Manly, Raucous Riff-RockKISS at Air Canada Centre in Toronto on Friday
By Brad Wheeler
The thing about painting your mug is that if you were to lose face, it's easy enough to slap another coat of grease paint on yourself, come back, and try again. The long-running bombastic rock band KISS was being roundly booed - reasonably so, given that its opening number (King of the Night Time World) ended abruptly when the costumed quartet's fearsome sound system cut out. The singer Paul Stanley, his face caked white, made like a mime, mouthing words and flashing his fingers that the band would return in five - no, better make it 10 - minutes.
KISS left the stage, back to the bat cave. The band that wished to rock and roll all night had failed to complete even one song.
The delay was short. The attention span of the urbane crowd, many of whose members had dressed themselves up, Halloween-like in KISS makeup and dress, would not be taxed. The band returned with ruggedly rocking Deuce and a superb spectacle-show to follow, but not before the strutting Stanley explained to his faithful "KISS Army" audience that there was a problem with the electricity at the arena, but that it was fixed, and "we are here to kick your ass."
Kick our ass. Some apology, right? After its raucous interruptus shouldn't KISS - comprised of Stanley, guitarist Tommy Thayer, drummer Eric Singer and the unavoidable, tongue-gesturing bassist Gene Simmons - have been a touch remorseful? One supposes not. The cartoon-garbed troupe, audaciously and with no irony involved, sees itself as highly virile and bad-assed. Kick our asses then gentlemen, do your best.
They did fine. The well-attended concert was manly riff-rock, roaring fire blasts, flash guitar licks and feats of derring-do. Modern Day Delilah, from the forthcoming Sonic Boom album, was fairly lost in the shuffle of mementoes from the past. In particular, the dog-collared and self-assured Stanley, 57, was in enviable form physically and vocally, sounding on classics Hotter Than Hell and C'mon and Love Me just like he did when the band first roared their way onto school lunch boxes in the mid-seventies. (Marking the career longevity, the tour is called KISS Alive/35.)
At one point, Stanley, his unnaturally dark and lustrous hair flowing, clung to a circus apparatus as he flew over the heads of his fans to a small, circular stage at the other end of the arena for Love Gun, one of six encore numbers.
Earlier, the 60-year-old Simmons, all platform boots and silver armour, did his blood-spewing thing and was yanked high above the stage to the lighting rigging to belt out the self-apparent I Love it Loud. He's starting to look a bit like Grandpa Munster.
The show had begun to the taped sound of Led Zeppelin's Rock and Roll, but what KISS does is something different than rock music. It is outlandish theatre, with the roles of the Catman and the Spaceman (originally created by drummer Peter Criss and guitarist Ace Frehley, respectively) now played by musicians whose names really don't matter. Stanley, as the Starchild persona, and Simmons, as the Demon, still fill their leading roles strongly.
The main set ended, amidst a flurry of confetti and pyrotechnics, with the forthright Rock and Roll All Nite. "You drive us wild," promised Simmons, "we'll drive you crazy." The intergenerational audience held up its end of the bargain, as did its heroes KISS. And with costumes and makeup to cover up missing original members and the signs of advancing age, "all nite" may have a long way to go yet.
KISS plays Oshawa Wednesday; Winnipeg, Nov. 9; Saskatoon, Nov. 10; Calgary, Nov. 12; Vancouver, Nov. 14.
By Brad Wheeler
The thing about painting your mug is that if you were to lose face, it's easy enough to slap another coat of grease paint on yourself, come back, and try again. The long-running bombastic rock band KISS was being roundly booed - reasonably so, given that its opening number (King of the Night Time World) ended abruptly when the costumed quartet's fearsome sound system cut out. The singer Paul Stanley, his face caked white, made like a mime, mouthing words and flashing his fingers that the band would return in five - no, better make it 10 - minutes.
KISS left the stage, back to the bat cave. The band that wished to rock and roll all night had failed to complete even one song.
The delay was short. The attention span of the urbane crowd, many of whose members had dressed themselves up, Halloween-like in KISS makeup and dress, would not be taxed. The band returned with ruggedly rocking Deuce and a superb spectacle-show to follow, but not before the strutting Stanley explained to his faithful "KISS Army" audience that there was a problem with the electricity at the arena, but that it was fixed, and "we are here to kick your ass."
Kick our ass. Some apology, right? After its raucous interruptus shouldn't KISS - comprised of Stanley, guitarist Tommy Thayer, drummer Eric Singer and the unavoidable, tongue-gesturing bassist Gene Simmons - have been a touch remorseful? One supposes not. The cartoon-garbed troupe, audaciously and with no irony involved, sees itself as highly virile and bad-assed. Kick our asses then gentlemen, do your best.
They did fine. The well-attended concert was manly riff-rock, roaring fire blasts, flash guitar licks and feats of derring-do. Modern Day Delilah, from the forthcoming Sonic Boom album, was fairly lost in the shuffle of mementoes from the past. In particular, the dog-collared and self-assured Stanley, 57, was in enviable form physically and vocally, sounding on classics Hotter Than Hell and C'mon and Love Me just like he did when the band first roared their way onto school lunch boxes in the mid-seventies. (Marking the career longevity, the tour is called KISS Alive/35.)
At one point, Stanley, his unnaturally dark and lustrous hair flowing, clung to a circus apparatus as he flew over the heads of his fans to a small, circular stage at the other end of the arena for Love Gun, one of six encore numbers.
Earlier, the 60-year-old Simmons, all platform boots and silver armour, did his blood-spewing thing and was yanked high above the stage to the lighting rigging to belt out the self-apparent I Love it Loud. He's starting to look a bit like Grandpa Munster.
The show had begun to the taped sound of Led Zeppelin's Rock and Roll, but what KISS does is something different than rock music. It is outlandish theatre, with the roles of the Catman and the Spaceman (originally created by drummer Peter Criss and guitarist Ace Frehley, respectively) now played by musicians whose names really don't matter. Stanley, as the Starchild persona, and Simmons, as the Demon, still fill their leading roles strongly.
The main set ended, amidst a flurry of confetti and pyrotechnics, with the forthright Rock and Roll All Nite. "You drive us wild," promised Simmons, "we'll drive you crazy." The intergenerational audience held up its end of the bargain, as did its heroes KISS. And with costumes and makeup to cover up missing original members and the signs of advancing age, "all nite" may have a long way to go yet.
KISS plays Oshawa Wednesday; Winnipeg, Nov. 9; Saskatoon, Nov. 10; Calgary, Nov. 12; Vancouver, Nov. 14.
