When two legends of heavy music share a stage, it’s either magic or a money grab. But when those legends are Judas Priest and Alice Cooper, both still touring behind recent albums and both still firing on all cylinders, you get something very special. That’s exactly what went down at Mountain View’s Shoreline Amphitheatre this past Tuesday night, October 14, as the Shield of Pain tour rolled through the Bay Area.
Southern sludge vets Corrosion of Conformity opened the evening. Though I missed their set, COC remains a vital force in heavy music, their sound still nodding to their punk roots while delivering the thick, crushing grooves they’ve perfected over decades.
Mixing Grand Guignol theatrics with subversive political satire and a heaping dose of black humor, Alice Cooper has influenced everyone from KISS to the Sex Pistols. Cooper took the stage first, and within seconds, it was clear this wasn’t going to be some nostalgia act phoning it in. Opening with the obscure “Who Do You Think We Are” from his 1981 album Special Forces, Cooper immediately signaled he wasn’t interested in just running through the obvious hits. That song, from one of his new wave-tinged “blackout albums” (so-called because Cooper has no memory of recording it due to his struggles with substance abuse at the time), was a nice surprise that set the tone for an evening full of theatrical mayhem. With guitar prodigy Nita Strauss and Ryan Roxie (who cut his teeth in power pop cult legends Candy and later Electric Angels) anchoring a killer 6-piece band, Cooper delivered a performance that was equal parts rock concert and horror show, cranked up to eleven and soaked in fake blood.
Cooper’s production values remain ridiculously high. The stage set was elaborate, the theatrics scary, surreal, and campy at once (recalling Disneyland’s Haunted Mansion in spots), and the commitment to the bit never wavered. His wife Sheryl Cooper, joined the show as a murderous ballerina, adding another layer to the controlled chaos. This is Cooper’s Alice’s Attic tour, and the whole thing felt like rummaging through a deviant carnival funhouse where every corner held new grotesqueries. But beneath all the multimedia, guillotines, and giant monsters, there’s still a highly charged good rock and roll band. Cooper’s voice sounded strong, the band was tight, and crucially, there were no backing tracks. Everything you heard was being played live, right there, which is increasingly rare in an era where even legendary acts often supplement their sound with pre-recorded elements.
What makes Cooper’s continued relevance so impressive is that he’s not just coasting on “School’s Out” and “Poison.” He’s still putting out new music and making it count. His recent releases prove he’s not content to be a heritage act, and the energy on stage backs that up. At 77 years old, Cooper moves like someone half his age, prowling the stage with the manic energy that’s been his trademark for over five decades.
Forging the sound of the original New Wave of British Heavy Metal (NWOBHM), Judas Priest created the leather-and-studs blueprint that became standard issue for virtually every new metal band in the early to mid ’80s. Now, some 50 years later, the band took the stage, and the atmosphere shifted from horror show spectacle to pure, unadulterated heavy metal mayhem. Priest’s stage set was equally elaborate, featuring striking visuals and video screens displaying social commentary and metaphorical images that added weight to the proceedings. This wasn’t just a metal show; it was a statement of intent that the band would not be resting on its laurels.
Rob Halford remains the Metal God, and there’s simply no arguing with that title. At 73, his voice is a force of nature. That falsetto still soars, and his numerous costume changes added a dramatic edge to his earnest but slightly animated delivery. He’s not just singing these songs, he’s living them, and the crowd responded in kind, chanting along to every refrain.
Guitarist Glenn Tipton was noticeably absent from the lineup due to his ongoing battle with Parkinson’s disease, but producer and guitarist Andy Sneap (known for his work with NWOBHM revivalists Hell and thrash pioneers Sabbat) filled in admirably alongside Richie Faulkner. The twin guitar attack that’s defined Priest’s sound for decades was still intact, and if you didn’t know the backstory, you’d never guess this wasn’t quite the classic lineup. Sneap knows these songs inside and out (he produced their recent albums Firepower and Invincible Shield), and his chemistry with Faulkner was excellent. Like Cooper, Priest used no backing tracks, which meant every note, every solo, every scream was set in real-time. That’s increasingly rare and infinitely more satisfying.
The setlist was a masterclass in pacing and song selection, mixing classics like “Hell Patrol,” “Breaking the Law,” and “Painkiller” with deeper cuts and newer material. The crowd ate it all up. Priest has been experiencing something of a renaissance over the past couple of decades as traditional metal has made a serious comeback, and Tuesday night’s turnout reflected that. The Shoreline was packed, and the fans ranged from grizzled heshers who worshipped Priest in the ’80s to younger converts discovering what genuine heavy metal sounds like.
What struck me most about the evening was how well these two acts complemented each other. On paper, Alice Cooper’s spooky, theatrical rock and Judas Priest’s traditional metal assault might seem like an odd pairing. But both acts represent a commitment to putting on a real show, to giving the audience something to remember, and to playing their asses off without relying on studio trickery or nostalgia cash grabs. Both have recent albums (Priest’s 2024 Invincible Shield and Cooper’s brand-new The Revenge of Alice Cooper), both are still writing and recording, and both clearly still love what they do.
In an era where so many tours feel like victory laps or paycheck grabs, Judas Priest and Alice Cooper are proof that legacy acts can still be vital, still be dangerous, and still refuse to go through the motions. This wasn’t a trip down memory lane. These were two bands at the top of their game, reminding everyone why they became legends in the first place.
For questions, comments, or something you’d like to see, drop me a note.
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This column is dedicated to the music and memory of the great Ace Frehley.
