather wimpy keyboard-led sound, as evidenced by the existing poor tapes. This is because the guitar frequencies have often been lost. Nothing could have been further from the truth. There’s a great anecdote from one of Marc’s roadies, who was so fed up with him turning his guitar up to 10 (max) that he ‘fixed’ the volume on the amp to stick at 7, even though Marc thought it was 10!

On this tour there were two guitarists, Marc and Miller Anderson, who still plays his blues live today. The band was a powerhouse with Herbie Flowers (bass) and Tony Newman (drums) providing a rock-solid rhythm section. It was a slick professional outfit which rocked. If anything Dino Dines’ keyboards just provided the fills and underpinned everything.

There’s a youtube clip of the encore at Bristol which gives an impression of the guitar pyrotechnics on show.

The Review

Lights dimming……..

Jeepster

Chord. Pause. Chord. Pause. Chord. Pause. Chord. Pause.

Count-in. And we’re off. The unmistakable opening of Jeepster, which is much quicker than normal. It also emphasises the rockabilly parts more than usual as it bounces along with its energetic exuberance. Of course, at the end Marc shouts, “I’m gonna fuck ya!” to everyone’s amusement. Solid start, then.

Visions of Domino

On the previous tour, about 13 or 14 months earlier, Marc had premiered a song called Funky London Childhood. He obviously liked it because here it was revamped with different lyrics and a new title. This was a thunderous version with the two guitars propelling it along. It got the Odeon rocking. This band was taking no prisoners.

New York City

This one cantered along with a breezy confidence and some great guitar playing during the breaks. The bit at the end worked especially well.

The Soul of My Suit

For some reason this song, which sounds a bit timid on record, thrived in concert format, perhaps because it was longer and repeated different sections. Marc definitely played two separate ‘tastefully adept’ solos near the front of the stage. The audience certainly loved it. It was to be the latest single.

Groove a Little

Another new song followed. Another belter from the blues background. Again disappointing on the record but fantastic live, with everyone jumping around to the beat and the infectious interplay of the two guitars. Miller Anderson had been a shrewd recruit. At this point few could believe how good this was turning out.

Telegram Sam

Introduced as a kind of rock ‘n roller, the band played it uptempo with a new twist on the main riff. It also contained many

improvised verses with Marc referencing his mate, Dave.

‘Automatic shoes

Automatic shoes

Got 3D vision

And the David Bowie blues.’

And so on. It was great stuff. It went on for ages. Here was Marc, not dwelling morosely on his past, but revelling in reinventing it. Some people even tried to get up on stage. Then more of the impromptu lyrics:

’Me I fuck

But I don’t care

I ain’t no square

With my corkscrew hair.’

which is fairly ironic, since his hair is really just growing back from when it was quite short! What a card!

Hang Ups

Then the piece-de-resistance! Another new song. This was unheard-of for so many new tracks to be attempted or so neatly-rehearsed. Usually Marc would just tear into stuff and rely on making a racket. This song had the old Jewel / 20th Century Boy notes harnessing the riff, but it thundered along just like the others. However, what made it the centre-piece of this show was the solo in the middle, which was replicated at the end, too. Marc almost forgot to stamp on his fx pedal to boost the volume (so it separated more from the band), but he played a blistering solo which stunned everyone. Two minutes later to finish the song he did it again just to prove it wasn’t a fluke. Some performance from someone who was supposed to be washed up! The audience went ballistic. I started thinking about a couple of my mates who’d been unable to make the concert and how I was going to attempt to explain this show. Despite the existence of some audience tapes of the tour, they don’t do the performances any justice. And that includes the Edsel attempts.

Debora

Next up, a surprise. The band do a punked up version of Debora. This also had some lovely guitar parts in the choruses, which disappear on the bootlegs. Should have released this. Even the Captain thought this would have been a bold statement in the days of punk and the New Wave. Delightful.

I Love to Boogie

Then party time. The rockabilly throwaway bounced along and everyone jumped about. He introduced Herbie Flowers as the man who wrote Grandad. Grandad Flowers he called him. It was all good-humoured stuff.

