Great moments in music history: The Flash Gordon soundtrack

QueenI caught a matinee of Interstellar yesterday, yet another excellent effort from Christopher Nolan. But the movie itself isn’t what struck a nerve. No, it was a musical cue that lasted for all of about two seconds during one of the film’s climactic scenes and wound up being a false alarm.

I won’t spoil the film for anyone, but as Mr. McConaughey’s [redacted] [redacted] into [redacted], I swear the film’s score, for about a millisecond, sounded just like the well-synthesized section of “In the Space Capsule,” the love theme from that other cinematic sci-fi masterpiece, Flash Gordon.

I wouldn’t have thought too much about it, but I’ve had Queen on the brain ALL weekend. After I got off work late Friday night, I came home to find Queen Live Montreal playing on Palladia at 3 in the morning. It was majestic, and it just reminded me of how I wish I could’ve been a teenager in the late ’70s so I could have seen this band in all its cinematic glory. Alas, it was not to be. Rest in peace, Freddie Mercury.

Soundtrack coverBut for a band with enough stadium-rocking anthems … that will, that will … rock you, it was their soundtrack to a cheesy sci-fi movie that came out when I was in first grade that was mind-altering.

I was 7 years old when that movie came out, and I’m fairly certain my mom’s best friend Kathy took my brother and me to see it on opening night. And considering a 7-year-old hasn’t quite developed a Gene Siskel-esque eye for fine cinema, I pretty much thought it was the greatest fucking movie I had ever seen that didn’t have the words “Star” or “Wars” or “Pete’s” or “Dragon” in the title. It wasn’t until I was much older – ninth grade or so – that I rode my bike out to the mall and rented it on VHS and realized it was a piece of shit.

But what an entertaining piece of shit!

1980 Flash Gordon Football Trading CardI mean, when I was 7, I was just captivated by the landscapes that pretty much looked like a bowl of water with a bunch of swirled food coloring. And spaceships!. And lizard men with their eyeballs in their mouths! And dudes with blue blood! And green blood! And Hawkmen!

(Something that I didn’t realize was hilarious until much, much later: the character Flash Gordon was the star quarterback of the New York Jets. I like to imagine him as the heir apparent to Joe Namath, but then he suddenly vanished from the face of the earth, which means they STILL drafted Ken O’Brien over Dan Marino in the ’83 draft. Even in the realm of sci-fi/fantasy, the Jets still suck.)

Anyway, it wasn’t until I was 15 that I realized what was actually appealing were the chicks. The planet Mongo had a thing for draping all its royalty in pink spandex (or less). Better to be comfortable and sexy than regal.

Princess Aura

This is what I was too young to appreciate at age 7

 

Clearly, in the year 4000, we will have shag carpet from ceiling to floor.

Clearly, the year 4000 will have shag carpet on the walls.

(And while we’re at it, I wish I could still be around for the 40th century, since – as Barbarella taught us – we can get ourselves off with the Orgasmatron in a world that looks like Austin Powers’ Electric Psychedelic Pussycat Swingers Club. So 2,000 years from now, the universe will look like swinging London in 1968? Awesome!)

But, rightfully so, the legacy of Flash Gordon is its kick-ass soundtrack. I got it for Christmas that year as a gift from Kathy’s brother Jeff (who was also a de facto big brother to my brother and me, complete with the cool car and the playful bullying … 12 years older than us, he used to hold us down and dangle spit about two inches from our screaming faces as we thrashed around like marlins on a giant fish hook. I can only hope to have a son of my own someday to bust this move out on).

That record was a proud edition to my ever-growing music collection, which consisted of my mom and Kathy’s discarded 8-track mixtapes, as well as my own Fisher-Price record player, with Kiss’ Rock and Roll Over and a pile of 45s that included “Disco Duck,” “Convoy,” “Boogie Oogie Oogie,” “Brick House,” “Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?” and a double-A-side of “Hot Blooded/Double Vision.”

I can’t think of a better album for the attention span of a 7-year-old. A bunch of minute-long bursts of rock guitar and synthesizers, interspersed throughout with the laser blast sound effects and cheesy dialogue (delivered by the dudes better known as Father Merrin from The Exorcist, the Fiddler on the Roof, James Bond IV, and a magnificent Shakespearian stage legend whose booming voice is unfortunately best remembered for this ):

It really was the next best thing to having the movie in the days before VCRs were plentiful. And bookending the album were two actual SONGS – the bumping “Flash’s Theme,” featuring Roger Taylor’s pulsating drums, and “The Hero,” which is pure Brian May guitar bliss followed by the soundtrack’s overture.

