flush the fashion (1980) – alice cooper: warner bros records, BSK-3436

There’s an old wives tale that says sharks must continuously move forward in order to pass water along their gills, and that if they ever stop moving, they will die.

It’s not really true, but the metaphor is powerful, and often used as inspiration.

Thanks to Pete Townshend, Rock has a somewhat related old saying: I hope I die before I get old. The idea here is that “old” doesn’t mean aged, but archaic in attitude and style. In other words, not constantly moving forward (stay with me here, because I am going somewhere with this).

So, in order to survive, musicians, like the shark, have to continuously keep moving forward in terms of growth and development or risk stagnating and being relegated to the heap of dead acts languishing in the “where are they now” file.

See, I told you this was going somewhere.

Evidently this idea must have resonated with Vince Furnier (aka Alice Cooper), because it seems to be the only logical explanation for his decision to suddenly abandon the harder metal rock style with which he established his success and embrace new wave (of all things) with the release of the album Flush the Fashion.

And despite the success of the album, the result is exactly as awkward, ill-fitting, and uncomfortable as one might expect when a metal guy decides to go new wave.

Side 1: Talk Talk Clones (We’re All) Pain Leather Boots Aspirin Damage
Side 2: Nuclear Infected Grim Facts Model Citizen Dance Yourself To Death Headlines

Leaving the unfamiliarity with new wave music aside for a moment, the songs on this album are all very familiar ground for Alice Cooper, focusing on the questions of sanity, identity, and the oppressive nature of society. In fact, there's a strong similarity between the nature of these songs and those on Billion Dollar Babies, which dealt with similar generalities only through different specifics.

Many of the songs on the album are quite good. Clones, Model Citizen, and Talk Talk are catchy, have some clever lyrics, and more than a little of the sort of sardonic humor so closely associated with Alice Cooper. And Pain is right in line with other potent emotionally honest confessions from previous albums.

So, what’s the problem with the album? I guess I just can't get past this new wave thing, and wonder about the bizarre compulsion Alice Cooper had to record in this way. The use of electronic percussion, auto-tune background, synths, and other conventions commonly associated with Flock of Seagulls or Duran Duran just make it too jarring - like expecting water and getting vodka. It's made even worse because there is really no reason for it. It’s not like the sort of glam-rock which Alice Cooper helped create was out of style.  Glam-influenced bands like Def Leppard and Quiet Riot were huge in the early 80’s, so one would think that Alice Cooper would be more than in his element, what with him being the damn paterfamilias of that genre, and all.

That irreconcilable incongruity really stood out at this listen. It’s almost as if this were a novelty record, kind of like if Black Flag were to release a 12” disco single, or if Andy Williams or Pat Boone were to release a heavy metal album.

Oh, wait, that last one actually happened.

The point is, this just doesn’t fit. And apparently Alice Cooper agreed, because the albums following this tended to go back to his normal style, saving us from the Alice Cooper ska album.

 Up next: A trio progresses