Dandy In The Underworld

Then yet another new tune, the title-track from the new album. Slower and punchy, it sounded interesting. Another neat solo and creative guitar interplay made it a resounding success with the audience. He mentioned something about Steve Harley being involved with it and suddenly we were into another new album track.

Teen Riot Structure

Live, this seemed to have all sorts of weird guitar bits coming at you and solos at various intervals. It went down very well.

Hot Love

No showbiz crap, shouted Marc, and they flew into a deliberately-underwhelming routine version of Hot Love, probably for old times sake. They didn’t dwell on the second half of it but finished and bid ‘Good Night!’

It had been an ultra-professional but stunning display of musicianship.

Encore: Get It On

It was hardly surprising that they threw the kitchen sink at this. Tony Newman got an unbelievable solo in the middle and Marc provided some glimpses of his hedonistic early 70s guitar silliness. It was all good clean fun. We were treated to a ten-minute version of Bolan-as-Hendrix on speed. With the guitars left to feedback naturally, they were suddenly gone, and little did we know then, it would be forever!

1st April, 1975

Colston Hall, Bristol

Mott The Hoople finally disintegrated, having valiantly attempted to do so many times previously. They had nearly vanished in the early seventies when Bowie, in a gesture of remarkable generosity (considering he had no big hits himself), gave them All The Young Dudes, which, of course, became an enormous success. Bowie & Mick Ronson produced it, played guitar on it, sang on it and just let Ian Hunter sing the verses again, where Bowie had originally sung. There are numerous versions circulating of the Bowie version.

When Bowie split The Spiders, Mick Ronson was projected onto the UK public as a superstar-elect. He wasn’t really convinced by that himself, despite releasing two solo projects. Ian Hunter invited Ronson to join The Hoople, which he did for a few weeks, but it just led to resentment with the others in the band and a huge amount of apathy for work. Saturday Gigs was the only product of the union, a satisfactory valediction for such a band.

Hunter and Ronson decided to form a partnership of sorts for touring, since Ronson had virtually produced Hunter’s excellent1975 solo album. As a result, they toured the UK & the States, plundering most of Mott’s big hits and cherry-picking the best of their own solo material. The setlist was an outstanding showpiece of contemporary rock and the musicianship was incredible. The pianist couldn’t make it, so they managed to acquire the services of Blue Weaver, who later had years of success with the Bee Gees! Its only rock ‘n roll, innit Keef?

It proved to be inspired, since the two became inseparable for ages, touring right up to Ronson’s serious ill-health. What can you say about Ronson? There are virtuosos, like Vai & Satriani, but he was unique. Perhaps it was his understanding the violin or growing the nails on his “wrong” hand? He dug into the fretboard with his left to bend the strings and used mainly a ‘Cry-Baby’ pedal, but at such excessive volumes that he was virtually deaf in one ear. Genius is often carelessly banded about. In Mick’s case it is apt.

On to the concert. April Fool’s Day, 1975, Bristol, at the now-infamous Colston Hall. What a privilege to witness this!

(As I mentioned elsewhere, I tried for years to find a recording of this tour. By chance, I happened upon a friendly Scandinavian Mott fan, who had all the shows. Thank you, my friend, for sending them to me).

Once Bitten Twice Shy

Well, this was fun. It’s a great opener on the album, but worked even better live. A rock ‘n roll song about………rock ‘n roll. It has a casual introduction and meanders along for a minute or so until Ronson crashes into the tune with his blistering guitar work. The audience go berserk and that’s the tone set for the evening. Stunning.

Lounge Lizard

A song carried over from the last days of Mott and another masterclass from Ronson on his Les Paul. I think you can find their demo on an Anthology. Ronson’s screaming guitar takes it to a different place.

Growing Up and I’m Fine

Time for a change of pace. This time Ronson gets to show off a couple of his recent solo tunes. The piano-driven Bowie-penned song is a jolly interlude. But it doesn’t last long.

Angel No. 9

Ronson pulls out another classic, in the vein of Moonage Daydream. For much of the time Hunter stands in awe and appreciation of his talent, smiling smugly. After this, they could have walked off and we would all have been happy.

Who Do You Love?

Then it’s a new one from Hunter’s solo project, with more bar-room piano and Ronno adding some Running Gun Blues type riffing to the song. It gets everyone jumping about.

