Alice Cooper And Judas Priest (Dad) Rock The Woodlands

Alice Cooper, Judas Priest, Corrosion of Conformity
Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion
October 26, 2025

Did you know last night’s Alice Cooper/Judas Priest show at The Woodlands was the final date of a tour stretching back into 2024? Me neither. The fact was presented (if at all) without much fanfare. The openers mentioned it, and Priest’s Rob Halford read a data sheet summarizing the excesses of the experience (1,000 pizzas!). But if anyone was pointing out the obvious significance of a couple of septuagenarian rock acts wrapping up another spin around the globe, I must have missed it.

Cooper and Priest have shared a bill before (1991’s Operation Rock & Roll), and even if their nations of origin and respective flavors of metal don’t completely mesh, they’re not entirely different beasts. Cooper is the founding father of shock rock, while Priest were an integral part of the original New Wave of British Heavy Metal. Both can be lumped into the “hard rock” category and heard with regularity on radio stations or playlists of that variety. So even if your mind doesn’t immediately put them together, the co-headlining thing doesn’t come out of nowhere.

Corrosion of Conformity, on the other hand, were last night’s example of “which of these things is not like the other?” Starting out as North Carolina punkers, CoC moved into the thrash lane before settling more comfortably into a sludgier metal sound in the late ’90s/early ’00s. Even so, they were never as radio friendly as Alice or Priest.

They’re also relative youngsters compared to Cooper (77) and original Priesters Rob Halford (74), guitarist Glenn Tipton (77) and bassist Ian Hill (74).

It was a fine autumn night at the Pavilion, which doubtless made it more comfortable for both our leather-clad musicians and the “none more black” outfitted audience. Roughly a third of the venue was filled when Corrosion of Conformity lead singer Pepper Keenan’s bellowed, “Tejas!” So began a set of sludgy, heavy shit the assembled masses were only slightly prepared for. 

CoC came on stage to an abbreviated version of “Bottom Feeder” before launching into a short set highlighted by “King of the Rotten,” “Seven Days,” and “Clean My Wounds.” Keenan briefly cut in to say, “Judas Priest and Alice Cooper … give me a break. Doesn’t get any better than that.”

The band, including drummer Stanton Moore, epically bearded bassist Bobby Landgraf, and lead guitarist Woody Weatherman (also the sole remaining founding member), have morphed into something reminiscent of early Sabbath/late Black Pyramid. They were having a blast and as they left, Keenan said he hoped they made some new friends. I think it’s safe to say they did. 

There’s not a lot left to say about Judas Priest, icons of the NWOBHM (yes, it has it’s own acronym). The core unit of Halford, Tipton, and Hill were joined by guitarist Richie Faulkner (replacing K.K. Downing) and drummer Scott Travis (replacing…well, the less said about him the better). Both Faulkner and Travis have been with the band for years, so the show is a comfortable one, relying heavily on decades-old hits.

Halford stalked the Pavilion stage, ducking out between every other song to don yet another in a series of more elaborate jackets — and props to the guys for continuing to rock that leather look well into their Grandpa Era — before finally bringing out the trusty motorcycle for show closers “Hell Bent For Leather” and “Living After Midnight.”

The band was backstopped by scenes depicting — among other things — industrial filth (“You’ve Got Another Thing Comin'” ), snake handlers (“Touch of Evil”), and a surprisingly Christmas-y Invincible Shield sigil (“Gates of Hell”). The only constant being a blasted cityscape that looked like it was ripped from Kiss’ Destroyer album. 

Having never seen Priest live (shun the heretic), it was great to hear the classics, along with some surprisingly strong new cuts, including “Giants in the Sky,” which received some of the biggest roars of the night, thanks to memorial reel featuring — among others — Ace Frehley, Lemmy, and Ozzy. Last night may have been the last night of the tour; and you’d be forgiven for thinking Rob and the boys might hang it up, but as they assembled for their farewell bow; the screen behind them promised “The Priest Will Be Back.”

Alice Cooper, on the other hand, never left. After a 30-minute intermission, the former Vincent Furnier took the stage. Cooper’s shtick has been pretty much unchanged since the ‘70s. And unlike Judas Priest, he doesn’t even bother to sprinkle new songs into his act. The latest album to make an appearance last night was 2005’s Dirty Diamonds.

But most attendees at a so-called “classic rock” show aren’t there for surprises. And in that sense, at least, Cooper delivered. And if Halford is still (almost) fully in command of his vocal capabilities, Cooper tends more toward the Vince Neil approach. But then, his voice was never the attraction. “Fortunately,” most of the old familiar props made an appearance, like the big skull belt buckle, the 10-foot “modern Prometheus” during the ode to Cooper’s boner, “Feed My Frankenstein.” He also ran a paparazzo through with a mic stand during “Hey Stoopid.” This all in addition to the top hat, occasional cloak, and creepy backdrops.

Cooper’s band does a lot of the heavy lifting, and he frequently threw it to journeyman bassist Chuck Garric (who has a kind of taller Danzig thing going), guitarist Ryan Roxie, and guitarist Nita Strauss who gets her own dedicated solo and some of the night’s biggest cheers. It’s not difficult to see why.

It’s been a running gag for many years now about aging rockers still singing about teenagers (looking at you, Depeche Mode). At least Cooper gets the joke, bringing out a crutch (albeit a “spooky” one) for “I’m Eighteen” (fun fact: Cooper was 22 when he wrote that). He also produced some maracas for “Muscle of Love.” Spooky maracas.

Perhaps the least surprising of the night’s developments was the fan exodus during the second half of Cooper’s set, though I don’t think he can really be blamed for that. Putting relatively obscure cuts like “Brutal Planet,” “Ballad of Dwight Fry,” and “Cold Ethyl” in the back half of your set isn’t going to keep hold of Houston’s notoriously mercurial audiences.

As I’ve hinted, it’s hard not to ascribe some sense of finality to last night’s proceedings, but consider: both Priest and Alice are veteran, incessant touring machines. The former has slowed down somewhat, and Cooper never embarked on a “farewell tour,” like JP did in 2012. If I had to put money on it, I’d say we’ll be seeing both Judas Priest and Alice Cooper again.

If *we’re* still alive, that is.

Personal Bias: I remember picking my kids up at day care while “Painkiller” was playing on my car stereo. One asked who I was listening to. I said, “Judas Priest.” They said, “She sounds mean.”

The Crowd: Who let all these grandpas out of the assisted living center?

Overheard In The Crowd: “I’m allergic to alcohol. Whenever I drink, I end up in handcuffs.”

JUDAS PRIEST SET LIST
All Guns Blazing
Hell Patrol
You’ve Got Another Thing Comin’
Freewheel Burning
Breaking the Law
A Touch of Evil
Night Crawler
Solar Angels
Gates of Hell
Electric Eye
Giants in the Sky
Painkiller
Hell Bent for Leather
Living After Midnight

ALICE COOPER SET LIST
Who Do You Think We Are
No More Mr. Nice Guy
House of Fire
I’m Eighteen
Muscle of Love
Feed My Frankenstein
Dirty Diamonds
Caught in a Dream
Hey Stoopid
Dangerous Tonight
Poison
Brutal Planet
Ballad of Dwight Fry
Cold Ethyl
Only Women Bleed
Second Coming
Going Home
School’s Out

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