No Regrets by Joe Layden Ace Frehley John Ostrosky
Authors: Joe Layden Ace Frehley John Ostrosky
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group, favoring alcohol and drugs, with women merely part of the mix. Like me, Peter had been a member of a gang when he was younger, and his personality had been partially shaped by that experience. We gravitated toward each other as the band went forward.
But I don’t want to imply that the four of us didn’t get along. Wedid, especially in the formative months and years. You can’t spend that much time together, working toward a common goal, without fashioning some type of bond. Just as you can’t help but get on each other’s nerves after a while. By any reasonable standard, we were destitute. A few of us had part-time jobs—Paul and I drove cabs, Gene worked at a magazine—but there was never much money. It didn’t seem to matter. We all believed that soon enough we’d be supporting ourselves solely as musicians. We had good songs, solid musicianship, and confidence that there was a market for theatrical rock. We wanted to take it further than any of the acts that inspired and influenced us, like the Who, Hendrix, the Move, Alice Cooper, and the New York Dolls.
The Dolls were a gender-bending, pre-punk group fronted by David Johansen and Johnny Thunders. They wore high heels and makeup and generally favored androgynous clothing. They influenced a lot of other musicians on the New York scene, and they had an effect on KISS, both musically and stylistically.
So did Alice, probably even to a greater degree, because Alice’s sound was more polished and commercial, and his show revolved around theatrics. Alice Cooper in the 1970s brought blood and guts to the stage, combining rock and performance art in a way that had never been attempted. He wasn’t just a singer; he was a character in his own band, and that character did crazy, repulsive things in the name of art. Alice, like the Dolls, wore androgynous fashion, only with a sadomasochistic flavor. He utilized guillotines and snakes and buckets of blood in his shows. And people loved it.
Well, not all of the people, obviously. Conservative groups (and more than a few parents) thought Alice was doing the devil’s work, corrupting kids and peddling sex and violence. They hated him, a response that predictably helped fuel sales of record albums and concert tickets.
Alice knew exactly what he was doing. He made melodic but hard commercial rock, and he sold it with a grisly flourish (as well as a wink and a nod, I might add, though not everyone noticed), promising to make every night Halloween. It was nothing short of brilliant.He’s now one of the most recognizable icons in rock ’n’ roll. (Little did I know Alice and I would become good friends later on down the road.)
We knew from the beginning that we wanted to follow his lead. We wanted to wear makeup and have outlandish costumes, and play hard rock. Beyond that, we weren’t so sure. We also weren’t sure about what we wanted to call ourselves. Choosing the right name was important—it had to be a good fit, convey the right image and attitude. And we all had to be comfortable with it. Looking back now I realize that one of the things that made KISS unique was the fact that we were such a democratic organization. That may seem hard to believe now, with only Gene and Paul left from the original lineup, and Gene having so carefully cultivated an image of calm control. But we were four equal partners almost from the moment the lineup was complete.
Names were tossed around for several weeks, with most being discarded in a matter of minutes. At one point, probably out of exasperation, someone suggested that we call the band, simply and graphically, FUCK! That one, too, suffered a quick demise. We wanted to be radical; we wanted to really push the envelope in a way no other band had done. FUCK! would have done the trick. It also would have made it impossible to get a record deal, or radio airplay, or any of the other things we wanted to achieve. So that wasn’t going to work. FUCK! was a dead end, in the
But I don’t want to imply that the four of us didn’t get along. Wedid, especially in the formative months and years. You can’t spend that much time together, working toward a common goal, without fashioning some type of bond. Just as you can’t help but get on each other’s nerves after a while. By any reasonable standard, we were destitute. A few of us had part-time jobs—Paul and I drove cabs, Gene worked at a magazine—but there was never much money. It didn’t seem to matter. We all believed that soon enough we’d be supporting ourselves solely as musicians. We had good songs, solid musicianship, and confidence that there was a market for theatrical rock. We wanted to take it further than any of the acts that inspired and influenced us, like the Who, Hendrix, the Move, Alice Cooper, and the New York Dolls.
The Dolls were a gender-bending, pre-punk group fronted by David Johansen and Johnny Thunders. They wore high heels and makeup and generally favored androgynous clothing. They influenced a lot of other musicians on the New York scene, and they had an effect on KISS, both musically and stylistically.
So did Alice, probably even to a greater degree, because Alice’s sound was more polished and commercial, and his show revolved around theatrics. Alice Cooper in the 1970s brought blood and guts to the stage, combining rock and performance art in a way that had never been attempted. He wasn’t just a singer; he was a character in his own band, and that character did crazy, repulsive things in the name of art. Alice, like the Dolls, wore androgynous fashion, only with a sadomasochistic flavor. He utilized guillotines and snakes and buckets of blood in his shows. And people loved it.
Well, not all of the people, obviously. Conservative groups (and more than a few parents) thought Alice was doing the devil’s work, corrupting kids and peddling sex and violence. They hated him, a response that predictably helped fuel sales of record albums and concert tickets.
Alice knew exactly what he was doing. He made melodic but hard commercial rock, and he sold it with a grisly flourish (as well as a wink and a nod, I might add, though not everyone noticed), promising to make every night Halloween. It was nothing short of brilliant.He’s now one of the most recognizable icons in rock ’n’ roll. (Little did I know Alice and I would become good friends later on down the road.)
We knew from the beginning that we wanted to follow his lead. We wanted to wear makeup and have outlandish costumes, and play hard rock. Beyond that, we weren’t so sure. We also weren’t sure about what we wanted to call ourselves. Choosing the right name was important—it had to be a good fit, convey the right image and attitude. And we all had to be comfortable with it. Looking back now I realize that one of the things that made KISS unique was the fact that we were such a democratic organization. That may seem hard to believe now, with only Gene and Paul left from the original lineup, and Gene having so carefully cultivated an image of calm control. But we were four equal partners almost from the moment the lineup was complete.
Names were tossed around for several weeks, with most being discarded in a matter of minutes. At one point, probably out of exasperation, someone suggested that we call the band, simply and graphically, FUCK! That one, too, suffered a quick demise. We wanted to be radical; we wanted to really push the envelope in a way no other band had done. FUCK! would have done the trick. It also would have made it impossible to get a record deal, or radio airplay, or any of the other things we wanted to achieve. So that wasn’t going to work. FUCK! was a dead end, in the
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