Legendary rock figure Alice Cooper dives deep into the origins of his iconic theatrical persona and its impact on music history. In this exclusive interview, Cooper recounts pivotal moments in his career, from the infamous "chicken" incident to pioneering the use of makeup and elaborate stage antics long before bands like Kiss emerged. He discusses how horror movies shaped his comedic yet dark approach to performance art, reflects on memorable mishaps during tours, and shares his thoughts on aging gracefully within the rock genre. Through these reflections, Cooper reveals not only the essence of his enduring legacy but also the changing perceptions of theatrical rock over decades.

Decades ago, a young musician began crafting an image that would forever alter the landscape of rock music. This artist, known today as Alice Cooper, didn't set out to revolutionize the industry with flamboyant costumes and dramatic performances; instead, it happened organically through a combination of personal interests and natural inclinations. Growing up fascinated by classic horror films, Cooper developed a unique sense of humor—dark yet playful—that naturally translated into his music. As he explains, the era’s fascination with horror elements seamlessly integrated into the band’s sound and visual presentation without deliberate intent. Instead of copying other successful acts like The Yardbirds, Cooper allowed his inner creativity to guide him toward uncharted territory in rock entertainment.

The influence of Alice Cooper extended far beyond just his own band. Before artists such as David Bowie or groups like Kiss became synonymous with theatrical rock, Cooper was already paving the way. According to Cooper himself, Bowie attended their concerts while still honing his craft as a mime artist, later crediting them for inspiring his own artistic evolution. Meanwhile, Cooper jokingly claims credit for teaching Kiss where to purchase their makeup—a nod to the significant role his group played in normalizing extravagant appearances in mainstream music. Each act subsequently carved out distinctive personas: Bowie embraced space-age themes, Elton John channeled glitzy elegance reminiscent of Liberace, and Cooper himself embodied the mysterious phantom archetype. Despite overlapping styles, Cooper insists there was never competition among peers since each pursued separate creative paths.

Though Cooper's shows are renowned for their spectacle, they haven't always gone according to plan. One particularly humorous anecdote involves attempting to launch Cooper out of a massive cannon during a stadium concert. While the stunt seemed impressive on paper, reality proved less predictable. Midway through execution, the dummy meant to simulate Cooper got stuck inside the cannon, leading to an awkward pause onstage. Rather than panicking, Cooper handled the situation with characteristic humor, acknowledging the mishap before moving forward. Such instances underscore both the challenges and joys inherent in incorporating complex props and special effects into live performances. Yet despite occasional setbacks, Cooper remains proud of pushing boundaries within the realm of rock theater.

As Cooper approaches his late seventies, he continues touring actively, defying conventional wisdom about age limits in rock music. When asked about comments made by fellow legends like Grace Slick, who suggested musicians over fifty shouldn’t perform rock songs, Cooper offers a lighthearted yet insightful response. Drawing parallels between surviving global crises and enduring musical careers, Cooper jokes about figures like Keith Richards being among the last remnants of humanity alongside Twinkies and cockroaches. His perspective highlights resilience and passion driving lifelong dedication to one’s craft. For Cooper, performing isn’t merely about maintaining relevance—it’s about celebrating the timeless appeal of rock music through authentic expression.