If the previous album, The Eyes of Alice Cooper, carried echoes of Killer and Love It to Death, this one takes it even further. In essence, much of the opening could just as well have been unearthed material from that era. In fact, only a few tracks break the pattern and would not fit as a missing link in Alice Cooper’s early career.
These are infectious songs that you find yourself humming or whistling, and the opening section as a whole is simply outstanding: Woman of Mass Destruction, Perfect—which feels almost flawless to my ears—and You Make Me Wanna come across as near-euphoric reflections. The title track, Dirty Diamonds, brings the sound partly back to Brutal Planet and Dragontown, while also flirting with the themes of James Bond films. Both the arrangement and certain lyrical elements lead me to that conclusion, though perhaps I am overanalyzing.
In any case, The Saga of Jesse Jane is undeniably a song with a sense of humor. While I would not go so far as to say that Alice Cooper is struggling to suppress laughter during the performance, there is a strong comedic tone here—very much in classic Alice Cooper fashion. The opening alone signals this: “I’m in jail in a Texas town / In my sister’s wedding gown,” followed in the chorus by: “Jesse Jane, are you insane? / Or are you just a normal guy / Who dresses like a butterfly?”—or the alternate version: “Jesse Jane, are you insane? / Or are you just an average Joe / Looking for a fashion show.” And it is hard to ignore lines like: “Well, I guess that was the final straw / I pulled my pistol from my wonderbra…”
If one were to summarize the album as a whole, it is strong in most respects and reflects Alice Cooper in a style that, in my view, suits him best. At the same time, this is also its weakness: there is nothing particularly new—everything feels like something he was already doing twenty years ago. That said, this is only partially true, as the title track and at least one other song have a noticeably more modern sound than most of the material.
Additionally, there is, to my knowledge, a true blues ballad on the record—something I have never heard from Alice Cooper before. It may not be revolutionary, but it is a refreshing addition and shows that he is not simply repeating old formulas but is actively trying to evolve. The track in question is Six Hours. It may be a pastiche, with fairly cliché chord progressions, but it is still genuinely strong music—and that is what ultimately matters.
I also take the liberty of completely disregarding the bonus track Stand, which, aside from Alice Cooper himself on vocals, includes rap. This is not a sound that benefits the album in any way, but since it is clearly marked as a bonus track, I will not include it in my final assessment and therefore do not need to penalize the album for this, in my view, unnecessary misstep. Overall, the impression remains very positive, with catchy music that, for the most part, sounds like the good old days.