White Light White Heat

What’s this? The Spiders used to play this live. Bowie intended to record it for his Pinups 2 project, but gave the backing to Ronson for one his solo albums. The Hunter-Ronson band bring the house down. It’s been a non-stop breathtaking assault.

Boy

Ian Hunter gets to calm things right down with a lengthy attack on a boy, a multi-faceted flawed creature. It could be a number of people he’s referring to and probably was. He wasn’t too happy with a couple of his ex-colleagues, nor of Bowie’s behaviour at the time. It has the grand gesture without really convincing. It’s ok, though.

Play Don’t Worry

Ronson then does the title track off his latest solo album and it sounds much better than the recorded version. This happens all the time in concerts. Weird.

The Truth The Whole Truth Nothin’ But The Truth

Complete carnage from Ronson! What he could do with a Marshall stack, Les Paul & a simple Cry Baby pedal is ridiculous. He throws all his tricks into this. Hunter barks and roars, while Ronson pulls out feedback and distortion, similar to his playing on Pleasure Man (Slaughter on 10th Avenue). It veers back and forth from near-silence to deafening noise. That’s the artistic statement done. Now it’s time for some fun.

Roll Away The Stone

Out come the hits. First up is the Mott fifties pastiche. Bit of a sing-along.

Slaughter On Tenth Avenue

Mick surprises everyone by playing the title track of his first solo album. For many years he played snippets of this in concert, but here, he plays the full version, which he rarely did later. It’s a belter and, again, works well live.

The Golden Age Of Rock ‘N Roll

More of Mott’s 50s /60s retrospection and another sing-along.

All The Way From Memphis

Then a highlight. The classic. It’s almost as if Ronson knows this inside out. Audience chaos.

All The Young Dudes

Then it’s the Bowie gift which, of course, Bowie and Ronson recorded for Mott. It’s almost as if Ronson knows this inside out. Getting the picture? It’s the grand finale. That went quickly.

The Girl Can’t Help It

They finish with a slapdash version of an oldie from Ronson’s second album. The vocals are shared. It’s done at a crazy pace. Then bang. It’s all over.

The Hunter-Ronson band often reconvened over the years to come, but never reproduced this kind of set. Unique.

27th November, 1995

Cardiff CIA

Support: Morrissey! No kidding. He turned up. Didn’t vanish till Glasgow. Did have a hot band, though.

Recommend the bootleg of this show: “What a Fantastic Santa’s Cap!” [DAT recording]

As the lights dim for the main event, some midi-sequenced percussion fills the auditorium. Banners, like flags advertising exhibitions in an art gallery, hang from the roof, fluttering. The stage appears cluttered with debris (the kind of paraphernalia associated with an Alice Cooper performance), with body parts and corpses. High above the stage is a huge sign, “Ouvrez le Chien!.” It recalls the chorus of an old Bowie song from his album, ‘The Man Who Sold The World.’ The song? ‘All the madmen.’ Welcome to the crazed zone. This could be interesting. There is a table and one chair on the stage. As you take in the set, the sequenced beats cease and we hear the first notes of the immense ‘The Motel.’ Garson’s tumbling piano notes weave against Gail-Anne Dorsey’s phasey flanging high bass notes. We hear Bowie before we see him. He’s singing in a deep register this ponderous slow song out of sight. It’s a brave and challenging opening. Suddenly there is movement way down to the side of the stage near some limbs and cloth. Bowie’s been hiding among the props. He raises himself to a standing position for the rest of the tune. It builds to a mighty crescendo with Gabrels’ thunderous guitar crashing against the orchestral ambience of the other instruments. It’s some opening. Credit has to be given to the band-leader, Peter Schwartz, who is a specialist in TV & film scores. Somewhere I have an article on his preparations for this tour. He had an arsenal of hard drives and fully-loaded samplers to replicate the complex nature of the multitrack recordings of ‘1. Outside.’ The sound quality was sensational. You knew this wasn’t going to be an ordinary night.

