An excerpt from Alice Cooper, Golf Monster 2007
A chapter on The Hollywood Vampires titled
The Lair of the Vampires
The Lair of the Vampires (pages 136 - 137)
(following photos are not from the book)
The Rainbow was an ultracool nightclub, and we were notorious
patrons. At the time, we all were very functional. The membership included
only household entertainment names. John Belushi was a member. Jack
Nicholson would show up every once in a while. Anyone who was playing
Los Angeles became an Honorary Vampire. We even had a softball team.
Lennon, Nilsson, Alice, and Micky Dolenz
Alice's parents w/ Alice in his softball Hollywood Vampires jersey
I remember Bruce Springsteen was invited up one night. It was when
the press had billed him as the “New Dylan.”
“Sit down, Bruce,” I told him. “I’ve got to talk to you about something
important.‘ Bruce was wearing cowboy boots. Bernie Taupin, who was a
Vampire at the time, was sitting to the other side of him.
“Look, you‘re really talented,” I said. “But whatever you do, don’t let
them sell you as the next Bob Dylan. That’s suicide. You’re Bruce Springsteen,
not Bob Dylan.”
Then Bernie tapped him on the shoulder. “Bruce, I’ve got to tell you
something.” Bernie started talking to Bruce. While his attention was on
Bernie, I poured my drink into his cowboy boot.
After Bernie, I got his attention back. Bruce would turn to me, and
Bernie would pour his drink into Bruce’s other boot. By the end of the
night, the poor guy was sloshing around. The whole room was in hysterics.
Anne Murray w/ The Hollywood Vampires John Lennon, Harry Nilsson, Alice Cooper and Micky Dolenz
Bernie and I were the best of friends. Inseparable. Looking back, it was
some of the most fun times of my life. It was also right before thing started
caving in. A lot of those guys eventually died. Harry Nilsson. Keith Moon.
John Belushi. I guess I was one of the few survivors out of that bunch. You
can’t drink like that and not know that at some point it’s going to catch up
with you. VO Canadian Club and Coke. That’s all I drank as a Vampire.
Beer during the day, whiskey at night.
We had our very own waitress, a blond gum chewer named Schottzie.
Schottzie was great because she took care of us and never took any crap.
“Harry, you’ve had enough.”
“John, you’re out of line.”
“Alice, you haven’t had anything all night. What’s your problem?”
“I’m on penicillin.”
Schottzie was like our mother and the perfect waitress. We listened to
her when she’d lay down the law and grab our car keys. I would find a ride
out front, then I’d slip her a hundred dollars.
Ringo, Moon, Cooper
I look back at my drinking club days as another life long ago. They were
great times, but they were also the lost years. But it’s funny, the Vampires
were all extremely productive during that time. Harry Nilsson was cutting
his Nilsson Schmilsson records. Jack Nicholson was making great movies.
Bernie was writing hits with Elton John. Belushi was a Blues Brother and a
cast member on Saturday Night Live. We were all riding a huge wave of
celebrity. I could go anywhere in the world and people would recognize me.
We felt immortal. Yet in the back of our minds, we knew we couldn’t live
like that forever. It could end at any time, so we’d better party hard and live
each night like it was our last. And for some of us, it was.
