KISS Reviews
Written by: Brian "Rock Devil" Coles,
Editor Electric Basement.com

KISS - LOVE GUN

If there ever was a collection of songs that captured KISS as they will be remember by most, it was that
unintentionally kichey slab of grossly embarrassing song titles ("Christine Sixteen", "Hooligan"), a
misguided cover of "Then She Kissed Me" (and pulled out a penis from behind her dress!.....heh heh!), some
killer riffs ("I Stole Your Love", "Shock Me", "Plaster Caster"), turgid drumming and let us not forget...the original vinyl release came with a toy gun....yeoooww! Yep, all your money, marketing and rock 'n' roll sensibility could possibly ask for for 4 bucks! Yep, inflation is a bitch.

The thing about LOVE GUN that strikes such a chord (power chord?) is that it really is a wonderful
experience as long as one can put themselves in the mind set of the star struck 14 year-old and the super
hero rock star 70s. KISS was bigger than life and it was cool. They were the STAR WARS of rock! And even
as prefabricated as their sound had become (remember how much more visceral and natural the debut
sounded?), there was still a forced rawness in there that is so greasy and disconcerting, it actually makes the experience far more entertaining now than one might imagine. I mean, it does kick off mightily with the not-so-family friendly "I Stole Your Love" and later sliding into a "Plaster Caster." As much as the band was marketing to everyone at that point, it was rather perpendicular for GENE SIMMONS to passionately sing about his member getting imortalized in dick cement. "Hey kids, let's go see KISS at the arena next month! Maybe that firebreathing, demon bat thing will sing about his meat missile while we clap along obliviously, watching that ACE guy struggle with reality as the drummer contemplates his solo album, right before our eyes!" Sure, suburban righteousness may be a cancer, but in the end, rock 'n' roll would be nothing without suburbia. They bought all the damn records, even if the lower echelon "got it" more.

Indeed, KISS was an incredible creation. Absurd yet perfectly contrived. It wouldn't work on paper, but it
sure worked on coke and general 70s cluelessness. Don't get me wrong, get me a sandwich. I really like
KISS. I do. They were fun, put on a great show and asked nothing more from fans other than "Hey, if you
still want it, we'll give it to you...on a lunch pale...in a board game...pinball machine...lampshade" HEY! There is nothing wrong with that. You bought that shit, so stop yer whining!

In everyway, KISS were huge and perhaps at their center at this point. We even got ACE to come out of the
red room to sing "Shock Me" which still kicks royal ass to this day. And we have "Got Love For Sale" which
is probably the same love that Paul stole only a couple tracks before, but handed it over to Gene for some reason...maybe they were sharing? Without question, so evasive of artistic intent, they undelibrately created irony...and then scared it away with "Then She Kissed Me." For the love of God and guns, what the Hell were they thinking...or smoking...or was it just Paul...was this a team effort that missed the conversion after the touch down?! Or did the kicker rub a little too much "Be(e)n Gay" on his wounds...

Which brings us to the ultimate analysis of the creative kernal. Where were the band members at this point? I mean, in relation to one another? Paul and Gene were all business and in movie star mode while ACE "just wanted to play rock 'n' roll" (and freebase a pharmacy), while the "misunderstood" Peter Criss just wanted to sing another ballad on the Dick Cavett show...or something like that. Yep, times were a changin' Just ask they 5 million balls that dropped when DYNASTY came out (of the closet?!?). But that, my friends, is another story...

Review by: RIFF ARMAGEDDON!!!

*RIFF ARMAGEDDON is a regular Feature
on Electricbasement.com

This review was also published
on KISSONLINE, Dec 7.01

RADIOACTIVE
GENE SIMMONS (Casablanca Records)

Scenario: You hang out with a bunch of freaks known for spewing forth fiery riffs and take no prisoners imagery. Your power has grown to mammoth, almost unequalled proportions. You are on the verge of total world domination, at least sonically. The plan is, for one brief instance, to divide and conquer. You and your rock n’ roll brothers are to each record a solo album, theoretically maximizing the impact of your collective.

Now, more specifically, you are a demon. An especially menacing one at that. You spit blood, have bat wings and a propensity to unravel a tongue so large, it had to be sculpted by the God of Cunnilinguistics. One would imagine Mr. Gene Simmons had a tough task in this. If he went totally over the top heavy metal and all dark, he may be wasting precious KISS (the band) album material. Yet, if he strayed from this tried and true formula, it would be at risk of thinning out his character development. For whatever reason, he ditched the dark and went for strange hybrid of rock and soul that seems to have come from outer space.

What we get here is a slew of safe, non-abrasive hard rock that sometimes nears a biting riff "Tunnel of Love", but then lets it fall by the wayside in favor of a super soul chick choir. This occurs on many of the tracks, including the intro piece "Radioactive". Kind of like the stellar soundtrack material we got in late 70s feature porn flicks. Except this isn't quite that funky. But the soul is there. And it’s a bit thick. For instance, we get a plodding, slow grind bass, greased up with petroleum jelly on "Burning Up With Fever". Then there’s "True Confessions", a rather ordinary tune that embraces the Foghat Stone Blue era, with loose, fat bass lines and a rhythmic, bluesy swagger. I suppose for a creature that could be described as a one-man traveling orgy, it does have its relevance.

There are a couple tunes Gene didn’t write. One works, one uhh well, I’ll get to that one in a second. "Living In Sin" is a choice piece celebrating all the things Gene is - tender, twisted quickies. As in, "I’m Living in Sin at the Holiday Inn". Yet even worse than the miscue of "Then She Kissed Me" from "Love Gun", we fall to weakened knees with "When You Wish Upon a Star". Yep, the same tune we associate with the wonderful world of Disney. I mean, maybe this is Gene's sarcastic wink, a la Alice Cooper's famed Muppet Show appearance? I don’t know. I am afraid it would cause seizures in the weak if not consumed under a doctor’s care.