Look Back In Anger

Bowie delved into his 70s back catalogue to revamp some of the more edgy tunes in his repertoire. They also seemed to fit the overall magnificent gloom. It further seeded another germ for the future, where he would “pair” contemporary material with past glories (e.g. Heathen with Low in 2002). ‘Look Back In Anger’ had been the link for the new partnership with the guitar genius, Reeves Gabrels, so it’s little wonder that this got a severe workout on this tour. It also contained that tonal drop Bowie loved at this time (e.g. Outside). So, Lodger gets a nod, then.

The Heart’s Filthy Lesson

Thunderous bass from Gail and a barrage of sounds from Schwartz’s arsenal of samplers introduces the melodically-challenged beast that is “The Heart’s Filthy Lesson.” Bowie sings it as if he himself is in pain. A wonderfully unpleasant concoction of aural insanity. This is Bowie back to his challenging best. “Paddy? Who’s been wearing Miranda’s clothes?” Such a nice tune it was selected for the run-out on the harrowing film ‘7even.’ Magic.

Scary Monsters & Super Creeps

Another track plundered from the past. In the USA Bowie dueted with Trent Reznor on this track and a number of others. He shared the bill with Nine Inch Nails and their set would merge into Bowie’s as the two bands mixed each other’s material. It caused much consternation among fans and critics, many assuming Bowie to be cashing in on other’s success. Many reviews on both sides of the Atlantic referred to droves of fans leaving the arenas when Bowie started his set. Clowns.

Scary Monsters allowed Gabrels to unleash his inner Vai, Satriani, Zappa or whatever. The solos were blistering. One of the highlights of a remarkable set. Gabrels is the most important factor in Bowie’s later career integrity. It’s a travesty that the releases of these live shows are so half-baked. What a band!

The Voyeur of Utter Destruction (As Beauty)

Probably the centre-piece of this show and group of superlative musicians. This is one of many outstanding compositions on the album. Here Gabrels is given licence to tear up his fretboard as if he’s been hypodermically injected with some of the unpleasant fluids mentioned in the non-linear hyper-cycle. A magnificent song-structure matched by a powerful vocal from Bowie makes for a jaw-dropping performance.

I Have Not Been To Oxford Town

One of my ex-colleagues (sadly now deceased) used to work at a local radio station and I overheard him telling someone one day that there were no tracks on Bowie’s new album which could be played on the radio, so unsuitable were they! Strange how rumours take on mythic proportions so quickly. Anyway, this song was a cert for a single, with its radio-friendly catchy chorus. It’s one of Bowie’s most accessible tunes. It’s likely that the lyrics were problematic. “Baby Grace was the victim.” A fine opening. Alomar plays a delightfully funky chop on the verses and a merry time is had by one and all. A great sing-a-long. “All’s well, the twentieth century dies!”

Outside

A little bit of ‘Look Back In Anger’ again, then it’s virtually note-for-note of Bolan’s ‘Nameless Wildness’ for the melodic motif. Bowie sings some his best elliptical imagery on top and, hey presto, it’s another weird one. Life is getting fisted.

Andy Warhol

A deliriously syncopated of the ‘Hunky Dory’ classic follows. Gabrels mangles the notes as the madness continues. Glorious.

The Man Who Sold The World

A beautiful reworking of the classic song, bearing little musical resemblance to the original version. Immediately a classic and one of the rare occasions where a remake beats the original. Hats off to Brian for that.

A Small Plot of Land

Possibly the most difficult song for an audience to handle, but long one of my favourite Bowie things. It’s ponderous, doomy and morbid. Bowie monologues in character about smashing someone with a spade. Murder as art. Some thought he was murdering art. Some critics chose this song to take the opportunity to pay a visit to the convenience. Heathens.

Boys Keep Swinging

Another from ‘Lodger.’ This time the band play their own instruments, but the sense of chaotic pandemonium careers on. Girls are swinging too. Everybody’s swinging and enjoying themselves.

Strangers When We Meet

A carry-over from the magnificent ‘Buddha of Suburbia’ sessions and another Bowie classic. Understated and casually brilliant.

Jump (They Say)

A genuine surprise. Despite its depressing and all too real background it becomes a highlight. A great tune.

Hallo Spaceboy

So radio-unfriendly were these songs that the Pet Shop Boys reworked this one into an electro pop track and had a massive top 20 hit with it. I prefer this version by miles. Gail has a torrid time on the bass with this one. Its tempo is frantic and the bass drives it incessantly. “You’re released but your custody calls.” Opaque lyrics and and dramatic ensemble playing. Another masterpiece.

