There is no single band or musician that has had more influence over my love of all things music-related than did Kiss, and though at times in life this has been an embarrassing truth to admit, I find consolation in knowing that so many music fans and other musicians feel the same way. Admittedly, their albums don’t get the kind of heavy rotation they used to receive in my bedroom as a little kid, but Kiss was my first full-fledged obsession and they were the catalyst from which all my other musical meanderings sprang forth. By the time I was old enough to go see them in concert they had, regrettably, already taken off their makeup and lost some of their original cast, but I will never forget the first time I laid eyes on my brother-in-law’s copy of KISS Alive!---they looked like some kind of bloodthirsty, black-magic superheroes from outer space. I was instantly hooked, and the music I heard thoroughly delivered on the visual promise; all the scorn from parents and persistent rumours about KISS standing for ‘Knights In Satan’s Service” only fueled my insubordinate, barely-pubescent spirit (it obviously doesn’t stand for anything, but oh, isn’t occult-dabbling such an endearing rite of passage for all disobedient children?!). This was the second album Kiss released, and although the mix sort of feels like somebody spiked the punch with Seconals & Nembutals, it’s one of my favorites; frankly, that dark and murky vibe fit Kiss’s image well, and the pictures found on the back of the album were a good soft-core indication of the debauchery going on behind closed doors. There weren’t too many Kiss songs that never made it into the live repertoire, so perhaps that’s why I am always drawn to them, but this near-midtempo track is my hands down favorite “deep cut” of theirs. Now, we all know that Gene Simmons is a superfreak (seriously, the CDC should do research on his tongue, as it has undoubtedly come into contact with every known STD on the planet, and probably a good number of other diseases and creatures as well, so perhaps there is promise for vaccines in the man’s tongue…I’m just sayin’…), but the lyrics he composed here sure drive that point home, “…little lady, can’t you see? You’re so young and so much different than I…I’m ninety-three, you’re sixteen…can’t you see I’m goin’ blind?” Surely not the first rock tune about jail bait, but to envision yourself as a perverted old man when you are actually still in your prime is just twisted. Instrumentally speaking, the song feels like a drifting dream, with lovely stoned flourishes of guitar glittering everywhere care of my all-time favorite member of the band: the perpetually wasted ‘Space’ Ace Frehley.