What would’ve happened if I’d gotten, say, the Star Wars soundtrack instead? Orchestra? At age 7? No, instead I got to soak up the bombastic riffs. I was on my way.

Eventually, I got into Queen for real. Queen’s Greatest Hits (arguably THE greatest greatest-hits album of all time … fuck the Eagles) was the go-to cassette in my Walkman when I did my paper route for a year. Yes, I was in up to my eyeballs with Queen before Wayne, Garth, and the Mirth Mobile drove “Bohemian Rhapsody” to the top of the charts during my senior year of high school, 17 years after its initial release.

Queen had more soundtrack success after that, with its contributions to Highlander and that triumphant moment when Nerd Persecution ended and Lewis the Nerd stole the hot cheerleader away from the dastardly Alpha Betas, all to the strains of “We Are The Champions,” in Revenge of the Nerds.

But nothing was quite like THAT soundtrack. I finally bought it on CD when I was in college, and I once briefly considered putting it on as sex music (have you heard “In the Death Cell,” “Execution of Flash,” and “The Kiss” back to back to back? They’re really quite dreamy), but I figured Prince Vultan bellowing “GORDON’S ALIVE?!?!” might spoil the moment. I instead chose to romance the lucky lady with a combination of Dark Side of the Moon and Santana’s Abraxas. Ah, the art of seduction (there really is nothing like “Oye Como Va” to set the lovemaking mood. Oh, alternative women at the UI in the ’90s, I love and miss you all).

And when it still pops up in pop culture, it makes me giddy. I’ll never forget sitting in the theater and clapping like one of those toy monkeys that crashes cymbals when it showed up in the wildly-underrated, pitch-black comedy Observe and Report (it was basically Taxi Driver but as vehicle for dark humor), as Seth Rogen’s schlub, comedically-psychotic mall cop beats the shit out of a bunch of real cops with his flashlight, all to the majestic flourishes of Flash’s “Battle Theme” and “The Hero”:

And, of course … Ted:

Next year will be the 35th anniversary of the release of the Flash Gordon soundtrack. Since Queen is still putting out new records under the Queen moniker (just this week, they released Queen Forever, featuring long-lost discarded tracks featuring both the late Freddie Mercury and their long-retired bassist John Deacon), my hope is that they’ll revisit Flash Gordon, stripping out all the dialogue and unnecessary sound effects and giving us just the music in its purest form. I’d scoop that shit up on the first day.

I mean, Interstellar was awesome and all, but it didn’t have Queen. Oh well, nobody’s perfect, not even Christopher Nolan.

Let us know what you think. Sound off in the comments, or have your say on our Facebook page. Or yell at us on Twitter.

Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Festivus: Sam’s Airing of Grievances

Editor’s note: Remember that guy who wrote about Kiss? Sam’s back with some Rock and Roll Hall of Fame musings. I think this guy is passing the audition. Mainly because he mentioned the Cure again, which keeps him in my good graces. Plus, he writes one fucking thing and sets a one-day high in Music or Space Shuttle? traffic! This tells me that Sam has awesome friends who click stuff he shares on Facebook, AND that Todd and I need better, more-likely-to-click-our-links Facebook friends. (By the way, you can find all MoSS? posts at our Facebook page. Click the “Like” button on the right side of the page.) –Chris


rock and roll hall of fame exterior

I’m obsessed with the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Actually, I’m obsessed with all Hall of Fames in general, I guess. I pissed and moaned for days a few months ago when my main Houston Astro, Craig Biggio, missed induction. You see, it takes 75 percent of the votes to earn induction. He got 74.8 percent. They don’t round up. So after the number of ballots cast was made public, it was determined that he missed the cut by two votes.

Two!

One Hall voter came out and said he left his ballot completely empty except for a vote for ’80s pitching ace Jack Morris, justifying his refusal to vote for anybody who played during the “steroid era.” Jack Morris, who pitched in the ‘80s and early ‘90s. In the American League. Which means he pitched, at some point in time, to Jose Canseco, the only guy proud to admit before Congress that he willingly took steroids. Take a bow, genius.

Even more insane, every fall, I spend a crazy amount of time obsessing over a thing called the Survivor Hall of Fame. Yes, a Hall of Fame for the CBS reality game show. For weeks, I solicit (they would probably say troll) the hell out of former players on Twitter. I argue about it on message boards. I’ve even had my own personal rules for induction criteria published. However, there’s no physical building or artifacts. No pilgrimage to see your favorite players enshrined. Really, the Survivor Hall of Fame is essentially just a blog, with a few photos and some online interviews. You know what? I don’t care. I love Survivor so I want it done right. I care. WAAAAYYYYY too much. Sorry, Gordon.