Breaking Glass

Back to ‘Low.’ Bowie is certainly bringing out the personal pain to mix with his fictional crime-narrative.

We Prick You

Suddenly we’re back into electro-dance territory and the sprawling catchiness of ‘We Prick You.’ The blending of sequenced material with Gabrels’ machine-gun guitar-shredding was a stroke of artistic genius.

Nite Flights

Scott Walker loomed large again at this time. Who’d have thought both Bowie & Walker would release (almost simultaneously) two of the darkest most challenging records? Serendipity. It’s not unfair to comment that Bowie’s version here is better, too, than the original.

My Death

Time for Carlos Alomar to get a look in. A completely different musician from Gabrels altogether. He plays some Spanish style guitar until the first chords of Brel’s ‘My Death’ become noticeable. Bowie hasn’t played this since the days of Ziggy with The Spiders. It’s long and emotional. It brings the house down.

DJ

It appears it’s time to unwind a bit. Again from ‘Lodger’ we get a big surprise. I don’t get its inclusion. Maybe he’s having a go at the general radio backlash to the current album, but, whatever! It’s a jolly run-through.

Teenage Wildlife

Another classic from ‘Scary Monsters.’ This time we get a fantastic version of ‘Teenage Wildlife.’ Gabrels has a field day sprinting up and down his fretboard, as if he’s been brought back from the dead by Dr. Frankenstein! Like a demented chicken on speed!

Under Pressure

Encore time flushes out another surprise, which was to become a Bowie touring staple for many years afterwards. Gail-Anne Dorsey takes the role of Freddie Mercouri and bangs out a cracking duet which the audience love.

Moonage Daydream

What better finale than to end with a Ziggy classic. To Gabrels’ credit he eschews trying to out-do Ronson and plays it straight. It’s a great version and a fitting conclusion to a memorable Bowie show. Unquestionably, one of his best (if not THE best) bands.

4th August, 1981

Sophia Gardens Pavilion, Cardiff

Support: John Cooper-Clarke

Another very strange venue. It collapsed years later in a storm!

There were some crowd issues here, too, when, on more than one occasion, the band stopped and John McGeogh, the guitarist, swung his guitar menacingly at some clowns in front of the stage. Some serious shit.

Siouxsie was an imposing presence, with her vocals constantly teetering on the tone-deaf. The star of the show, without question, though, was the self-effacing guitarist, John McGeogh. What a talent! This line-up was probably the best incarnation of the ever-evolving group. By now my cleaner’s (in Crete) brother had long gone, having eloped with the bassist. Punk, eh?

By this stage of their career the Banshees were old hands and their performance showed. Utter class. We were treated to a mix of old and new, with most of the big hits covered. We got fantastic versions of Christine, Spellbound, Arabian Nights, Staircase (the Mystery), as well as Hong Hong Garden and my favourite, Switch. A nod to the past came with Helter Skelter and Dear, Prudence.

23rd October, 1975 [Support: The Sadistic Mika Band], from Japan, singing in Japanese!

Bingley Hall, Birmingham

Where?!!

This place hadn’t been used for concerts for ages, but such was the demand for Roxy that a large space had to be found, irrespective of its suitability for sound, audience spectatorship or atmosphere. There was no incline for the seating, as you get in a cinema, so if you were seated anywhere after the first ten rows it was carnage.

However, this was 1975 and peak Roxy (despite the mixed bag which was the current Siren album), with the GI gear-look and a powerhouse of a band, complemented by some super session players. The original line-up was boosted by Chris Spedding on second guitar and Johnny Gustafson on bass. The female backing singers, Jacqui Sullivan & Doreen Chanter lend some glamour and vocal panache to Ferry’s inimitable crooning. What a glorious noise this band made!

They entered with the new brooding and mysterious ‘Sentimental Fool,’ the kind of stuff which should have filled the Siren album. Then they launched into a blistering version of ‘The Thrill of it All’ from ‘Country Life.’ Manzanera & Spedding brought the house down with that. Those two songs alone filled the best part of fifteen minutes! We could easily have all packed up and gone home happy. It was like an encore. If you’re lucky enough to track down a bootleg, you’ll understand how good they were live. It’s no wonder that it became the encore at some shows.

