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Alice Cooper + Mötorhead

Glasgow SECC, 7th November 2007

The Glasgow leg of Alice Cooper's Psychodrama tour was one of the best Alice gigs I've ever been to. Which, by default, makes it one of the best gigs I've ever been to, period.

Surprise, surprise, we missed Joan Jett and the Blackhearts (two and three quarter hours on the road, M8 fans) but caught Motörhead, who played rock'n'roll, as ever, at ear-bleeding levels. The highlights of the set were definitely 'Going to Brazil' and my favourite ever Motörhead song, 'Killed by Death', but to be honest, I was just waiting for the main event.

The Alice Cooper show is like a marvellous holy ritual: it always follows a reassuringly similar format, it's life affirming and moralistic and everyone knows the words to the hymns. And, as the Minister of Mayhem's unmistakeable top-hat-and-tailed silhouette appears behind the backdrop, it's time to start worshipping.

True to the order of service, the show kicks off with a rousing medley of Cooper classics ('Hot Tonight', a rip-roaring 'Under My Wheels', 'Is It My Body', 'Muscle of Love', 'Feed My Frankenstein' and more) with a few newer tracks mixed in ('Woman of Mass Distraction' and 'Dirty Diamonds'). Alice himself is on fine form, striding around the stage wielding sword, whip and, er, maracas, dressed to kill (literally) in rhinestones, leather and a flouncy red shirt, like Liberace's long lost evil brother. Still looking younger at nigh on 60 than he did at the tender age of 25, he's sounding great too, with no signs of stress to his infamous snarly voice.

The current line up of geetar totty the Coop has assembled run the gamut of metal good looks, with something for everyone on offer – the babyglam, the Sailor Jerry tattooed '50s rocker and the classic rock male. And they're sounding tighter than ever, imprinting their heavier, garage sound on the older songs and making them their own. And nowhere is this more obvious than in their superbly grungy version of 'Halo of Flies', which segues into the nightmare section of the show.

'Only Women Bleed', the chillingly twisted 'Steven', 'Dead Babies' and the heart-wrenching 'Ballad of Dwight Frye' and then it's time for Evil Alice to get his comeuppance and dance a gallows jig – and somehow, the sight of our hero dangling from a noose seems much more disturbing than the usual decapitation and brandishing of a paper-maché head.

But fear not, because we know he will rise again, this time to the unmistakeable strains of 'School's Out' followed by 'Billion Dollar Babies', 'Poison' and a final, triumphant rendition of 'Elected', complete with Calico in the guise of Hilary Clinton.

There is truly nothing more elating, more exciting and more satisfying than the Alice Cooper show. While other ageing acts start to fall by the wayside, Alice just gets better and better – a pact with the devil or clean living and golf? Either way, he seems to have found the magic formula, and just keeps on rocking. Amen to that.

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