KISS @ The End of the Road — What the Band Has Meant to Me by Geoff Jackson

Well, it’s finally here: KISS’ last live performance ever (or so they say). To really reflect on it, one should take stock of all KISS accomplished and what they’ve offered the world the past 50 years.

In a word? Escapism.

Or maybe schmaltz. Definitely both.

Let me first share my understanding of the band and why seeing them perform one final show this Saturday on Pay-per-View will be both meaningful and irrelevant.

It’ll be meaningful because I’ve been a fan of the group — in one form or another — since I got introduced to them by a friend in the third grade. I watched KISS go unmasked in the early 80s on MTV, and a few of their cassette tapes accompanied me on my adolescent journeys — for better or for worse. I saw Ace Frehley perform at the Philadelphia Spectrum when I was a teenager, and I’ve caught KISS in concert seven different times the past 25 years - once with their full original lineup in the late 1990s, and again over the years with two able-bodied stand-ins hired when the core partnership of Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley could no longer work with original members Ace Frehley and Peter Criss.

KISS’ final performance will be irrelevant because I believe they’ll not only continue to influence pop culture based on past work, but because the band’s simply too hungry for fame and money to not now have a full set of four stand-ins carry-on the banner using trademarked makeup. While I’ve always thought returning to makeup was great for KISS nostalgia and covering-up wrinkles, the makeup itself is what people seem to be willing to pay for — and really, anyone can wear it. Simmons often teases in interviews that KISS could live-on with what he calls “ performance understudies”, likening his schtick to a Shakespearean play or a Broadway musical. And I’ve always thought of their future as something akin to the Blue Man Group or Cirque Du Soleil — acts that can have multiple traveling companies or permanent residencies, all performing at the same time — basically doing shows forever. (Quite a thought!)

But back to escapism and schmaltz … Simmons claimed the band tried to put together the group they themselves longed to see, something over-the-top and crazy that, as of yet, hadn’t existed. KISS carefully crafted an image of rebellion, unconventionality, and living life like a 24/7 party. The duo of Frehley and Criss bought into this image too much themselves, and their tenure with the band hit a much earlier End of the Road due to alcoholism, drug addiction, and unprofessional misconduct. Simmons and Stanley were always the business men — the ones who took the whole thing seriously and tried to offer a product that was exciting, inspirational, and inherently bankable I’ve read most of Simmons’ books - - they’re not really Shakespearean, despite whatever he’ll say in interviews - - but he’ll be the first to admit there’s nothing new under the sun; KISS was born to repackage ideas and combine trends previously unconnected. For example, an affinity for KISS springs eternal from, I think, a love of comic book superheroes. I can attest to this myself. Simmons once even said as much, he being a big fan and early collector of Marvel comics in the 1960s. Simmons admits his Demon persona basically modified the look of Marvel’s Black Bolt, one of the Fantastic Four’s throwaway side-characters — just look and you’ll see the wing flaps under the arms and all the black and silver colors: a pretty obvious inspiration.

Next, KISS’ music was built around crunchy three-chord structures to be simple and catchy. KISS never claimed to be musicians, per se; they always thought of themselves as showmen who use guitars and drums to offer-what-they-offer. No apologies, no excuses. This, I find, is really part of their charm. It makes them human and shows they understand what people want, and that they’re willing to meet us where we’re at. One goes to see Yo-Yo Ma or Yngvie Malmsteen for virtuosity and finesse; one sees KISS for searing guitars, pyrotechnics, and the crazy, circus-like atmosphere - both on stage and among the fanbase.

Ever since performing live since the 70s, KISS ends each show with confetti, flames a-blazing, and a rollicking rendition of their biggest hit, Rock n Roll All Nite. The tune was written to encapsulate the essence of the band in one anthem: a party, a collaboration (every member sings on it), and an experience. This is what you get every time — meat and potatoes. And In a word, escapism. And yes — schmaltz.

So it’ll be fitting that the lights go out this Saturday one last time on the confetti, the embers and fake blood, and the sweat on stage that helped create a product that sold for half a century. We’ll still be rockin’ and rollin’ all nite — and presumably partying every day -- long after you’re gone, KISS. (Or not). So thank you, Sirs.

And Goodnight!