Next. Footsteps and an engine starting up. The cool intro to ‘Love is the Drug’ and time for Ferry to show off. This is Roxy at their best, just the right side of cool, with a great tune exploring a variety of genres. After that it’s one classic after another: ‘Mother of Pearl,’ ‘Bitter Sweet,’ ‘Nightingale (not too grand),’ and the lengthy ‘Out of the Blue’ follow, where Jobson does his virtuoso turn with a violin solo. Another new song is attempted, ‘Whirlwind,’ which sounds a tad forced and not up to the required standard, before Ferry takes a break and Manzanera & Mackay showcase some solo material. Manzanera does ‘Diamond Head,’ the title track from his new album, while Mackay offers a rock ‘n roll pastiche with ‘Wild Weekend.’ There was little evidence of the lack of creative energy the band had felt in the construction of ‘Siren’ in the live performance here.

I remember John Peel playing the entire ‘Siren’ album on his late-night show and recording it. FM broadcast. I was delighted and dismayed in equal measure by its contents. Either brilliant or bang-average. Ferry had been pandering to his solo career far too much and Roxy at times were veering on the schmalzty rather than their exciting adventurous earlier material.

On to the second half of the set. This was blistering. The new ‘Both Ends Burning’ was more like it, complete with the unusual chord progression we demand from them. ‘Sea Breezes’ was an unexpected delight, with Spedding in his element - he had rerecorded it for Ferry as a solo track. ‘Street Life,’ ‘Prairie Rose,’ ‘For Your Pleasure, ‘ a colossal version of ‘The In-Crowd’ and ‘Virginia Plain’ bring things to a more than satisfactory conclusion. Any misgivings about the sound in the hall had been dispelled, at least for those if us near the front.

Back they come for an encore. ‘Remake Remodel’ starts the pandemonium, followed by a slick medley of ‘Do the Strand - Editions of You - Do the Strand.’ Great stuff. That brought the house down.

They wrap things up with a jaunty race through Ferry’s reinterpretation of Dylan’s ‘A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall.’
And that is that. Exceptional. Probably don’t play as well until the reunion tour of 2001.

So a privilege to witness such a great band at the peak of their powers. Unbelievable that they cannot reconcile their differences and produce more material. I hope they don’t regret it as much as us, their fans. Ferry seems content to be part-genius and part-bore these days. He’s turned into Noel Coward on downers.

5th December, 1986 Birmingham Odeon

[I was there!]

Paul Horowitz, Ken Mary, Kip Winger III, Devlin 7, Kane Roberts &, of course, (as stated on the marquee) the Legendary Alice Cooper!

Plus.........a python, a demented nurse, a giant Robot and plenty of on-stage carnage. Even the names above sound like a wind-up.

Here's the set:

Welcome to my Nightmare

Billion Dollar Babies

No More Mr. Nice Guy

Be My Lover

Eighteen

The World Needs Guts

Give It Up

Cold Ethyl

Only Women Bleed

Go To Hell

The Ballad Of Dwight Fry

Teenage Frankenstein

Sick Things

I Love The Dead

School's Out

Elected

Under My Wheels

The comeback tour. 1986. "The Nightmare Returns"

Still have the t-shirt, in pieces, in frames! Hard to believe that Alice, seemingly long-gone, another drunken rock'n roll casualty, was actually fit, let alone returning. Yet the comeback is still on, 32 years later. I don't think anyone expected such an extraordinary return to form and a riveting show to boot. If you think I'm over-reacting, you can still get a dvd of the performance in Detroit (1987). The sequence of 'Teenage Frankenstein' surpasses anything I've ever witnessed in theatre, rock music or in any sporting arena........unbelievable. I used to put the dvd on the for the kids when they were young. Magic.

I'd persuaded my mate, Jose, to come along - he never regretted that!

Alice kicks things off with a mini-tour of his Nightmare world, gargoyles and ghoulish paraphernalia everywhere, as if you'd just dropped in on someone's torture-chamber. Most of his band are placed high up out of the way of his performance area. Apart from Kane Roberts, that is, a Rambo-inspired steroid-king, built like a tank while impersonating Steve Vai on speed. His guitar also doubles for a rocket-launcher. Madness!

