Having seen Alice Cooper dozens of times over the years, I’m always astounded when I meet people who haven’t flocked to witness his morbid extravaganza. Great music and great entertainment—what more could you ask for? The Too Close For Comfort tour is yet another opportunity to catch the Master of Macabre headlining before he joins Judas Priest this fall for a 22-city run. That tour kicks off on September 16th in Biloxi, Mississippi, with stops in Cincinnati, Phoenix, Los Angeles, and more, before wrapping up on October 26th in Houston, Texas.

Cooper has been delivering his electrifying, theatrical performances for decades, and for me, it never gets old. The outdoor venue at Atrium Health Amphitheater was dangerously close to being drenched by an extreme thunderstorm. Luckily, Alice and the gang hit the stage right at 7:30, narrowly avoiding a downpour and ensuring the audience stayed dry for the show.

From the opening chords of “Lock Me Up” into the thunderous “Welcome to the Show,” Cooper prowled the stage, sword raised, commanding attention with the ease of a seasoned magician. His voice, surprisingly robust at 77, resonated fiercely, bringing timeless classics like “No More Mr. Nice Guy” vividly to life. The crowd matched Cooper’s energy beat-for-beat, roaring their approval as the first familiar riffs pierced the Georgia night.

His performance of “I’m Eighteen” perfectly captured the rebellious spirit of his youth, with a touch of irony—most of us in the crowd were far from eighteen. Cooper himself was just 22 when the song debuted in 1970. The moment culminated in him theatrically hoisting a battered wooden crutch, a sly nod to the song’s adolescent angst. Standing so close to the stage, I almost lost my head when he swung it—it was amazing to be that close. Guitarists Ryan Roxie and Tommy Henriksen faced off in an electric duel, their guitars howling as the audience chanted along in ecstatic unison.

“Under My Wheels” and “Bed of Nails” surged with relentless energy, each song seamlessly transitioning into the next, blending musical excellence with theatrical brilliance. The stage transformed from neon cityscapes to haunting graveyards as Cooper launched into “Billion Dollar Babies,” scattering faux bills into the grasping hands of fans. For “Snakebite,” the theatrics reached a new level: a crew member delivered a live boa constrictor, which Cooper draped across his shoulders, eliciting delighted gasps and screams from the crowd.

The band’s synchronization was flawless. Bassist Chuck Garric and drummer Glen Sobel formed a powerhouse rhythm section, their grooves reverberating deep into the bones of everyone in attendance. Sobel’s mesmerizing drum solo, peppered with intricate beats and playful nods to “Black Juju,” earned thunderous applause.

Guitar virtuoso Nita Strauss took center stage next, igniting the crowd with an explosive solo that fused classical precision with raw metal aggression. Her lightning-fast fingers shredded through the “Black Widow Jam,” setting the stage for Cooper’s ominous return. Strauss is, without a doubt, one of the most captivating guitarists in the world right now, and it was an absolute treat to watch her shred all night.

As the haunting chords of “Welcome to My Nightmare” filled the air, Cooper appeared in a silk smoking jacket, lantern flickering, fully embodying the twisted showman persona fans adore. He seamlessly transitioned into the disturbingly humorous “Cold Ethyl,” waltzing grotesquely with a rag-doll corpse before flinging it dramatically into the ecstatic crowd—a morbid dance only Alice Cooper could pull off.

No Alice Cooper show would be complete without its descent into madness. “Ballad of Dwight Fry” transformed the stage into a chilling asylum, with Cooper writhing in a straightjacket as his wife Sheryl, dressed as a sinister nurse, administered a mock injection. The crowd’s excitement peaked with the arrival of the infamous guillotine. In a spectacle of perfect theatrical timing, Alice was “executed” before a stunned and cheering audience. His decapitated head—eerily realistic—was triumphantly displayed as the band thundered through “I Love the Dead,” celebrating rock’s ultimate showman.