It seems like only yesterday that Alice Cooper were the most hated band in L.A.—a gang of Yardbirds enthusiasts from Phoenix with no money, bad hair, worse clothes, and a dangerous belief that they were destined for the big time. They weren’t cool. They had one local radio hit and more bad band names than decent songs. But they had vision. They had nerve. And they had a station wagon. So they pointed that beat-up car toward the Sunset Strip with $200 and a trunkful of satin, fishnets, and righteous delusion.

Outsiders in Phoenix, and still outsiders in L.A., the Alice Cooper band didn’t fit in anywhere—which is exactly why they eventually ruled everywhere. In 1968, singer Vince Furnier transformed into Alice Cooper, a gothic cartoon villain with a penchant for boas and beheadings. Alongside bassist Dennis Dunaway, drummer Neal Smith, and guitarists Glen Buxton and Michael Bruce, they looked like a cross between a horror movie, a drag revue, and a garage band.