Alice Cooper Records and Why You Should Have Known I Would Turn Out This Way

When I was a child in the early 80’s, we had a record cabinet (whoa…dating myself here) that contained both my books-on-record (these were awesome and came in Happy Meals instead of crappy plastic toys) and my parent’s records.  To keep me entertained, my parents would plug in the HUGE headphones (I swear they weighed several pounds, it was a feat of strength just to keep your head up in them as a kid), put my record on, and let me just sit there, read/listen to my book, and browse through their records in the cabinet.  I had three favorite album covers from their collection and I really think they were a telling sign that I would grow up to be this way.

My favorite cover was the Alice Cooper album, “From the Inside”.  It was a close-up of Alice in his trademark makeup with his pupils replaced by a photo of asylum inmates.  This album had little flaps on it that looked like doors.  When you opened the album, there was a two panel-wide photo of the interior of an insane asylum.  Each of the residents was different: one guy was a gambler, another was looking up a nurse’s skirt, one in army fatigues had an open umbrella…inside, etc.  There was nothing “cute” about it, most children would have been scared looking at it, or at the very least confused.  I LOVED it.  I closely examined each of the people in the photo and made up stories about why they were there.  I don’t remember any of these now and I’m pretty sure most of the reasons they were incarcerated were over my head.  I was a smart kid, but I didn’t really understand concepts like military PTSD, peeping toms, sex addiction, etc.  Didn’t matter though, I still pulled it out almost every time I used the stereo.

My second favorite cover was Queen’s “News of the World Tour” album.  The cover had a giant robot, who had ripped off the roof of a theater, reaching through the hole toward humans who are seen screaming and fleeing in terror.  Not really Saturday morning cartoon fare.  The inside of the album was a two panel-wide drawing of the robot with bloody dead humans in one hand and the finger of the other hand dripping blood.  The expression on the robot’s face is somewhere between confusion, sorrow, and regret.  Like what you might see on Lennie from ‘Of Mice and Men’: “I just wanted to hold them, I didn’t realize they were so fragile.”  It broke my little heart, he “didn’t mean to”.  Seriously, what kid empathizes with a giant robot who commits involuntary manslaughter?

 

Coming in third was the cover of the Kansas album, “Masque” which features the painting ‘Water” by Giuseppe Arcimboldo.  It is essentially the portrait of a man made entirely out of sea creatures.  Cute ones like an octopus and sea lion next to slimy looking fish and a nasty eel.  I feel the same way about the painting today as I did as a kid: part of me is impressed (laying all that out to make a recognizable shape was not an easy task), the other part of me is horrified.  It brings up the thoughts you have as a child about what might be lurking in the bottom of the lake when a piece of seaweed brushes your leg while swimming.   Even so, I would pore over the cover examining how all the pieces fit together – with a churning pit of unease in my stomach the whole time. 

I think, knowing this information, my parents should not have been surprised at all about how I turned out:

•  Goth sensibility and a plethora of black clothes.
•  Macabre interests and an unusually thorough knowledge of poisonous plants and forensic science.
• So many Halloween-themed items that my bathroom is permanently decorated in them, glow-in-the-dark dancing skeleton shower curtain included.
• Dark sense of humor, blade fetish, and unholy passion for Motionless in White and A.F.I.
• Love of horror movies and a bookshelf full of Baudelaire, Poe, Wilde, Joe Hill, Lovecraft, etc. 
• All black curtains to turn my bedroom into a permanently dusky haven that any bat would be proud to call home. 

I think that’s enough to prove my point.  I was never going to be a debutante.  My mother prayed that it was just a phase and she won’t admit it, but she’s still a little sad that I will never willingly don a baby pink cardigan and pearls or wear a wedding dress padded with so much tulle that your head looks like wedding cake topper on a human cupcake.  Hang onto your dreams, Mom, but hell will have to freeze over first.