Alice Cooper - School's Out (USED)

USED 1972 Pressing. Includes original Pink Panty underwear! Incredibly clean! Early pressing: die-cut legs have never been folded-out! / MEDIA looks NEAR Mint- Just super clean! / ARTWORK is nearly perfect. Upon close inspection, there is a tiny bit of wear at the bottom left corner of the opening desk design.

With 1971's Killer, Alice Cooper released a classic album that encompassed psychedelia, horror movies, musicals, prog, and biker rock and compressed it all into timeless nuggets of hard rock gold. It also propelled the band into the rarified upper reaches of the charts and into larger concert halls too. While the next step for most bands would be to stick to the formula and double down on the hooks in ever more commercial ways, these weirdoes did nearly the opposite on 1972's School's Out. Apart from the brilliantly, brutally dumb title track, which does indeed strip their sound down to the thrilling basics and unleashes a perfect marriage of naggingly sharp riffs, hilarious lyrics, and sneering vocals -- the album flies off on weird tangents that are barely related to anything the band had done before -- and the last thing one might expect from them. Case in point: the late-night jazz ballad "Blue Turk" which comes complete with a finger-snapping bassline, multiple horn solos, and a lounge lizard vocal by Cooper. Granted, the subject matter involves the joys of necrophilia, but the music is a million miles away from what rock fans who were clamoring to hear more Killer-style rockers might expect. "Alma Mater" is another plot twist of a song; a gentle doo wop-inspired ballad that flips the sentiments of the title track on their head as Cooper nostalgically laments his impending matriculation in tones that almost come across as earnest. These pale in the weirdness stakes next to "Gutter Cat vs. The Jets," a loping, light-hearted tale of cool cats that morphs into a high-kicking version of "Jet Song" from West Side Story. Alongside these oddball gems, the band sounds locked in on the rockers like the piano-led "My Stars" and the happily vicious "Public Enemy #9"as well as suitably theatrical on "Luny Tunes," a deceptively melodic and orchestrated song about being locked up in the psychiatric ward. All these songs, and the album itself, have a light and almost swinging underpinning, almost nothing rocks as hard as Killer, some of it isn't even rock at all. Half the joy derived from listening to School's Out is to marvel at how daringly the band took all the goodwill they had engendered to this point and blew up their just-barely-established template in fascinating, almost reckless ways. The end result is a bewildering, impressively contrary album that's a glorious kiss-off to expectations while also showing the band's range and ambition in glorious technicolor.- Allmusic