O how the mighty have fallen over their own platform shoes
Jan 10 '05 (Updated Apr 11 '05)
Author's Product Rating
Pros
There are approximately two: I Stole Your Love and Love Gun. The rest are grisly.
Cons
They're almost too numerous to count without a CPA on hand.
The Bottom Line
This is the sound of a monster of rock falling on its head. Wanna hear something scary? They moved on to disco from here.
Full ReviewWarning, young musicians: this is what happens when you become more concerned with your latest line of lunch boxes than with your music. Please don't fall into the same trap as Peter, Paul, Ace, Gene, Matthew, Luke, and Mark.
You might recall that the last Kiss album I reviewed was their debut, a fine slice of bluesy Stonesey tunes for floozies. They did release albums between that one and "Love Gun", and while I have every intention of reviewing them as well, I just gotta be me, and randomness is a big part of who I is.
Oh, men of Kiss, you had so much going for y'all. You were banging half the planet, writing cock-rock anthems from Hell, freaking out the old while inspiring the young, and making tons of money in the process. Then you had to start buying into all the hype. You just couldn't overcome the urge to expand into the comic book, action figure, and Halloween costume markets. You even made a stupid movie in which you fought an equally stupid villain in an amusement park. Kiss moving into Scooby Doo's territory was a clash of childhood icons that left me deeply traumatized.
So, 1977 rolled around and found the Kissy-Poos quite full of themselves. "Destroyer" and "Rock And Roll Over" were huge albums by anyone's standards, and since they claim to have stayed away from ***** (well, Paul and Gene did), I can only blame success for leading them down the path to retardation. Either that or too much nookie.
The cover of "Love Gun" is a surefire sign that something was rotten in the state of kabuki. The four of them are standing before an audience of women who appear to be more silicone than flesh and bone. Gene is sporting quite the cod piece, and they all look like a bunch of fiends you'd expect to see fighting the Transformers (which was probably the intended effect). The fact that the cover is merely an illustration does not make it less distasteful, though Gene always did look better as a drawing. Then again, maybe I'm just envious that they got so many chicks.
On the inside sleeve is an embarassment of even greater magnitude: a firearm with "Kiss Love Gun" written on the side, and the word "BANG!" coming out of the barrel. If you think that's bad, wait 'til we get to the songs.
Oh, why wait. Let's do it.
The album opens up with a deception, the jammin' hard rocker known as "I Stole Your Love". Paul's high-end screech and dippy lyrics ring-around-the-rosey with a catchy chorus, good melody, and a decent shot of energy. Maybe this line only humors me because I teach school for a living: "I'm something different, ain't like the rest/how does it feel to find out you're failing your test?" I ought to throw that one out at my students, just to see how they'd react. Paul yells "GITT-ARS!", in a typically goofy outburst, and while he may threaten to steal your love, just be happy we're not dealing with Gene- he'd drag ya by the hair back to his cave and force his love upon you.
Speaking of Twisted Simmons, he sings as passionately as he can about statutory rape on "Christine Sixteen". There's a hilarious spoken part during the second chorus, where he talks about seeing his young friend coming out of school one day, and wanting her from moment one. He says she's been around AND is clean, though I don't know how that's even possible. Musically, there's nothing new going on, except for maybe the inclusion of a piano.
Gene announces on track three that he's "Got Love For Sale", though he ought to have been happy that people were shelling out money for his albums at that point. Expecting people to pay Gene Simmons for sex is just unreasonable. Another dumb, generic hard rock riff, with Moo Mouth singing in a most unattractive style.
Ace Frehley made his lead vocal debut (finally) on "Shock Me", a typical Stones-inspired number. The words are even more abysmal that usual: "shock me- make me feel better/put on your black leather/we can get together". Oh brother. How about "my insulation's gone/girl, you make me overload" or "I'm down to the bare wire"? They should've let Shel Silverstein take over the lyric writing- at least then it would've been stupid AND witty. Vocally, Ace sits somewhere in the middle of a triangle formed by Bob Dylan, William Hung, and that guy who sang "How Bizarre".
Thank God, Paul is back in the house. Even so, "Tomorrow And Tonight" is more of the same old, with a dopey chorus that people are supposed to sing along to. "Take me in the cellar, let me be your feller?" Was that a serious attempt to be hip and/or provocative? "We can rock all day, we can roll all night"? Pre-Kindergarteners have the ability to compose stuff that profound. And then they dare to drag in female backing vocalists. I give up.
