Reprinted from The West Australian Newspaper November 21, 1996

Kiss and Make-up

The monster, the cat, the spaceman and that pouty guy with the star on his eye are back. Michael Dwyer talks to the blood-spitting Gene Simmons about "the greatest show on earth" - the original members of Kiss with make-up.

Gene Simmons talks slowly, quietly and without exclamation. "This is the greatest show on earth as far as I'm concerned," says the blood- spitting, evil-looking guy out of Kiss. "Call me cocky, I don't care. I'm too proud of this to call it anything else."

"You'll see what I mean. Before we play the first chord, you'll look at the stage and go, 'Wow, that's big'. This thing will kick your ass. The sound system has enough power to drop five pounds off any fat girl within a thousand yards of the stage.

"And this thing comes alive. The drum riser levitates 30 feet in the air, Peter (Criss) will be wearing a parachute just in case. Ace (Frehley)'s guitars are gonna shoot rockets that literally blow pieces of the lighting truss to bits.

"If all this sounds like we put our money where our mouth is," the fire-breathing bass player concludes softly, "you bet your ass. We put seven million (U.S.) bucks of our money into this show to make sure that when people walk out, the only word they will be able to say is Wow. And forwards and backwards, it will mean the same thing."

Wow. The monster, the cat, the spaceman and that pouty guy with the star on his eye are back. In February, Kiss add Australia to a three-year, 28-country, 210-city world tour. It's alleged to involve a total of 20 kilos of make-up, more than a million dollars worth of pyrotechnics and nearly 70 kilos of fake blood.

Peter Criss, Ace Frehley, Gene Simmons and fellow mainstay Paul Stanley will reunite for the first time in 17 years - the first time on Australian soil - all wearing the greasepaint which Simmons on Kiss' 1995 Australian tour, swore he would never wear again. So what's the story?

"When they explained the facts of life to me when I was a kid, I remember swearing 'I'll never do that as long as I live,' he replies. "But you live and you learn. I still stand by the spirit and emotion of what I said. Based on the lay of the land in '95, I wouldn't have done it. We were offered to headline Woodstock (II) for an enormous amount of money. Millions of dollars for one show with make-up on, with Ace and Peter.

"We said no because, from our experiences, Ace and Peter were dysfunctional. They were not straight and it's not just an ethical problem we have with that, it's the practicality that a football team is not going to work if the guy you toss the ball to is gonna drop it.

"Kiss is no different than a football team. If everyone is not of sound mind and body you shouldn't get on the field. In '95, the last thing on our minds was to get together with Ace and Peter. Forget it. You couldn't pay me enough money. I already have too much."

The turning point came in August last year when Simmons and Stanley invited their estranged colleagues to perform an MTV Unplugged special with them in New York. The pair were surprised to find Criss and Frehley healthy and happy, obviously over the problems which led to their respective dismissals in 1979 and 1982 ("drugs and alcohol. In combination, lots of it and all the time").

I've never been high or drunk in my life, except in a dentist's chair," Simmons says. "That's just a personal choice I have. No smoking, no drinking, no nothing. You got to be the best or get out. We care too much about what we do - and imagine what our fans expect of us! They don't just expect us to be as good as we were in the '70's, they expect us to be as good as the legend."

So far, the legend appears in good hands. Kiss are enjoying their fourth month on the road: five to six shows a week, 1.25 million happy customers down. Given the sold-out US stadium tour, the contrast with that other much-hyped reunion of 1996 is difficult to ignore.

"I know Johnny (Lydon) and I find him a great performer," Simmons says, "and there's nothing wrong with The Sex Pistols, I've always been a big fan. But eventually you've got to get on stage and either deliver or not, and people either come or they don't. In the Pistols' case, they're not coming. In Kiss' case, they are."

What they're seeing is an update on the 1977 Love Gun era costumes and staging, a two-hour show with songs selected from the 1973-1979 glory days of the original Kiss. "But, clearly, this is Kiss on steroids," Simmons is keen to add. "There are hydraulics that exist today that did not exist then, wireless microphones, all kinds of stuff that is way beyond what anyone expected."

Yes, you can expect Gene Simmons to spit blood, breathe fire, and fly across the stage at three metres-per-second wearing 13kg worth of dragon boots. Paul Stanley will, very likely, smash his Ibanez guitar to pieces, Ace Frehley's Les Paul will flash, sparkle and belch skyrockets and the whole thing will undoubtedly end with more gunpowder than the Perth Skyshow. God only knows what the surprises will entail.

"What does it mean?" Simmons muses softly. "That hits me once in a while. Here we are, running all over the stage, wearing make-up, drooling blood, flying around, exploding things and yet when you come away, there's no real intent other than an aural and visual assault.

"You certainly don't want a member of the intelligentsia tapping you on the shoulder and asking questions. It's not gonna be a long conversation. On the other hand, maybe the word Wow is as profound as you need to be: succinct and to the point. Kiss have a lot more in common with fireworks shows and circuses than Nietzsche and Kierkegaard."

Words come easy to Gene Simmons, and memorable parting ones are no exception. "I tell you what. It doesn't matter if you get Godzilla or not. It will go onto Tokyo and stomp it to death. This show is too big, we have too much firepower for anybody to argue with us. It doesn't matter if you say, ' Oh, I don't like Godzilla, I don't like the way he breathes fire...' Too bad. He's gonna stomp Tokyo."

* Kiss stomp the Burswood Dome on February 9.

Reprinted from The West Australian newspaper January 31, 1997

Kings of Shock Rock Reign On

SYDNEY
By Jane Reid

Make-up can hide a multitude of sins but it has its work cut out with KISS.

Craggy faces and grey chest hair show through the paint and leather these days and age is a touchy subject.

