Sony G90 manual Perfect timing and careful choreography, Below-average vocal performance

creatures surround him, place him in a wooden

coffin, but suddenly, to our surprise, he bursts

out, runs through the screen, and lands on

stage, while the dancing spacemen remain in

the film. Soon, the aliens locate Cooper, and one

by one they smoothly jump from their places on film to the

stage. Before “Escape” concludes, Cooper and his pursuing

predators jump back into the film and onto the stage once

more, and the spacemen seize Cooper on stage. They carry

him off into the screen, where, on film, we see him taken over

the horizon, probably to his death. It is a scene that demands

perfect timing and careful choreography.

The performance on the Welcome to My Nightmare DVD

was filmed at London’s Wembley Arena in 1975. Sadly, even

though the original film was restored and its sound remixed,

the DVD still looks and sounds like a grainy B movie. It lacks

resolution, sharpness, and even cohesive audio. The sound

fades in and out, obnoxiously, as does the loudness of partic-

ular instruments. That Cooper was an alcoholic, and drunk at

Wembley (as he himself has said), doesn’t help either. He spo-

radically undershoots high notes and garbles lyrics, turning in

a below-average vocal performance.

If the quality of DVD is poor, why bother with it? Well, it’s

just too much fun to pass up. And despite its flaws, it comes

with an exclusive and highly informative 25-minute interview

in which Cooper explains his musical influences, supersti-

tions, and film heroes (Bette Davis, James Bond), as well as

the reasons why a male rock singer would invent a character

named Alice Cooper, and play that role onstage. There is

also an alternate version of Nightmare with a running

commentary by Cooper himself; as we watch, it seems

as though Cooper sits beside us while he describes the

film. He even mocks himself at times, saying that if he

could do Nightmare today, alcohol free, his vocals

would be better. Besides, Nightmare is a starting point

for those interested in the development of exotic fanta-

sy at rock concerts. And, I confess, the crude look of the

film gives Nightmare a certain cult-like feel. To put the

options on this DVD in context, I’d watch them in the

following order: The Cooper interview, Nightmare by

itself, and finally the version with Cooper’s commentary.

I can’t resist mentioning The Life and Crimes of

Alice Cooper [75680], Rhino’s new four-CD box set,

which makes a wonderful supplement to the Nightmare DVD.

The CDs arrange Cooper’s 32 years of music in chronological

order. If we listen in sequential fashion, we trace Cooper’s

rise, pinnacle, fall, and slight rebound. Discs one and two,

which span a period of 11 years (from 1966 to 1976), are

essential, and document Cooper’s most creative work.

From 1976 to 1985, Cooper battled drinking, spent time in

treatment, and recorded several forgettable concept albums

with which only he seemed to relate. Having lost most of his

original band to solo careers, Cooper chose to work with ses-

sion players rather than assemble a new group. In what may

have been an effort to lure the public, whose tastes lay with

disco at the time, Cooper embraced a disco-like sound, and

layers of excessive keyboards supersede his usual shrill, edge-

slicing guitars. He also drops his familiar diabolical snarl in

favor of a warm purr, a transformation that strips his music of

its adventurous edge. The team who assembled the box set

seem to recognize this; they included just 12 songs from the

six albums (all of them out of print in the US) that Cooper

released during these years,.

After alienating many of his fans, Cooper enjoyed a come-

back with 1989’s slick, hook-heavy Trash (which profited

from the last stages of the late Eighties hard-rock boom),

before sinking to an all-time low with 1991’s moronic Hey

Stoopid. Once fantastically original, Cooper’s lyrics and music

now became pathetic clichés. Several tracks on his later

albums, including songs from Trash and 1994’s The Last

Temptation, remarkably reveal Cooper to be a proficient

mainstream pop writer, a facet that, thankfully for his hard-

core fans, didn’t surface in his earlier works. The main reason

you’d buy this box is for the first two CDs and the compre-

hensive booklet inside.

I’m compelled to close with a wonderful quote from an

affectionate essay, specifically written for the box set by none

other than John Lydon (a.k.a. Johnny Rotten of Sex Pistols

fame): “There’s originality and then there’s always ten cheap

versions, and it’s a shame that it’s those versions people pay

attention to. They don’t want to find out the history of how

things emerged, and that’s too bad, because without any his-

torical perspective, nothing can make any sense…I love orig-

inality, and there’s nothing like Alice Cooper…before or since,

really. Alice Cooper…whatta man.” Indeed.

Radiohead: Meeting People Is Easy. Grant Gee (director).

Capitol. $19.99 (DVD; VHS).

The title is a sarcastic jab at music

journalists, hangers-on, and over-

zealous fans. The film, subtitled

“A Movie About Radiohead,” is a

chronological documentary that

traces the group’s 1997-98 tour

from its beginning to its conclu-

sion. Meeting does not glorify

Radiohead’s live performances (as

R.E.M.’s Roadshow does) or rock

star lifestyles (like Marilyn Man-

son’s Dead to the World). Nope,

this is exactly the opposite – if

there ever was any true-to-life film

made about the emptiness of

being a successful rock band, this is it.

Meeting is made from what seems to be a callous and

uninviting point of view. After watching it, we sense that

Radiohead was uncomfortable with its new fame after releas-

ing OK Computer, an album that not only won a Best Alter-

native Record Grammy in 1997, but also received critical

acclaim all over the world, landing on nearly every critic’s top

ten list. The film gives us a first-hand look at life through the

band’s eyes. We are placed in hotel rooms where our privacy

is invaded, swept onstage where no matter what we do, the

audience still wants more, and dumped in the band’s

car/bus/train/Lear jet (the film’s point seems to be that, it’s all

the same after a while), where everything is uncontrollably

moving around us. All these frantic experiences, and more,

constantly accompany Radiohead on their tour.

Personally, I find it difficult to empathize with rock stars,

but Meeting confronts my beliefs that famous rock celebri-

ties are luckier than everyday people. I lost count of the crit-

ics hounding the band, the profusion of printed record