Now wait a minute, "Love Gun" is a rockin' tune. Maybe there's hope for us yet. The riff is somewhat dark for this album, with a pony-riding trot to which you and your "mama" can "get hot". Hey baby, you got a bent for incest, that's your thang. The lyrics predictably use the bullet-discharging weapon as a metaphor for the johnson, and Paul offers his mama one more chance to sweat. Weirdo.
Peter Criss scores half a point with "Hooligan", thanks to the rawness of his throat. He also sounds more enthusiastic than the others, but then again, as the resident party animal of the group, he was probably hoping to score some money for exotic party favors. While "I'm a hooligan" is not a theme that racks up points for originality, at least he pulls the writing utensil out of the trousers.
It's time for a little Kissy funk on "Almost Human", which bears a slight resemblance to their earlier "She", though not enough to win awards. Gene (who, I think, was doing the Dio hand sign on the album cover) is "very hungry/and you're what I'm thinking of". Pass.
The funny story behind "Plaster Caster" wins it half a point as well, and while it doesn't stray from the narrow way, it's the slightest bit better than most. The plaster caster gals were hookers who used to make replicas of rock stars' penises, and stories abound of the items being used for activities I'm sure you can imagine. Gene, however, leaves no room for guesswork:
"the plaster's getting harder
and my love is perfection
a token of my love for her collection
plaster caster
grab ahold of me faster
if you wanna see my love
just ask her"
Wrapping up this thoroughly unimpressive bundle of genital musings is a cover of "Then She Kissed Me". Sounds like some 50's song (probably was), and I have the hardest time picturing men in dragon-shaped platform shoes performing it.
At this point, Messrs. Stanley, Simmons, Frehley, and Criss earnestly began to murder their already slim musical credibility with an obvious attempt to maintain their status as love gods in Disney suits. They were so desperate to make the leap into popular culture that they forgot how to write songs, and would not rediscover that ability for quite some time to come (there are those who say that they still shouldn't call off the search). "Destroyer" is a fantastic album, "Rock And Roll Over" is so-so, but this one makes me want to dig a hole all night and hide in it all day.
Recommended:
No
Jan 10 '05 (Updated Apr 11 '05)
Author's Product Rating
Pros
There are approximately two: I Stole Your Love and Love Gun. The rest are grisly.
Cons
They're almost too numerous to count without a CPA on hand.
The Bottom Line
This is the sound of a monster of rock falling on its head. Wanna hear something scary? They moved on to disco from here.
Full ReviewWarning, young musicians: this is what happens when you become more concerned with your latest line of lunch boxes than with your music. Please don't fall into the same trap as Peter, Paul, Ace, Gene, Matthew, Luke, and Mark.
You might recall that the last Kiss album I reviewed was their debut, a fine slice of bluesy Stonesey tunes for floozies. They did release albums between that one and "Love Gun", and while I have every intention of reviewing them as well, I just gotta be me, and randomness is a big part of who I is.
Oh, men of Kiss, you had so much going for y'all. You were banging half the planet, writing cock-rock anthems from Hell, freaking out the old while inspiring the young, and making tons of money in the process. Then you had to start buying into all the hype. You just couldn't overcome the urge to expand into the comic book, action figure, and Halloween costume markets. You even made a stupid movie in which you fought an equally stupid villain in an amusement park. Kiss moving into Scooby Doo's territory was a clash of childhood icons that left me deeply traumatized.
So, 1977 rolled around and found the Kissy-Poos quite full of themselves. "Destroyer" and "Rock And Roll Over" were huge albums by anyone's standards, and since they claim to have stayed away from ***** (well, Paul and Gene did), I can only blame success for leading them down the path to retardation. Either that or too much nookie.
The cover of "Love Gun" is a surefire sign that something was rotten in the state of kabuki. The four of them are standing before an audience of women who appear to be more silicone than flesh and bone. Gene is sporting quite the cod piece, and they all look like a bunch of fiends you'd expect to see fighting the Transformers (which was probably the intended effect). The fact that the cover is merely an illustration does not make it less distasteful, though Gene always did look better as a drawing. Then again, maybe I'm just envious that they got so many chicks.
On the inside sleeve is an embarassment of even greater magnitude: a firearm with "Kiss Love Gun" written on the side, and the word "BANG!" coming out of the barrel. If you think that's bad, wait 'til we get to the songs.
Oh, why wait. Let's do it.
