When Alice Cooper Met Colonel Sanders

When Alice Cooper Met Colonel Sanders


In what might be one of the most unexpected yet iconic meetings of minds, we have these legendary photos of two titans from wildly different worlds: Colonel Sanders and Alice Cooper. If ever there were a โ€œWhat are the odds?โ€ moment in pop culture history, this might be it. The master of Southern-fried chicken and the godfather of shock rock shaking hands over a table of fine china and (presumably) KFCโ€™s finest. But thereโ€™s more to this strange meeting than just an amusing photo-op.

The year was 1973, and Alice Cooper was riding high on the success of his albums Billion Dollar Babies and Schoolโ€™s Out. He was infamous for bringing horror-themed theatrics into rock โ€˜nโ€™ roll, from guillotines to snakes, blood to electric chairs. Parents were horrified, teens were ecstatic. Cooper was, in short, a walking controversy wrapped in leather, smeared eyeliner, and long, unkempt hair.

On the other side of the cultural spectrum stood Colonel Harland Sanders, the wholesome face of Kentucky Fried Chicken, with his trademark white suit, black string tie, and old Southern charm. As wholesome as Americana getsโ€”at least at first glance. By the early โ€˜70s, the Colonel was a household name, known for his โ€œfinger-lickinโ€™ goodโ€ chicken, a global icon who represented comfort food at its greasiest. So, how did these two larger-than-life figures cross paths?

The magic moment happened backstage at one of Alice Cooperโ€™s shows, of all places. Itโ€™s not clear who orchestrated this surreal collision, but Cooper himself has recalled that the Colonel was a fan of the show. Yes, Colonel Sanders, the man who spent decades perfecting his โ€œsecret recipeโ€ of 11 herbs and spices, apparently had a taste for theatrical rock. The Colonel, who by this time was in his 80s, arrived decked out in his usual crisp white suit, likely looking as out of place as anyone could in the raucous backstage environment of a Cooper concert. Yet, the photos suggest there was no awkwardnessโ€”just mutual respect and maybe a shared appreciation for their own brands of spectacle.

The images, immortalized in grainy black and white, are a study in contrasts. Cooper, beer in hand, clad in his signature denim and disheveled hair, strikes a pose next to the Colonel, who seems slightly bemused but ever the gracious Southern gentleman. Thereโ€™s something almost fatherly about Sandersโ€™ demeanor in the shots, perhaps seeing a kindred spirit in Cooperโ€™s entrepreneurial flair or simply enjoying the absurdity of the moment.

Itโ€™s the kind of image that feels like a fever dream of โ€˜70s pop cultureโ€”where a man known for dunking himself in fake blood and another famous for dunking chicken in a deep fryer could share a laugh and a handshake. In a weird way, they both represent different slices of American excess: Cooperโ€™s wild, anarchic energy on stage, and the Colonelโ€™s relentless pursuit of culinary domination. Both knew how to work an audience, whether with a stage guillotine or a bucket of chicken, and both are still legendary long after their respective heydays.

As Cooper himself once said, the Colonel โ€œwas a cool guy.โ€ Perhaps thatโ€™s all the explanation we need. The Colonel and the shock rockerโ€”two icons, two sides of the same wildly entertaining American coin.

At the end of the day, itโ€™s a meeting that reminds us: life can be pretty bizarre, and sometimes, thatโ€™s just finger-lickinโ€™ good.

2024 PMA Magazine. All rights reserved.

PMA Poll: How much did you spend on your last pair of speakers?
Search for a Topic

and enjoy exclusive content and early offers

SIGN UP TO OUR NEWSLETTER

Email field is required to subscribe.