By Paul Whitelaw - the Scotsman
Arts journalist
Deeply offensive on a number of levels, Johnny Depp warbling Bowie's “Heroes” is something I'll never forget no matter how hard I try. More desecration than tribute, it summed up everything that's wrong with Hollywood Vampires, the all-star Proper Rock band he fronts alongside actual hard rock legends Alice Cooper and Aerosmith guitarist Joe Perry.
You can't fault their taste in covers, but you could say the same of any half-decent pub band, most of whom aren't deluded enough to think anyone also wants to hear their godawful original material. Beyond the fact that three of its members are very famous, there is nothing remotely interesting about this self-indulgent boys’ club.
Rhythm guitarist Depp’s attempts to present himself as a louche rock 'n' roll rebel have always been utterly embarrassing. This just feels like a sad, pathetic vanity project for him, a desperate opportunity to live out his Keith Richards fantasies. Cooper and Perry do at least “deserve” to be up on that stage, even if the results are worthless.
An old pro, Cooper's desiccated charisma remains intact; rock's foremost pantomime dame repeatedly screeching “You're all wasted!” during the Who's Baba O' Riley was this perfunctory performance's only vague thrill.
Depp and Perry, neither of whom can sing, made Cooper – who's always made the most of his limited yet characterful rasp – sound like Pavarotti. A litany of (mostly white) dead musicians – many of them friends of Cooper's - flashed across the video screens, a constant reminder that you could have been listening to those guys instead. So dismal, so depressing. Rock on.