But there’s nothing that saps my time and energy like the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. In fact, I’m a little embarrassed by how much it matters to me. But it does. And it’s never mattered more to me than this year, because the first truly revolutionary band (Nirvana) of the generation that defines my age group (Generation X) came up for induction and got in on the first ballot. Even more significantly, after years of crying to my poor, poor friends and colleagues about the injustice of the snub, the band that helped shape my pop cultural existence (Kiss) finally got in after having to wait for 14 years. The ceremony was a couple of weeks ago now, and it’s still all I think about. I really need a life.

I engaged in plenty of back and forth on social media this season, and was fortunate to gain lots of insight from a few people much more informed than I am (check out Brian Ives, Tom Lane, and the endless resource that is Future Rock Legends, for starters). Plus, after the illuminating blog by Talking Heads drummer Chris Frantz, I feel like I understand better how much politics can ruin something that represents an entity that’s supposed to be about rebellion like rock and roll.

So, in the wake of all that, the following diatribe may read like a butthurt plea supporting some of my favorite bands that don’t have a chance in hell of ever being inducted (hell, even a few I don’t really care about at all but still appreciate their significance). But the time has come for the airing of grievances … and I got a lot of problems with all of you.

ONE:

MC5 shirtless

MC5, also known as T-Shirt Zero

For me, maybe the hardest thing to reconcile with that institution are the bands that get inducted because of how “important” or “influential” they are. It can become very hypocritical (and I admit, I love most of bands that qualify in this rant) to declare something “adored but never accepted by the masses.” The Sex Pistols had one album. One. Their entire existence is one album and a tour. They imploded within two years. So where is the MC5? They had THREE albums, they had the 1968 Democratic National Convention, and many knowledgeable people would say they’re amongst the godfathers of both punk AND metal.

Also, bands like the Velvet Underground and the Stooges are in, some might say because their frontmen (Lou Reed and Iggy Pop, respectively) became rock legends later down the road. But both of those bands, when they were actually happening, never sold any records and never had any hits. But everyone who did like them started their own bands (I know, this is not an original thought, but it’s true).

runaways group photoOK, so by that rationale, who fits the bill? The Runaways. No one, and I do mean NO ONE, bought their records (except for Japanese teenagers), but …  a frontwoman who went on to greater fame solo (Joan Jett)? Check. (Not to mention Lita Ford, often considered the first lady of heavy metal). How many all-girl rock bands formed in their wake? How many of the ‘90s riot grrrl bands cite them as primary influences? Plus, “Cherry Bomb” is more recognizable than any song the Stooges ever put out (I love the Stooges, by the way). And OK, “Cherry Bomb” is one song. But my two-word rebuttal: Percy Sledge.

There’s been a lot of talk about Joan Jett going in solo (or with the Blackhearts) and the other night – fronting a reunited version of Nirvana at both the ceremony and the soon-to-be-legendary secret show they played afterward at an underground Brooklyn metal club – did a TON to help her cause. But like Linda Ronstadt, Jett’s biggest songs are cover tunes. I’d still rather see her go in with the Runaways. It will never happen, though. They’ll forever be seen as a gimmick and I don’t think they can ever get out from under that. But they belong in the argument.

And while we’re talking about influences … with all the Seattle bands coming up for induction, Motorhead should be considered. Black Flag should be considered. The Melvins should absolutely be considered. Watch some documentaries and listen to the words coming from the musicians themselves: Who introduced Dave Grohl to Kurt Cobain and Krist Novoselic? The Melvins. Who invented that mud tone that became grunge? The Melvins. If some of these other bands get considered for trivial reasons, so should they. They’ve been around for over 30 years now. But will they get in? Absolutely not. I think the closest they’ll come is frontman Buzz Osbourne getting namedropped by Novoselic and drummer Dale Crover getting praised by Grohl during Nirvana’s induction (it must be noted that Crover played on enough songs that ended up on both Bleach and Incesticide to be considered one of the band’s pre-Grohl drummers, but he, like Chad Channing, gets left out in the cold. More on this later …)

go-go's on rolling stone coverTWO:

Women are shamefully underrepresented in the Hall. I was worried about a lot of the divas getting the shaft…that is, up until the induction of Donna Summer. Her induction opened the doors for Whitney Houston or Mariah Carey in a huge way (all three are ridiculously talented singers with mountains of No. 1 singles, but who write little and play nothing). But if those two DON’T get in, you can absolutely forget about the likes of, say, Britney Spears (hey, stop laughing…I’m just trying to think of big stars down the road). Will Mary J. Blige or Missy Elliott be there? Is Carly Simon worthy? Because she’s not in.

The Go-Go’s or the Bangles should get a fair look, but they won’t…either not enough big hits or they weren’t together long enough.

