We thought if you had a name like Alice Cooper, an all-American girl’s name, there would be some shock value there. We thought of someone like Mary Travers of Peter, Paul & Mary—out there singing folksongs with long blonde hair playing guitar. Instead, it was these five confused cross-dressers.

We were rebels in our own way. When all of us were together, nobody could really intimidate us.

—before I joined the band—with Dennis, Glen, Mike and Vince, they actually played in Arizona where they were chased out of town and people were shooting guns at them. Any place else was easy compared to that.

Neal Smith

One Long Party

We were the group that drove the stake through the heart of the love generation,” Alice Cooper has famously claimed. And it was drummer Neal Smith who did the pounding.

It was 1971, and the nationwide bad vibes doled out by the Rolling Stones-Hell’s Angels rock ‘n’ roll meltdown at Altamont two years earlier still had America spooked. The Vietnam War was raging; Watergate was brewing; riots, assassinations, and protests had taken their toll. People wanted to take it down a notch. They wanted to mellow out for a while. And what could possibly be mellower than John Denver, the Osmonds, and Dawn? Looking back, it was probably not the best time for a deafening rock ‘n’ roll band with an elaborate stage show that included boa constrictors, a hangman, giant robot monsters, and a simulated beheading. Good thing nobody told Alice Cooper. While Three Dog Night was happily introducing a bullfrog named Jeremiah, Cooper came careening out of Phoenix, Arizona on a cheap beer buzz screaming, “Welcome to my nightmare.”

Powered by one of the toughest bands ever assembled—guitarists Glen Buxton and Michael Bruce, bassist Dennis Dunaway, and powerhouse drummer Neal Smith—Cooper took the country by storm, releasing hits like “I’m Eighteen,” “Under My Wheels,” “Be My Lover” and “Billion Dollar Babies.” From behind his massive, 20-drum Slingerland kit, Neal Smith had the best seat in the house. Now playing with longtime friend Joe Bouchard of Blue Oyster Cult, Smith took time from his successful, Connecticut real estate business to look back on his early days with Cooper.

Can you tell me a little bit about your current group, Bouchard, Dunaway, Smith?

Joe Bouchard was the original bass player for Blue Oyster Cult and was my neighbor here in Connecticut. We got to be friends when Alice Cooper was touring the South with Blue Oyster Cult in the 1970s. Dennis and I start writing together in the early ’80s. Dennis was the original bass player for Alice Cooper. There was a big summer festival in southwest Connecticut called the Norwalk Oyster Festival. Cyndi Lauper was scheduled to be the headliner, but had to cancel on fairly short notice. We knew the people who were booking the festival so we got the gig. One thing led to another from there. We’ve done a couple of albums and did a European tour in 2003.

What drum are you using these days?

I am only playing only about 10 drums now, including double bass drums. I still need at least six tom toms for songs like “Black Juju” and other Alice Cooper songs. My biggest set was in the early 1970s—it actually had 20 drums in it! I had the first mega kit. I still have the silver sparkle Slingerlands. They came after the chrome set that I used on “Love it to Death.” When we cut the song “Eighteen,” I had 18 drums in the set for that session.

Who were your early musical inspirations?

My mother was a huge big band fan. That got me interested in Gene Krupa, who in turn, got me interested in Slingerland drums. He was the king of the drummers. I’m not into meeting famous people like actors or politicians, but Gene Krupa was the exception. He was the icon of all icons. He had talent and charisma. I liked Sandy Nelson and Buddy Rich, too. During the “Billion Dollar Babies” tour, I found out Gene wanted to meet me. He said he’d heard about this guy with a huge drum kit and wanted to see how I did it. Gene died before we met, but the fact Gene even knew my name was amazing to me.

What were those early days of Alice Cooper like for you?

Everything was very tongue in cheek for us—even the band’s name. In the original concept of the band, we wanted something that was a name that would be totally different from the band. We thought if you had a name like Alice Cooper, an all-American girl’s name, there would be some shock value there. We thought of someone like Mary Travers of Peter, Paul & Mary—out there singing folksongs with long blonde hair playing guitar. Instead, it was these five confused cross-dressers.

You mentioned that Alice Cooper toured the South. Wasn’t that a bit of a challenge in the seventies?

When we went to the South, we played places with tons of bikers—same thing in the Midwest, too. We played one show where the bikers really hassled the band. One of the girls had a low-cut t-shirt on and she was yelling at Glen. He had a cigarette and flipped the ashes right in her t-shirt, right in her cleavage. All the bikers thought it was the coolest thing in the world and they loved us after that. We were actually very similar to them. We were rebels in our own way. When all of us were together, nobody could really intimidate us.

We were pretty much fearless. We weren’t intimidated by anybody. We used to get in fights and we’d win the fights. Before the band became Alice Cooper—before I joined the band—with Dennis, Glen, Mike and Vince, they actually played in Arizona where they were chased out of town and people were shooting guns at them. Any place else was easy compared to that.

I was an ex-greaser, turned surfer turned musician so if somebody started to fight me, I’d beat the crap out of them. Glen was the same way. Just look at the band. There were people who were scared to death of Alice Cooper. We had a chance to play a show with Billy Bob Thornton and his band. He told us that he was not allowed to leave the house to come to our shows. He was living in Little Rock, when he came to see our show and had to sneak out of the house. His parents would have killed him if they’d known he had gone to our show.

You have referred to those days as one long party.

By party I mean everything—the women, the money, the limousines, and the jets. It just escalated and escalated. We had a great time all the time. We just laughed all the time. Whether we were traveling in the car or a plane, we were always horsing around but it was all creative, and we were coming up with things. We’d get up in the mornings and start drinking beers all day. We were young; we had tons of energy.

Have the members of Alice Cooper considered a reunion tour?

We’ve discussed it a few times. Alice is immersed in his solo tour, but we still talk about it occasionally. There’s talk of it, but nothing major has been planned. We’ve gotten together over the years. Alice has this wonderful fundraising event around Christmas, Alice Cooper’s Christmas Pudding, at a theatre in Phoenix. Mike, Bruce, and I went down for the grand opening of Alice’s restaurant, Alice Cooper’s Town. If it is something that all four of us think is a good thing, we might do it—but not a full-scale world tour like some bands are doing. It’s never off the table, but we have to see what happens. I would certainly be the first one to be there. These guys are my best friends in the world and always have been.

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