Oh Crap, Declan Is Into Kiss Now
When my wife texted me that our five year old son Declan had seen a Kiss video, and now loved the band Kiss, wanted to see Kiss when they came to town and dress up like Gene Simmon’s Demon character for Halloween I believe my first response was, “Oh, shit.”
That’s because Gene Simmons is, objectively speaking, a terrible human being in addition to being a questionably talented musician. When my wife conveyed the news about Declan’s new obsession all I could think about was how much money I would be spending on Kiss crap if Declan did, in fact, become a dedicated member of the Kiss Army.
It’s not like Declan’s obsession with “Weird Al” Yankovic. Al’s a good guy as well as a talented musician whose music I never get sick of. Also, I have benefitted tremendously, professionally and financially, from my long-standing personal and professional relationship with Al. With Kiss, I only stand to lose money.
I was not overjoyed to learn that my son was now an instant Kiss super-fan but I can’t say I was surprised, either. My son is a weird five year old boy who loves comic books and monsters and superheroes and Halloween and spooky stuff. Why wouldn’t he love Kiss? Kiss was made for five year old boys like my son.
I will concede, as well, that when my wife gave me the news about Declan now loving The Demon my first response was, “Oh fuck” followed immediately by “Well, that might be fun!”
Because I don’t just hate the band Kiss: I also kind of fucking love them. Like so much in pop culture, I have an intense love-hate relationship with Kiss that has led me to read extensively about them, and write extensively about them, and listen to ALL of their solo albums AND read most of their memoirs as well as the memoirs of countless people involved with them, from hangers-on and gofers to power brokers and moguls.
I’ve immersed myself in all of Kiss’ many nadirs, most often for My World of Flops, including their four simultaneously released solo albums for Casablanca, its wonderfully inane 1978 television movie Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Park and, of course Music from “The Elder”, Kiss’ ill-fated bid for critical recognition and respectability, which was supposed to accompany an epic fantasy film of the same name that, to date, has NOT been made.
I wrote about all of this crap because it fascinated me and because, as a prolific pop culture writer, I need things to write about. But I also wrote about them on the off chance that when my son came to me with questions about Kiss I would be able to answer just about all of them despite having written extensively about how much I fucking hate Kiss.
Also, I’ve been looking for an excuse to see Kiss at least once in my life and it looks like Kiss’ show on September 8th in Atlanta might just represent my final chance to see Gene, Paul and the other two guys live, at least until the next farewell tour rolls along.
Besides, as a Juggalo I certainly have no right to judge anyone else’s musical tastes or deny the communal joy of watching freaks in face-paint perform before a rapturous audience of like-minded souls as well as the occasional skeptic and/or Vice journalist.
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