KISS My GRITZ

Happy birthday to me...Happy birthday to me. Yes, I made it another year, and I am as happy as a clam. Because it is my birthday today, I am going to do something different. I am going to write about a band that is as far removed from Southern Rock as Willie Nelson is from the Anti-Marijuana League.

It’s no secret that during the early 1970’s, my love for Southern Rock shared space in my psyche with my love or theatrical rock and roll. Bands like Alice Cooper, David Bowie, and perhaps more than any of those, KISS.

I’ve given this a lot of thought over the years, and while all of these bands did turn out some pretty rocking music, I was always more about the stage shows and the image associated with them. For sheer musical enjoyment I would play Fillmore East or Layla and Other Love Songs. When I wanted to escape reality, which was pretty darn often, I would go to see Alice Cooper or KISS, or read about them in the rock magazines. Still, I owned every album pressed by all three of these bands. Go figure.

Of all of the trio, it was KISS that I became addicted to, and it is an addiction that remains to this day. At least on some bizarre level. I still watch old videos of their shows and have followed the solo careers of all four original members, the amazing reunion tour in the mid-1990’s, and watched as Gene Simmons proved to the world that he can make a buck off of anything and everything, including toilet paper, condoms and caskets. No matter what you think of Simmons, it is undeniable that the man knows how to make money - millions. Last week I watched Simmons get roasted by friends and comedians. It was a riot.

I saw KISS in concert a total of 18 times during my life. The one show that stands out most was 1976, when they came to Greenville Memorial Auditorium. Bill Hudson and I went. I was a senior in high school, and a die hard fan.

The stage was amazing. Peter Criss, the drummer, had huge cats on either side of his drum kit with glowing red eyes, and the stage was set like a cross between some off Broadway show and the world’s biggest rock and roll band. Well, let’s face it, at that time it was a little of both.

It was one year earlier when Larry and I had gone to see KISS with openers Styx and Mott the Hoople in Asheville, NC. During the opening band’s set, I made my way around to the side of the stage, where I found a group of fans hanging out in front of a make shift fence. One of the guys said that the band was behind the door in front of us, putting on makeup. About this time, a blonde girl in her twenties spoke to me, and I asked if the guys were coming out to say hello to us. She disappeared, and just a few minutes later, emerged from behind the door with the tallest, thinnest dude I had ever seen. It was obvious he was a member of KISS, but since none of us had seen them without their kabuki like grease paint, we didn’t know for sure. That is until he stuck out his infamous tongue, and nearly incited a riot then and there. Long story short, we met all four members briefly before they ducked back in to the dressing room to get into costume and makeup. All I remember is that they were all very kind, signing a few autographs and thanking us for coming to the show, and that Gene Simmons commented on my T-shirt. I was wearing a Marshall Tucker Band shirt I had purchased in Myrtle Beach, and Gene pointed to it and said, “Good band.”

Years later after I became a journalist I had the opportunity of meeting and interviewing both Gene Simmons and Peter Criss. I was able to thank both of them for all the years of fun I had enjoyed because of their little ol’ rock and roll band. 

Nowadays, as I watch the family man that Simmons has become on his reality TV show, Gene Simmons Family Jewels, it’s kind of hard to believe they have been doing what they do for over 35 years. Time flies when you’re blowing fire and spitting fake blood.

Keep it Real. Keep it Southern.
Buffalo

related tags

Read More...

Comments

Please login or you can to leave a comment.

If you aren't registered, Register Now to start leaving comments.