I don’t know how I feel about this.
There’s really only one album by Kiss
that I think I would like to have on vinyl,
and it’s not one in the bunch of four
that I have here. Somewhere along the line
I stumbled or my wife stumbled upon
these used editions of the first three Kiss
albums and the fifth Kiss album at an
estate sale and decided to scoop them up.
Why not? It’s true that they held a place
in my childhood musical heart–after Elton
they were maybe the first BAND that
really captured my imagination and for
a few years I fancied that I loved them.
I bought every single album all the way
up through 1979. But unlike Elton,
my interest in Kiss has not aged well.
I really don’t think they were that great
of a band, musically speaking. Their tunes
are bone-headed and simple, the lyrics
are dumb, and neither of the original four
were all that accomplished on their
instruments, with maybe the exception
of Ace Frehley. Initially, I think their
genius was all about the costumery and
the make-up; they had out-done Alice
Cooper, created these characters,
created a mythology and a mystique.
And then from that moment onward
even into the 21st century the band was
just a well-oiled business machine.
I actually started to listen to Alice
at about the same time my interest in
Kiss had started to wane, and still find
Cooper’s music to be compelling and rich.
The debut album is anemic and dull.
I think the first time I heard these tunes
was on the first Kiss Alive album and
even though that record sounded like
poo, there was an energy there that’s
missing from these first studio recordings.
The best thing about this debut album
is the cover photo. Even the songs here
that went on to be early classics are
just dumb, and earnestly so. I get the
sense that these guys were doing their
thing without irony and without humor.
They wanted to be taken seriously, even
in their face paint. I have to say, though,
that I enjoyed the tape speed manipulation
at the end of “Black Diamond.”
Hotter Than Hell is a sonic step up but
I’m not convinced the songs are all
that better. I let it play in the listening
room while I’m in the kitchen writing
a friend a letter, and the music just kind
of washes on through until the end
of side two. Two things can be said
about Kiss. One is that they get a little
better with every record. Of the original
three studio albums, Dressed to Kill is
the best. Two is that finally, for the cover
of their third album, they display a
sense of humor about their own
ridiculousness. Face painted dudes in
formalwear suits that barely fit, least
well for Gene Simmons. That’s
funny. And this record contains their
first bonafide hit single. Come on, you
can sing along: “I wanna rock and roll
all night, and party every day.” And it
also includes maybe their most
sophisticated rock tune to date, the
Zeppelinesque “She.” The riffs are
pretty great on this one, and I must
confess that I sang along a little bit.
My favorite Kiss album of all time, as
I’ve said, is missing from my collection.
Their fourth album, Destroyer, produced by
Bob Ezrin (not surprisingly a guy who
worked with Alice Cooper), made them
sound like giants and the songs were no
longer lyrically totally stupid. This is a
Kiss album worth having, but I don’t have it,
not on vinyl anyway. Without even looking,
I can site the four most iconic songs from
that record: “Detroit Rock City,” “King of
the Nighttime World,” “God of Thunder,”
and the first ballad and biggest hit from
the band, the first song sung by Peter Criss,
the drummer: “Beth.”
My last Kiss album currently in the collection
is their fifth, Rock and Roll All Over, a record with
a fantastic circular saw cover cartoon design.
This was a record that, for the first time,
contained more than one hit single:
“Calling Dr. Love” was the first, lyrically
kind of gross, and again,
Peter Criss for the win with the mostly
not-at-all gross, “Hard Luck Woman.”
Peter Criss was kind of a secret weapon–
not a great drummer, and not a great singer,
but that rasp was undeniably
sexy, and his tunes (did he write them or just
sing them?), were the best pop songs the band
would ever record.
Mostly, I think that, musically, Kiss may be one
of the most overrated bands in rock history.
But did I have some fun listening to these records?
I confess that I did. Am I going to jettison these
albums from the collection? I think not.
Why not? They amuse me. I am amused by them.
And I cannot deny the power they had over me
as an awkward middle-school-aged kid discovering
the first American rock and roll band of my
generation with funny costumes and a full
face of stage make-up.
Notes on the vinyl editions: Kiss, Hotter Than Hell, Dressed to Kill, Rock and Roll Over, Casablanca Records, 1974, 1974, 1975, and 1976 respectively, used editions, black vinyl, jacket spines completely demolished and worn, but the records themselves are in surprisingly good shape, excellent shape, actually.
In case you don’t already know: I’m listening to almost everything in my vinyl collection, A to Z, and writing at least one, sometimes two or three long skinny poem-like-things in response for each artist, and on a few occasions, writing a long skinny poem-like-thing in response to more than one artist. As a poet and a student of poetry, I understand that these things look like poems, but they don’t really sound much like poetry, hence, I call them “poem-like-things.” I’ll admit that they’re just long, skinny essays that veer every now and then into the poetic or lyric.
michael jarmer 