I was trying to figure out what to write about, regarding KISS.

There are so many albums, and songs, and shows, and everything else that the possibilities were/are simply endless. Would it be something about their records? Would I delve into my personal fetish for KISS cards when I was about 12?

I decided pretty quick, I will likely write about them more than once simply to make it easier. KISS stories squirt out from everywhere, and no reason not to entertain them often.

I began playing different records and remembering what KISS has specifically meant to me over the years, and talking to friends and family about it some, too. It was fun to share stories, and hearken back with different folks – and then I realized what I wanted to write about for this one.

While there are many individual songs and LPs that were influential to us in a number of ways, the one thing KISS did more than any other band or musician, was to polarize the audience. You either loved them, or you hated them – there really was no middle ground as far as KISS was concerned. Some, like my parents, simply tolerated them from necessity – they were not really equipped to hate things, and I would play the records non-stop – but most people quickly went to one extreme or the other. To have no opinion on KISS in the mid to late 70s was not really an option, it seemed…especially for kids.

Take It – You Know You Want It

I was force-feeding anyone within earshot all of the glories and the majesty of KISS, always. I thought those costumes were like armor, and they were superheroes to me long before the comic book made it clear to any of those foolish non-believers.

There was a distinct line for sure, driven right between the sexes – I didn’t know ANY girls that liked KISS, or understood them at all. They were not attracted to them in the least bit. The boys were a different story, but we were all on one side or the other: no one was waffling on what they thought about KISS. Once you heard them and saw them, you knew.

I don’t remember it before 1977, but after that, how you perched on the KISS fence was certainly more of a statement made – and everyone was quite happy to make statements either for or against. We peeled off.

We voted for them, and a bunch of us boys said:”YES!” Typically, it cost us about .27 cents each time, in the form of KISS cards, posters, belt buckles, lunch boxes, Pez, and anything else they could attach their logo to. Gene was shameless in putting his band’s image in our mitts (for a small cost), and we gobbled it up like ravenous little vultures. Every lawn mowed became Gene’s income, and it suited us all just fine.

I thought everyone was either a KISS fan or an idiot. I didn’t know many of us were both.

The Final Years

I remember the years of 1979-1982 being particularly hard ones to push out my personal KISS vibe effectively. The music, arguably for sure, was a muddled bunch of shit at this stage…Ace and Peter were melting down, and Gene and Paul drove the bus in an awkwardly forward direction, despite limbs and wheels and doors falling off everywhere.

The records were flailing for an identity, and as I was doing the same while entering junior high school, my friends who liked KISS were dropping left and right.

Yet to me, the records are all just ripe with pure gems normally overlooked –  Torpedo Girl, for example, from Unmasked, is a fucking great song. It was the one that tipped me off that Peter Criss wasn’t hitting for them anymore – there is NO WAY he could’ve played that opening riff.I learned later he wasn’t even on much of Dynasty…poor Peter.

I remember buying Music From the Elder in 1981, and even the cashier at the time looked at me like – KISS…??? In 1981??? Really?? And while I was normally proud of my almost bottomless devotion, this record geek made me feel stupid…as did loving that record once I got it home. I played the shit out of it while all the critics and the other fans all said how much it sucked.

And so maybe, that is the root conundrum of the KISS fan…defending your personal honor, while keeping the faith and carrying the flag for a bunch of greasepainted Jews from NYC who dress like comic book clowns and bash power chords to sing about their dicks.

But using KISS fandom as a measure of friendship, worked well for me when I moved cross-country as a high school senior. I went from the way north to the far south, but KISS fandom, though much quieter in my innards in 1984, went with me.

I met more fans in my new home, and we bonded over the classic albums – having sleepovers, and playing homemade mix tapes of them. We drew their pictures, practiced their logos and autographs, and bonded in the surreal adventure of liking these weirdos. Non-KISS fans outnumbered us now everywhere, but we were loyal and lovestruck.

So say what you want about being a KISS fan – kinda like me and the guys did, linked here below. To me, it was always a statement to be a KISS fan: it was a fuck you to the rest of the world, because we knew what was best. We wanted the best, and we got the best…the rest we simply let melt away.