The intro to 'Billion Dollar Babies' sees Alice grab a sabre and a baby to antagonise - thankfully it does look plastic. He snarls and kicks it around and the audience go crazy for the mock infanticide. The place erupts as people recognise the opening to 'No More Mr. Nice Guy' and realise that this could be a rather special show and a night to treasure. Another oldie follows. 'Be My Lover' from "Killer" witnesses the return of another firm favourite, Alice's python! If you're going to introduce sexual innuendo why not do it in the grand manner? The anthem 'Eighteen' elicits more cheering, as Alice wanders around leaning on his crutch, a metaphor for all sorts of youthful torment. Then it's time to showcase some material from his new album, "Constrictor." 'Give It Up' is a solid rocker, with Alice now throwing dollar bills around and picking up all kinds of debris and ghostly detritus off his set. He's wiping his arse with dollar bills and brandishing his sword malignantly. 'The World Needs Guts' also goes down well, with its references to blood-letting.

What remains of the tour t-shirt

Then the real theatre begins. Is that an enormous fridge he's opening? Is he actually removing a female corpse from it? Yes! It's Ethyl, his full-size doll and it's time for a spot of necrophilia. The audience can't believe he's gone back to the peak 1975 period and the place erupts as he kicks Ethyl around. She takes a right battering. The lights dim and we hear the first gentle notes of the feminist ballad, 'Only Women Bleed.' In the improving light Ethyl has become a real woman and the psychotic Alice sings his belated apologies for maltreating her. But nevertheless he strangles her and shoves her back in the freezer, before he 'Goes to Hell.' More ghoulies wander around trying to spook and unhinge him. 'The Ballad of Dwight Fry' has Alice placed in a straight-jacket in an asylum. A terrifying nurse administers injections into his neck and head with an oversized hypodermic syringe. He collapses but, as the song climaxes, he recovers and escapes his chains and strangles the nurse, too, as she mocks him. The corpses are starting to pile up!
Next up, the piece-de-resistance. We get our first taste of 'Teenage Frankenstein,' a new anthem. As Kane Roberts launches into another solo Alice wanders across to the other side of the stage and begins to assemble a huge robot from what looks like chunks of debris scattered around the set. The music slows down and he puts the ugliest-looking head on top of this six-foot something creation. The music does its mock Hammer-horror thing and suddenly, as Roberts slams some heavy stomping chords out of his guitar, the robot comes to life! This is impossible. Everyone saw Alice building it. It was empty. The robot 'chases' Alice around the stage menacingly. The theatre is now a riot. He ducks and weaves out of the way of the creature's advances. The robot returns to his original position and, as the music reaches another climax, Alice smashes the robot to bits. Of course, it's hollow and he holds up a part to the audience to prove it. Sensational. That brings the house down. For several minutes the place is in uproar.

A kind of calm pervades for 'Sick Things.' We all need a break. But as Alice sings about his mental fantasies, the guillotine is being prepared by more ghouls. His execution is nigh. Alice is dragged to his place under the guillotine and his head carefully readied for severing. 'I Love the Dead' pounds out and, when the music stops, there's a scream as the blade drops and Alice is beheaded. The executioner parades the severed head around the stage kissing it on the lips. The head responds by spitting blood. It's all rather splendid.
As darkness and silence descend upon the stage there's a loud bell ringing out. Lights up.

Alice comes bounding down with the chords of 'School's Out' thundering out. It's showtime now. He's in his frockcoat and leading the audience in a sing-song. Balloons full of nasty stuff are floated out over the audience and he slashes them with his sabre. The victims are delighted. Then he's gone.

Much stamping for the inevitable encore after that masterclass. 'Elected' is even better, with bullshit nationalism and jingoistic flag-waving to the fore. It's party time. He closes with another oldie, 'Under My Wheels' with its 'Suffragette City' refrain (not even Bowie escapes).

And then, it really is curtains. Absolutely fucking riveting!

What a legend!

