rock-and-roll-all-night-and-party-every-day. The reality of Kiss-teria has found some folk astounded, outraged, even reduced to quibbling disbelief. Conversely, many are enchanted, tantalized, spellbound. Whatever people choose as their opinion, Kiss culls reaction from the gut of their listeners/spectators. So these people talk, and meanwhile, all of the controversy is building Kiss to a standard bousebo name.
ne pre brie days the rock market became saturated with the sixties-demi-God-image of cutesy, skinny Englishmen performing updated American rock and roll. Face it, everyone was crying for something, ANYthing new, exciting, invigorating. Then along came Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Peter Criss and Ace Frehley, with visions of creating four new super-heroes to channel through a different media—the rock media. The music (interestingly, in direct contrast to the Sixties), is derivative of the English hard rocking sort, simply musicians playing their interpretation of what they grew up on. It’s the full-bodied animated cartoon supermen. who, to the minds of the Seventies rockers, unlike the television images, are alive, human, and can actually be seen in action at a concert. Imagine how it must excite these kids to be given the chance to see a live, onstage, hour and a half cartoon show.
Through this ruse, Kiss members may well earn immortality. The combination of the group’s undeveloped visions, their management, record company and publicist’s ingenuity, has enabled Kiss to reach
markets prey: untouched by rock. Marvel Comics, for instance, has r ked up on the group, and will soon have a comic series on the stands, beginning with a full–sized color magazine. The possibilities are limitless, as imagination is the ultimate infinite. Perhaps the Japanese will make a new movie, “Kiss Meets King Kong,” or Hershey’s Kiss-es, maybe? The group is currently working out ideas for their own full length film, to be titled, “The Smell Of The Crowd, The Roar Of The Greasepaint,” which, says Simmons, will be completely surrealistic, with nothing directly related to rock, no plot or methods, just one hundred percent fantasy and fun. “Trix are for kids,” Simmons declares, “Don’t make rock and roll grow up . . .”
And what of all this insanity? Where are these guys coming from? That libidinous and menacing vampire, bassist Simmons, has an interesting story. “My ancestry comes from Jang, Hungary, right outside of the Carpithian Mountains (the area known as Transylvania). I speak fluent Hungarian, and grew up with an intrigue in all that mythology. Besides, I have always been enchanted by someone who could live forever.” For Gene, who word has it, at one time taught school, this is a dream well on its way to solidity, with astounding profitable realism. Do you recall sitting glued to the television to watch the Bela Lagusa/Werewolf/Mummy horror flicks? (Simmons: “Go ahead, ask me anything about any horror movie . . .”). Remember build-it-yourself Frankenstein models that glowed in the dark? Hints of adolescent psychology come to light the