"What is it with this age thing," Paul Stanley snarled when asked about the passing years. I mean this in the nicest way but this is all bull. Maybe you should try some make-up."

The original members of KISS are back on stage together for the first time in 17 years and will perform throughout Australia in February.

They confess it took a personal trainer and a lot of work in the gym to get them into shape for their reunion tour of 26 countries.

"We didn't want to come back looking like four old men," said Ace Frehley, who had clearly been attacked by the years.

But while the band members have aged, they certainly haven't matured.

They still take pride in making revolting comments and repeatedly brag about their sexual escapades.

Even comedian Elle McFeast managed to get a bit of the famous Gene Simmons tongue at the Sydney press conference yesterday.

"We like to party, we like to enjoy ourselves and we like to get laid," Stanley said. Does anybody have a problem with that?"

The band maintains that the reunion tour was not motivated by money but Stanley talks obsessively about being rich.

"Everybody likes to be paid for the work they do," he said. Our parents are very pleased with what we're doing - we're thinking of buying them a country."

Frehley said he would keep going for as long as it was fun.

"I'm having the time of my life right now," he said. "They'll have to drag me kicking and screaming off the stage."

Image courtesy of The KISS Asylum (www.kissasylum.com)

Reprinted from The West Australian Newspaper February 11, 1997

Kiss of Life for Fans
By Michael Dwyer

The make-up feels cool at first then greasy, sweaty and itchy. It cracks on your eyelids, wrinkles in your dimples and makes you sweat behind the ears.

It takes about an hour to apply and earns derisive snickers from Burswood (the hotel/casino/concert venue where the band played: Rhonda) car park attendants.

I don't care.

They will never know or understand the thrill of being, for one glorious night, Ace Frehley.

As the house lights at the Burswood went down, and a frightening shreik of anticipation went up, I was far from alone in my grease-painted homage to the world's most ludicrous rock 'n' roll band.

Kiss are strictly a participation sport, their fans' unparalleled fanaticism is rare in pop lore, reflecting their heroes' own dogged pursuit of absurd excess a hundred fold.

Just shy of 15,000, Perth had the biggest single audience of Kiss' reunion tour of Australia.

But for two hours of blood-spitting, fire-breathing, rocket-belching, levitating fireworks and fancy footwork on 18cm heels, we were mere extras in the greatest show on earth.

OK, Michael Jackson's staging was bigger, but platinum-throated sex god, Paul Stanley has more rock 'n' roll in his left eyebrow than the clown prince of pop can muster on a good night.

As the star-child and his leather and tinfoil clad cohorts took to the stage to the joyous riffing of early live favourite Deuce, Kiss kickstarted a rollercoaster of precision choreographed, hard-rocking thrills which blew any all-dancing mime-fest into a cocked hat.

Surprises? Not too many.

Any fan worth his Kiss Army membership knows that Firehouse is Gene Simmons' cue to spit fire from a flaming sword; that nimble-fingered Frehley's interminable solo guitar spot culminates in fragments of the lighting truss being blown to bits by rockets lauched from his own guitars.

We knew that God of Thunder would entail the bat in bondage (Simmons) regurgitating fake blood then 'flying' to the ceiling in time to pick up his vocal cue.

We were prepared for Stanley's invigorating pep talk; for Peter Criss' long-winded drum solo and, later, his solo spotlights for the band's big crossover ballad of 1975, Beth.

Reunited on the strength of a 20-year legacy, classic era favourites were in generous supply.

Simmons' sleazy grinder Calling Dr Love was an early highlight; youth anthem Shout It Out Loud had the pyrotechnics singeing the ceiling and Stanley stretched the tacky sexual connotations of Love Gun to absurd lengths in an hilarious introductory spiel.

Oddball disco hit I Was Made for Loving You was dealt out purely for we Australians, something of an embarrassment elsewhere, and Stanley treated us to a solo singalong with Shandi and similar crowd-pleasing motivation.

Much publicised sobriety issue obviously well in hand, lead guitarist Frehley took many of the evening's star turns.

He is a distinctive, if ham-fisted, lead guitarist, whose solo hit New York Groove made a surprising addition.

Cold Gin was perhaps the overall highlight of a show with dull moments in scant supply.

Reaching back to their debut of the early 1970's, a literally explosive rendition of Black Diamond closed the main set with the three front-men riding long-armed cherry pickers over the crowd's outstretched hands while Criss rose a good 15m above the stage on a hydraulic drum platform.

Kiss' three-year, 26-country, 210-city world tour is purported to involve a total of 20kg of the make-up which was flaking off my face as they returned for a breathtaking encore.

It began with Detroit Rock City and culminated, naturally, in Kiss' signature tune Rock and Roll All Nite.

Tour statistics are also available in semi-trailers (11); buses (6); production crew (60); total electricity generated (1.8 million volts); guitar strings (41,500); guitar picks (151,000); computer cable for lighting, sound, pyrotechnic and video components (76,000m) and blood (70kg).

Before the run is over, Stanley will, we are faithfully promised, have smashed 350 guitars to pieces, some poor lackey will have changed 1128 tiny light bulbs in Frehley's translucent Les Paul guitar - and have hell to pay, presumably, if he misses one.

But beyond the special effects and gimmicks it was heartening to note that the enduring magic of Kiss lies in the band's stunning prowess as rock and roll musicians.

Ragged but tight, always hard-hitting and accurate, they did justice to 20-odd deceptively brilliant nuggets of clean, unpretentious pop without once tripping over their capes.

"Did you get what you paid for tonight?" Stanley politely inquired as the inevitable fire and thunder finale rolled around.

A deafening affirmative cheer shook the walls and my Ace Frehley face paint made a light powder in my lap.

The car park attendant will never know what he missed.