There are some objectively pleasant moments, such as on "See You Tonight", a waltzy, Herman's Hermits type of pop/rock sugar cube. And then there’s the (gasp!) catchy "Mr. Make Believe", a legitimate little softy. "Always Near You/Nowhere to Hide" is the least hokey of the dreamy fare. Yet all in all, Gene actually sounds endearing on these ones. That's okay, except he is supposed to vomit plasma, not rock babies to sleep! Okay, okay, I said objective.

The redone version of KISS's "See You In Your Dreams Tonight" sums up the soul chick-ification of the album. Here it is clear what the difference is between KISS and GENE material. However, the one track sums it all up in one giant, money shot, is "Man of a Thousand Faces". Yep, who is the REAL Gene Simmons? This song will only add to the confusion, like every rock cliché of the day thrown in a blender and plopped out in a smooth ooze. Basically, a made to order conglomerate of orchestra, a dash of rock, some Edgar Winter and perhaps most disturbing, a sugar sweet cup of Elton John.

Like a maddening struggle played out on a late night softcore premium movie channel, the GENE SIMMONS solo album may leave you thinking, I know it is nasty and it is technically sinful. But, where’s the blood and full frontal nudity? Like the bad apple in the Emmanuelle series, you keep it anyway. Hell, you are a connoisseur and it looks good on the shelf, even if it plays a bit underwritten and lacks the passion of the pre-Sylvia Krystal days.

PSYCHO CIRCUS
KISS (Mercury)

If you had any sign of a hard rock pulse in mid '98 you were awaiting the grand KISS comeback effort, if only to see some glimmer of hope that your music would be a feasible sales tool in the coming millenium. Sadly, MTV ignored their promo video and the album failed to have any impact on the genre, though it did hold its own within the KISS Army ranks, going Gold despite the media resistance. Hell, it even debuted in the top ten. But when there's bias, there's very little one can do to overcome it. Well, except, maybe, go on the world's longest farewell tour...and someday, they say, it will actually come to an end. But that's another chapter.

Yep, this one is special because it has the makeup factor. There is something about the whole KISS persona that is SO much more realize when they subliminally brainwash us with that amazing theatrical element. To be fair, their makeup free 80s material held its own, but more in a "look, he's holding his own, can't he do that in private" kinda way. Now we have "the real" KISS back on track and a novelty act again. This time, a cross generational event carefully constructed to relive the majesty yet not sound exactly '73 either. Did it work?

Actually, it kind of does, sometimes. Sure, the credits may be as real as their fictional personas, but at least the lead vocals must be theirs. Right? Oh well, enough speculation. The music is a professional yet totally predictable foray into KISS cliche, even giving Ace the goofy fun of singing "Into the Void." Not quite a "Shock Me", but still a festive piece for the underdog vocalist. We have a titanic title track in "Psycho Circus" that actually does the job of getting the listener pumped up about his rock 'n' roll fanaticism. Lyrics like "The amplifiers start to hum" can't be ignored by any headbanger worth his salt. It's even got a nice, anthemic groove and concept. Good job on this one.
"Within" is track number two and a crafty, early '90s KISS thingy. Dark and a bit modern, yet catchy. The score is 3 for 3. Remember, we jumped ahead to Ace's moment prematurely, so consider it covered. "I Pledge Allegiance to the State of Rock 'n' Roll" is true Paul. Overstated, dated and a guilty pleasure on par with "Three's Company" marathons on Nick at Nite. Another fun, high energy anthem for the masses, even if they have to roll their car windows up to keep the
cheese flowing from their woofers and tweeters and into the public domain.

A turn for the worse begins a la "We Are One". A fruity attempt at another "King of the Nighttime World" vibe of "we're all in this together and singing happy ass about it". Not cool. Was it ever? "You Wanted the Best" cranks and more than makes up for the prior mishap. Powerful, not particularly original but Hell, it rocks, even if only for a couple weeks. Probably went over well at album premiere parties."Raise Your Glasses" has that late '70s, early '80s brie-for-all smaltz. Paul sings it. He tries to inspire but all we are simply torn between the panicked choices of punching the skip button or the mangling the volume knob into negative silence. "I Finally Found My Way" might as well have been written by Richard Marx. Peter Criss sings on it. It's a ballad. It's the predicable part of KISS we didn't want to hear. Yuck. Let me see, our score has fallen to 5 for 8. Still worth a Playoff ring for sure. Wait, do they give out Playoff rings?

Oh shit. Here's "I'm Eighteen"...I mean, oops, "Dreamin". Another ballad but with a rockin' lunge. Well, like "I'm Eighteen." Song just has bad vibes from the Alice Cooper lawsuit alone, even if it is unexceptional, anyways, 5 for 9. Finally, we get that song with numbers in it we were all just losing sleep over. "Journey of 1,000 Years" plays like a slightly lively Pink Floyd b-side and buries the end of the album, raping the energy of the first half and dulling the excitement dramatically. Well, maybe
dramtically dull is a misuse of terms or perhaps an oxymoron, but somebody had to liven up the end of this review.

Some final notes. The album cover's motion special effect is cool, if only for the afternoon after picking up the album at Walmart. The production is standard for the genre. Nothing special, nothing poor. The playing, overall, is not inspired or spontaneous, but basically what you get from studio
musicians who made their living in the '80s. Oh, and uh...what's the "Psycho" part of the circus anyway? I still can't figure it out. Wait, there is that obsessive, neverending farewell tour...

This review was also published on
KISS FREAKS (Fall 2000)

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