 |
Alice Cooper - Dada
List Price: $12.98Our Price: $8.24You Save: $4.74 (37%)Availability: Usually ships in 1-2 business days Category: Music CD See more new music releases
Music CD CoverArtist: Alice Cooper Edition: Music CD Audio: English (Original Language) Format: Import CD Release Date: 1992-01-01 Music Label: Warner Bros UK Soundtracks: - DaDa
- Enough's Enough
- Former Lee Warmer
- No Man's Land
- Dyslexia
- Scarlet And Sheba
- I Love America
- Fresh Blood
- Pass The Gun Around
Free Music Notes for DadaFree Music Review: Unexpected Creepy Genius Hit: 5 Stars
When Alice parted ways with his original band and struck out on his own, he started with the brilliant "Welcome to my Nightmare," and then the nearly as brilliant "Goes to Hell," largely on the strength of the fantastic band he had backing him. Ever since then, his output has rarely had the continuous kind of spark of dark genius he'd had. Nevertheless, from time to time, he kicks out an album that is flat-out jaw-dropping. "Brutal Planet" is one such, and "Dada" is another.
There is quite literally nothing else like this in all of Alice's output, and considering that it was released the same year as "Zipper Catches Skin," perhaps his most novelty-like album, one can hardly begin to guess from what part of his lower psyche this grand galleon of an album became unmoored and sailed into public view. Doubtless, it has something to do with Bob Ezrin, and the return of Dick Wagner on guitar (who'd been instrumental on "Welcome to my Nightmare" and "Goes to Hell").
Whether or not the disc comprises a concept album as a whole, the first three songs are certainly interrelated. "Dada," the opener (written by Ezrin), is a genuinely creepy, even moving and strange combination of heavy percussive accents, keyboards, grand tubular bells, a girl's voice repeating "dada" throughout, and a mumbled, half-comprehensible conversation between a psychiatric patient and his therapist. The patient's monologue, to say nothing of the way it is layered, echoed, and delivered, is a masterpiece of schizophrenic ramble. There's one line, "I have a son," that trebles with almost a catch of sadness in the father's voice that makes the last line, "Where's my boy?" almost painful to listen to. In the context of the first three songs, this is a portrait of the father, who is blisteringly criticized in the next piece.
"Enough's Enough," is much more straightforward, and describes a somewhat gothic tale of a mother's death, and the evil father, who now has his son totally in his power. Nevertheless, for the first time in his catalogue, Alice seems to be attacking the figure of his own father, the one who punches him in the nose in "No More Mr. Nice Guy." Again, to Alice's credit, as in the opening song, the characterization of the father seems to be allowed space to be itself. Here the father is sarcastic and cruel, instead of crazy, and Alice declares, "I just want to tell you, you're a lousy Dad, to hell with you. Enough's enough, enough's enough," as if finally exorcising that ghost. The song also has the enigmatic line, "Hey Dad, why'd you hide your brother." It seems like the next song answers this question.
"Former Lee Warmer" bears some resemblance to Cooper's other epic, the "Steven" cycle. In this particular case, it tells the story of someone who has been locked away upstairs since forever. "All the mops and brooms keep him company / Misconceived of the family." This might be the father's hidden brother. Narrative matters aside, this is a particularly lush and handsome piece musically, full of details (notice the locked-up brother's moans almost lost in the mix), touches, and brilliant arrangement. If there is any one song that shows how genuinely Cooper owns a particular musical terrain where Gothic sensibility is utterly at home, this is it. Gorgeous.
The next three songs also seem to form something of a trilogy as well, as the main character throughout seems to be engaging in various confusing attempts at love affairs. In "No Man's Land" in particular Alice ventures into territory not normally explored by him--a kind of boy meets girl, uptempo ballad (where both characters are actually alive). The song particularly shows what Alice's most previous three album's could've been like with better attention to production, since it is largely just a straightforward rocker--at least until the multiple personality disorder of the narrator comes out. A very solid song.
"Dyslexia" starts off with a keyboard driven riff of all things, with some fat acoustic accents. Again, while theoretically something like the kind of novelty song one might find on "Flush the Fashion," the lushness of the production, the many canny details, turn it into something far grander. One almost fails to notice that the song is about yet another mental condition--though one far less severe than in the previous four songs.
"Scarlet and Sheba" is a genuinely epic and gorgeous piece about vampires, that starts off with a really handsome, eastern-influenced passage. The particular combination here of sex kitten sensibility, vampirism, love song, and thick lush instrumentation is very satisfying--the eastern-influenced passages even more so. The guitar solo, as one expects from Dick Wagner, is also especially fine.
The song leads immediately into "I Love America," which is Alice's left-handed send up of 80s male shtick--although to be fair, the whole thing is delivered with so much enthusiasm and almost kooky charm ("I'm graj-ee-ated but I ain't to bright" "I got a job but hell I'm still in debt") that it's hard not to buy it at face-value. Like the even-handed characterization of the father in "Dada," the character is given enough rope to hang himself.
"Fresh Blood" is the second vampire song on the album, although the main character may be finding victims for a "he" or hunting for himself. Could this be one of the main character's four personalities? Is this the same guy who was hanging out with Scarlet and Sheba? One can't tell for certain, but the tantalizing suggestion of this is one of the things that makes the album seem to knit together so effectively. The music here, as well, is heavy ("lugubrious" is the word I really want to use), infectious, and gets into your blood (no pun intended).
"Pass the Gun Around" as the final song on the album is not only another of Alice's suicide narrations, but it also serves as a kind of finale to the overall narrative that may or may not be running through the album. In this respect, it is a particularly grim end--as a response to the family trauma of the opening songs that scar the main character and apparently thwart his search love in some of the rest of the songs. It also serves as a final condemnation of the lousy, insane father from the opening. But these thematic issues aside, the music here is especially committed and strong--the guitar solo is achingly powerful (David Gilmour would've been proud of it if he'd played it), and Alice's singing is more heart-felt than perhaps he's ever been, or at least since "I Never Wrote Those Songs." Undoubtedly one of the greatest songs Alice has ever committed to disc, this certainly warrants buying the disc itself. And, of course, during the fade out, the sudden and startling gunshot is the same drum accent that opened the album, followed, of course, by one last "dada".
As a wholly unexpected thing, this album was an astonishment at the time that it came out, despite its miserable sales. But even today, it is still a powerful, varied, and altogether wholly satisfying disc. While nothing like the original Alice Cooper band's output, and nothing like the knowing winks of his more recent stuff, this bravely straightforward, as-close-to-unironic-as-Cooper-ever-gets disc shows just how much genuine narrative power and affect he is capable of generating--all wrapped up in magnificently composed, arranged and performed music. An absolute must-have from Cooper's output--just don't expect it to be like anything else he's done.
|
 |