As his persona and as the leader of the American shock rock band Alice Cooper, the man named Vincent Furnier at birth must have appeared to some as the devil incarnate, the man who was leading the nations younger music lovers astray with the bands songs which suggested and spoke of subjects such as necrophilia, political instability and shocking church groups. Looking back with 40 years of hindsight, Alice Cooper’s sixth studio album, Billion Dollar Babies, it is nothing more than sensational and shows the leader of this much talked of group as nothing more than perhaps the ultimate music showman, the Barnum of the staged three ring rock circus.

Billion Dollar Babies even after 40 years has the ability to stand out as arguably the best album of the early career of Alice Cooper and one of the finest to come from the American rock cupboard in the 1970s. It still has the power to shock listeners upon first listen with some of the lyrics but it also has the staying power to have songs plucked from it at random and grab the listener’s attention straight away. This is no shrinking violet of an album; this is in your face American rock and roll mayhem that many have tried to copy but in which so few get near to equalling.

The showman is there from the start, Barnum with a constrictor wrapped and coiled around his neck with the added bonus of terrifyingly chilling and delightful vocals that burn into your head and that are gorgeously impossible to be rid of. The three ring circus is in operation, the band is ready to start as the flashes of gunpowder go off before your eyes and the man steps out, the musical beast that is Alice Cooper announces himself to an awaiting world and the journey through the dark thoughts begin in earnest.

The vocals scream the introduction, “Hello, Hooray” is the standard bearing welcome and the band commence to give the grandest electronic showmanship possible, it works completely and even before the opening lyrics are even barely out of his mouth, the hook has been dangled and there is very little hope of escape.

The opening track alludes to this and the band’s acknowledgment that what they are providing is entertainment for those that take part in the music. The lyrics read, “Ready as this audience coming here to dream…” the showman is recognising that it is a stage show, an hour in which to show that the music is all to those in the auditorium or at home listening to every beat. The words are perhaps also a slight nod to Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream; all is not what it seems in the realm of Oberon and certainly not in the world of Alice Cooper. This is Puck at his most charming, at his most disrespectful and most dream-like, the man who can make nightmares seem plausible and in which the listener is transformed for a while. The audience love what’s happening as much as the master showman does, Barnum is not just introducing every act for the pleasure and anticipation of the audience; he is amongst them taking amusement at their trip into carnality and indulgence.

The Ringmaster turns would be politician later in the album in the song Elected. It’s catch guitar riff and lyrics don’t hold back as the analogies flow, whether the allusion to prime steak or the gold Rolls Royce or even playing the number one card in American politics, the imagery of Uncle Sam being behind the candidate is one that would sit well with any potential voter. The would be politician is appealing to the lowest possible denominator and that is the one with the loudest message wins. There is no argument in the song; it just revolves around the one simple turn of phrase, “I wanna be elected” over and over again. It is a simple song in theory but it is astoundingly good and sits with the likes of the title track and the incredible No More Nice Guy.

No More Mr Nice Guy is perhaps the most famous of all the songs on the album; it has appeared in films such as Shocker and was covered superbly by Megadeth as a stand-alone single. It is song of quality, of such powerful emotion and disgruntled feelings that it is almost anthem like in its appeal to a disaffected youth. The song hangs on the invisible, a person on the margins of society for whatever reason that even to be seen with them would be to court scandal. The person in the song has done no wrong, readily admits to helping those around him but because of the gossip in the papers all of a sudden he and his family are outcast. It alludes to the anonymous all the way through the song, the picking off of those ready to be something different, whether it is as a cartoonish character in a rock band which thrills millions or as a million of other things that would cause blue rinse brigades to choke on their tea in moral outrage. At no point does the accused have a name; it is this that gives it resonance that everybody is under fire. This is further enhanced by the only named character in the song, the Reverend Smith, one of the most common names in the English language hand in hand with clergy. The songs seems to suggest that only the common good is decided by those who can confirm and any suggestion of individuality, any pretence to showmanship must be stamped down.

Perhaps strangely for the time there is not a weak song on the album, the brash and confident stroll along happily with the unashamed and brazen. Each song captures the mood in which it was intended and in which only 1975s Welcome To My Nightmare and 1989s Trash can come close to emulating for its overall forcefulness and intensity.

A true legend of the American Rock genre in a time when the roof was about to come crashing in on American politics as Richard Nixon was inaugurated for his second term and the true manipulation and paranoia of the White House would begin, a year in which saw the peace accord brokered in Vietnam and Watergate rear its head. Alice Cooper’s Billion Dollar Babies would seem like innocent child’s play amongst the times that would afflict America in the year ahead. An outstanding album full of vigour and incredible imagery in which not much coming out of America at the time could match and was only bettered the indisputable high that would follow a few weeks later on this side of the Atlantic as Pink Floyd prepared to release the behemoth that would become Dark Side of The Moon.

Ian D. Hall