The album opens up with a deception, the jammin' hard rocker known as "I Stole Your Love". Paul's high-end screech and dippy lyrics ring-around-the-rosey with a catchy chorus, good melody, and a decent shot of energy. Maybe this line only humors me because I teach school for a living: "I'm something different, ain't like the rest/how does it feel to find out you're failing your test?" I ought to throw that one out at my students, just to see how they'd react. Paul yells "GITT-ARS!", in a typically goofy outburst, and while he may threaten to steal your love, just be happy we're not dealing with Gene- he'd drag ya by the hair back to his cave and force his love upon you.
Speaking of Twisted Simmons, he sings as passionately as he can about statutory rape on "Christine Sixteen". There's a hilarious spoken part during the second chorus, where he talks about seeing his young friend coming out of school one day, and wanting her from moment one. He says she's been around AND is clean, though I don't know how that's even possible. Musically, there's nothing new going on, except for maybe the inclusion of a piano.
Gene announces on track three that he's "Got Love For Sale", though he ought to have been happy that people were shelling out money for his albums at that point. Expecting people to pay Gene Simmons for sex is just unreasonable. Another dumb, generic hard rock riff, with Moo Mouth singing in a most unattractive style.
Ace Frehley made his lead vocal debut (finally) on "Shock Me", a typical Stones-inspired number. The words are even more abysmal that usual: "shock me- make me feel better/put on your black leather/we can get together". Oh brother. How about "my insulation's gone/girl, you make me overload" or "I'm down to the bare wire"? They should've let Shel Silverstein take over the lyric writing- at least then it would've been stupid AND witty. Vocally, Ace sits somewhere in the middle of a triangle formed by Bob Dylan, William Hung, and that guy who sang "How Bizarre".
Thank God, Paul is back in the house. Even so, "Tomorrow And Tonight" is more of the same old, with a dopey chorus that people are supposed to sing along to. "Take me in the cellar, let me be your feller?" Was that a serious attempt to be hip and/or provocative? "We can rock all day, we can roll all night"? Pre-Kindergarteners have the ability to compose stuff that profound. And then they dare to drag in female backing vocalists. I give up.
Now wait a minute, "Love Gun" is a rockin' tune. Maybe there's hope for us yet. The riff is somewhat dark for this album, with a pony-riding trot to which you and your "mama" can "get hot". Hey baby, you got a bent for incest, that's your thang. The lyrics predictably use the bullet-discharging weapon as a metaphor for the johnson, and Paul offers his mama one more chance to sweat. Weirdo.
Peter Criss scores half a point with "Hooligan", thanks to the rawness of his throat. He also sounds more enthusiastic than the others, but then again, as the resident party animal of the group, he was probably hoping to score some money for exotic party favors. While "I'm a hooligan" is not a theme that racks up points for originality, at least he pulls the writing utensil out of the trousers.
It's time for a little Kissy funk on "Almost Human", which bears a slight resemblance to their earlier "She", though not enough to win awards. Gene (who, I think, was doing the Dio hand sign on the album cover) is "very hungry/and you're what I'm thinking of". Pass.
The funny story behind "Plaster Caster" wins it half a point as well, and while it doesn't stray from the narrow way, it's the slightest bit better than most. The plaster caster gals were hookers who used to make replicas of rock stars' penises, and stories abound of the items being used for activities I'm sure you can imagine. Gene, however, leaves no room for guesswork:
"the plaster's getting harder
and my love is perfection
a token of my love for her collection
plaster caster
grab ahold of me faster
if you wanna see my love
just ask her"
Wrapping up this thoroughly unimpressive bundle of genital musings is a cover of "Then She Kissed Me". Sounds like some 50's song (probably was), and I have the hardest time picturing men in dragon-shaped platform shoes performing it.
At this point, Messrs. Stanley, Simmons, Frehley, and Criss earnestly began to murder their already slim musical credibility with an obvious attempt to maintain their status as love gods in Disney suits. They were so desperate to make the leap into popular culture that they forgot how to write songs, and would not rediscover that ability for quite some time to come (there are those who say that they still shouldn't call off the search). "Destroyer" is a fantastic album, "Rock And Roll Over" is so-so, but this one makes me want to dig a hole all night and hide in it all day.
Recommended:
No
Funny review. I tried to never dissect or over-analyze anything KISS ever did. To do so would only reveal how shallow they really are. It's just ear candy at best and I stopped listening to or caring about KISS (except for The Elder) when I was 16.