20th July, 1974 Long Beach, California

[though § is 4th December, 1974 Hammersmith, London and * are 25th June, 1975 Providence, Rhode Island and ~ is 28th June, 1975 Nassau Collisseum]

In 1974 an album was released called "EC was here" (following the success of '461 Ocean Boulevard') and, although it was fantastic, only three tracks per side were possible (20 minutes each for vinyl being the limit).

The full concert is a joy. This is God at his best.

It's hard to believe that it's the same person who releases such awful drivel as 'Lay Down Sally' & 'Wonderful Tonight.' I have an article somewhere with an interview from this 1974 period, where the journalist is a fellow called Robert Geldof. That chancer took a punt on the New Wave, reggae, then famine and got knighted by the UK for talking bollocks. Wonder what they'd give you for doing something useful?

Anyway, back to the show. What a band this was! Jamie Oldaker, Carl Radle, Dick Sims, George Terry, Marcy Levy & Yvonne Elliman On guitar, too, God.

Here's the track listing:

Smile

Have you ever loved a Woman

Presence of the Lord

Crossroads

I Shot the Sheriff

Layla

Little Wing

Can’t find my way home

Rambling on my Mind

§Willie & the Hand Jive / Get Ready

Badge

Drifting Blues

*Eyesight to the Blind

*Further on up the Road ~[The Sky is Crying appears on the box set "Give Me Strength"]

My mate used to play along to the original album and his dad (who'd been in a skiffle band) always used to stop to have a chat about guitar-players. He progressed to playing along to B.B. King records, too, and nagged me for my Freddie King albums. If you've not heard this, you're missing out. 'Smile' is the old Charlie Chaplin classic. Sometimes they would open with 'Stormy Monday.' The next track gets down to serious blues business. 'Have You Ever Loved a Woman?' remains a classic Clapton track and was on the original release. Things slow down for a ballad with gospel-type lyrics and a shared vocal. But it soon transforms into one of my favourite rock riffs and tracks of all time, before returning to its balladic conclusion. 'Presence of the Lord' was several years old by now but it's a killer. 'Crossroads' is standard blues fare, but 'I Shot the Sheriff' by Bob Marley injects some pleasant variety into proceedings. Should have done more of this stuff, in my opinion.

Odd & ironic that it was Eric who began the "Rock Against Racism" movement with his ridiculous support for Enoch Powell, especially in light of his constant rapport with black musicians and music. Weird. But look at the rewards: reggae and punk bands sharing a platform & the Police making an entire career out of it!

Back to the past and a blistering performance of 'Layla' is next. Jimi Hendrix's 'Little Wing' gets an extended affectionate airing. By now the limitations of the original vinyl (time constraints) are beginning to show. Already he's covered a comprehensive range of styles in majestic fashion. We're back to 1974 with the next two tracks. The first sounds like folk-rock with a female lead vocal. 'Can't Find my way Home' has a neat structure and the solo in D mirrors that in 'Layla' for quality.

'Rambling on my Mind' remains in many ways Clapton's blues hallmark and is the centre-piece of his set in this period. It begins quite slowly with a typical riff in E before veering off with a key-change in F# and exploding. More key-changes follow until it returns to its original key. It's staggering stuff and is sheer brilliance from a man at his peak. Light relief follows with a medley from "461 Ocean Boulevard." A jaunty version of 'Willie & the Hand Jive' (which segues into 'Get Ready') offers some breathing space from the blues. Time for another classic. 'Badge.' A double-version of double delight. Perhaps he should have stuck to the key of D.

When Bowie did his "drum 'n bass" club tour in 1997 he would open with 'Quicksand' and then start playing a blues riff on his acoustic guitar. Then he would sing the intro to this tune in homage to the blues, before morphing his song into 'The Jean Genie,' itself a kind of blues-pastiche. Clapton's version of ‘Drifting Blues’ is a light take on the traditional number, with more of an acoustic approach. 'Eyesight to the Blind' is a suitable stunning finale. Often joined by Santana in America for this, it could easily fill one side of vinyl. Those were the days, eh?

It all comes crashing down with the final number, 'Further on up the Road' written by Bobby Bland. A more fitting name you could not hope to have. What a bland track it is! It featured on the original album and was always ejected at this point. It jogs along but is pedestrian. However, the rest is unadulterated brilliance. Go for it.

Derek is Eric!