Juggling work and volunteer duties
has me sapped this week, but I’m determined to get this next review written, if
only to get the damned thing off my MP3 player.
Disc 428 is…KISS: Gene Simmons
Artist: Gene
Simmons
Year of Release: 1978
What’s up with the Cover? Each of these KISS solo albums features the head of
the featured band member, limned in some coloured light. Gene’s light is unsurprisingly red. Also he’s the only KISS cover of the four to
feature an ‘action’ pose – he’s got blood dripping from his mouth.
How I Came To Know It: I have known KISS since
the first record I ever bought (1976’s “Destroyer”) and these solo albums
held considerable fascination for me as a child. I wanted them all, but as an adult I’ve only
ever got two on CD. I reviewed Ace
Frehley’s entry way back at Disc 94.
Gene Simmons’ effort was encouraged by my friend Joel, who said that
while it wasn’t as good as the Frehley record, it was OK.
How It Stacks Up: I have ten regular KISS studio albums plus two of
the four solo albums. Of the two solo
albums, the Ace Frehley one is far superior.
Against the KISS records, Gene also comes up short, maybe better than
one or two of those only.
Rating: 2 stars.
Prepare to be shocked, reality TV
fans; there was a time when Gene Simmons was a legitimate rock star. Yes, before he made money creating drama out
of whether or not he would marry Shannon
Tweed, or if he did what colour they’d paint the foyer of their mansion, he had
a real job. He was the bass player and
head visionary for the monster rock band KISS.
A band so big that to this day, when you spell it you use all capitals.
So what happened to Gene along the
road of rock and roll glory? Who took
him out of this rock and roll hell we music lovers preferred him in? The answer is the same thing that keeps this
record from being anything but mediocre; his own ego.
But first, the good parts of this
solo effort, and there are some.
Firstly, backed up by such strong voices as Cheap Trick’s Rick Nielson, Cher,
Donna Summer and (most importantly) The Azusa Citrus College Choir, Simmons
voice is surprisingly competent.
OK, admittedly that was an unkind
way to start the positive part of the commentary. Gene was never the greatest singer in KISS –
he was tied for a distant third with Peter Criss. Given that, he actually accounts for himself
well on this solo album. He stays wisely
within his limited range and lets the guest vocalists flesh out the edges of
the tune.
Also, the record has an old-school
KISS sound on many of the songs which I appreciated at a time when the band as
a whole were turning in a new direction.
Not that I minded the disco-influenced sounds of “Dynasty” – I actually
liked Dynasty – but Simmons’ love for old style sixties rock and roll is evident on
his solo record in a very heartwarming way.
In fact, many of these songs would
have been better served in the early sixties pop format; two to two and a half
minute tracks that are heavy on a single melodic hook, and light on content
beyond that. Instead, they tend to have
one or two stilted verses, and then an overlong fade out of the chorus. It is like Simmons could think of a hook, but
couldn’t develop the song into anything more dynamic without a helping hand
from Paul or Ace. Even his bass solo on “Living In Sin” is boring, and he is a
bass player by trade.
Coming from a man who is famous
for never touching alcohol, the songs are strangely constructed like a bad
night out drinking; they ramp up too quickly, stumble around without going anywhere
for a while and eventually just fade away.
The one notable exception is “Always Near You/Nowhere to Hide” which
actually develops into something interesting by the end, although it takes
giving the song two full names to inspire Simmons to actually build in some musical
progression.
Subject-wise, the music is too
wrapped up in Simmons’ obsession with himself, or more accurately, his
obsession with his image. The album features
songs about groupies seeking him out for hotel sex (“Living in Sin”) but without the lascivious charm that Paul Stanley
brings to the material. In other places,
Simmons pontificates about how great a chameleon he is as an entertainer, (“Man of 1,000 Faces”, “Mr. Make Believe”).
When Ace Frehley sings about the
party lifestyle on his solo record, it sounds both hard core and tragic at the
same time. Simmons’ struggles with his
own awareness of himself as an entertainer don’t translate as well into art. They mostly come off as self-absorbed, rather
than insightful, which is what I think he was going for.
When I was a young boy KISS was my
favourite band. I was a member of the
KISS Army – and remember this was back in the day that you actually had to
write away for a package in the mail.
Gene Simmons was far and away my favourite member of the band, breathing
fire, spitting blood and sticking his ridiculously long tongue out at every
opportunity. I begged my Mom to make me
a Gene Simmons Halloween costume for three straight years (she only balked because
I refused to wear makeup. Looking back,
I can see how that prohibition would make the whole thing impossible to pull off).
As an adult, it is a bit disappointing
to see behind the makeup, because it wrecks this perfect image I had of Gene as
‘The Demon’. I really should admire him
more for being able to put the makeup on and off so easily without falling down
the horrible rabbit hole that Alice Cooper spent years clawing his way out
of. Simmons is a well-balanced guy, and if
“Family Jewels” is even remotely true, he’s raised a pretty nice family. I even kind of enjoy the occasional episode of
the show in a guilty pleasure kind of way.
Still, looking at him spend his time on a cell phone with lawyers trying
to corner the copyright on the “$” symbol is a little too far on the beaten
path for a rock and roll icon.
Listening to his 1978 solo albm
was a similar experience musically. It
wasn’t bad, but it smacks of a lot of calculated business decisions – bringing in
all kinds of guest musicians, and taking very few risks. If anything, I felt like I was getting less
of the real Gene Simmons instead of more.
The record ends with an unconscionably
bad rendition of “When You Wish upon a
Star.” It is so bad that every time
I hear it, it threatens to wreck the whole album for me. Fortunately, there is enough of Gene the Rock
Star earlier to hold this record up at two stars. I just wish there were a bit more Demon, and
a little less Wizard of Oz.
Best tracks: Burning Up with Fever, Always Near You/Nowhere to
Hide, Man of a Thousand Faces
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