Review Summary: Alice embraces the bandwagon
After two albums of co-opting hair metal tropes to supplement his comeback, 1989’s Trash was the album where Alice Cooper completely gives into the movement. All the edges are sanded off and an influx of guests and session musicians led by producer/songwriter Desmond Child culminates in a pristine presentation fitting for the era. “House of Fire” is a Bon Jovi song right down to half of that band playing on it and “Poison” sounds like what came out after a suit told Alice to write something ‘like Poison’ and he took it too literally.
Consequently, this might be the Alice Cooper album where he sounds the least like himself. Granted that sneering vocal couldn’t belong to anybody else but the lyrics feel like the sort that basically anybody could write, mostly revolving around sexual matters without too much of his signature sarcasm or conceptual framing at play. There might be some eccentricity in a title like “This Maniac’s in Love with You,” but it isn’t quite the horror metal deep dive ala his last couple ventures. It’s not really a dealbreaker in terms of quality, but it’s easy to recognize a certain element that’s missing here compared to his classics.
These sins are just about forgiven by the songwriting as Alice and his extensive team of players craft a platter of insanely catchy songs. “Poison” and “House of Fire” were hits for a reason, the former presenting its hooks through an atmospheric veil while the latter goes all in with its simple rock beats and infectious refrains. “Spark in the Dark” and “Bed of Nails” are also effective pop metal numbers with slinky verses and more sing-along choruses supplemented by guitar acrobatics that keep things from feeling too dumbed down.
Even the power ballads manage to be solid as “Only My Heart Talkin’” opts for the sentimental role punctuated by climactic rasps courtesy of Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler while “Hell is Living Without You” completely gives way to some very synth-heavy melodrama. I can also appreciate the title track and the closing “I’m Your Gun” adding a little extra sleaze to the mix though they end up being the weakest songs, the former’s riff set not quite connecting and the latter’s starting back-and-forth spoken word coming off somewhat awkwardly.
While Trash may not be the first album that comes to mind when you think Alice Cooper, it certainly has its place in his legacy. If Constrictor and Raise Your Fist and Yell saw him updating his macabre aesthetics for the late eighties, then Trash does the same for his pop sensibility. The musicianship manages to be tight and cohesive even with less of a definitive lineup and even the weakest tracks manage to throw in a memorable chorus. If the Halloween party you’re planning ends up turning into an orgy, this might not be a bad album to have on standby.