BenatarBut the Go-Go’s do have historical significance on their side—the first all-female band that wrote and performed their own material to have a No. 1 album. They deserve a shot, because without one, will other critically adored all-girl bands such as Sleater-Kinney have a chance?

And you know who should be in the talk, especially now that Ronstadt got in? Pat Benatar. People forget just how huge she was in the late ’70s and early ’80s. The hits, the massive exposure at the dawn of MTV, the multi-platinum records and Grammys…they speak for themselves.

THREE:

The bias against hard rock and metal drives me insane. Off the top of my head, the only bands identified as heavy rock or metal that are currently in are Black Sabbath, Van Halen, AC/DC, Metallica, Guns N’ Roses, and now Kiss. OK, maybe Aerosmith and Alice Cooper, too (sorry, I don’t count Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix or the Who).

Maybe I’m just annoyed that rap seems to get preferential treatment.­ To me growing up, rap and metal were truly kindred spirits—the extreme branches on the rock and roll tree, so much so that they merited their own specialty shows on MTV, metal being the extreme offshoot of rock, rap the extreme offshoot of R&B/soul. So why is one more important than the other? Look, I love Run-DMC, the Beastie Boys, and Public Enemy as much as the next guy. Love them. They absolutely deserve to be in. But why is it that the rap groups always get in on the first ballot, but a groundbreaking band like Sabbath—who invented an entire genre of music—had to wait 10 years? It’s disrespectful.

Paul Stanley really hit the nail on the head in his induction speech: fandom means nothing to these people. All that matters, it appears, is critical acclaim, something metal rarely gets.

The British godfathers of metal (Sabbath—in, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Motorhead) and the Big 4 of American thrash (Metallica—in , Slayer, Megadeth, Anthrax) deserve consideration. And I’ll say it again: Deep Purple on the outside looking in is a joke.

FOUR:

Speaking of Deep Purple, let’s pretend they get in next year. Who’s getting inducted? Will it only be the Mark II version of the band, the version behind “Smoke on the Water,” “Highway Star,” “Speed King,” Space Truckin’,” and “Woman From Tokyo”? (Seriously, how are the fuck are they NOT in already?) Because I think they’re up to at least Mark VIII or IX by now, right? That’s a lot of guys over 40+ years.

That seems to be the big controversy (and rightfully so). Who decides who’s getting in? Why did Parliament-Funkadelic get all 957 of its members inducted, but Kiss had to settle for the four original members, even though they had at least four other guys with decade-plus stints consisting of multiple gold albums and world tours? Both bands were garish theatrical groups on the Casablanca label in the ‘70s. Is it because Parliament got sampled on lots of g-funk rap albums in the ’90s? Who knows?

But there needs to be some consistency. Sammy Hagar gets inducted for his stint fronting Van Halen, but Ronnie James Dio can’t get the same for his time reinventing Black Sabbath? (I think this stinks of Sharon Osbourne, but that’s just a hunch.) Rob Trujillo (one album in a five-year stint at the time) gets to go in with Metallica, and 32-year-old Josh Klinghoffer, who had been in the band for about two-plus years and had played on exactly one album, gets to go in with the Red Hot Chili Peppers. But a guy like Gilby Clarke, who made significant contributions to Guns N’ Roses, gets left out? (After reading the Frantz blog, it’s much more clear: where the Talking Heads had Seymour Stein, Metallica and the Chili Peppers had Cliff Burnstein (he manages both AND sits on the nominating committee).

Chad Channing played drums on Nirvana’s debut album, as well as several other b-sides and live cuts. He did the early gigs and tours. He participated in the early sessions for Nevermind and wrote several drum parts that Dave Grohl willingly admitted that he just copied in the final product (kudos to Grohl for saying this during his actual Hall induction speech, by the way). Oh, and he actually IS on Nevermind, albeit in a minor role (and especially now that the early demo sessions recorded by Butch Vig have been released on the album’s anniversary deluxe edition). He didn’t get in. Yet every drummer who ever played with the Red Hot Chili Peppers got in (obviously, I think the Red Hot Chili Peppers broke the Hall of Fame). I can’t wait to see how they handle the Pearl Jam drummer situation. Jesus…

FIVE:

Finally a few passing thoughts: Woefully missing are the alt-rock and new wave bands of the early ’80s. To name but a few … The Smiths, The Cure, Depeche Mode, Joy Division/New Order, The Cars, Duran Duran, The Replacements, Sonic Youth, Husker Du. As for rap, I don’t really care…and I’ll tell you why: Eventually that’s the stuff that gonna take over this thing. Eminem. Kanye. Jay-Z. It’s coming. They’re the biggest rock stars of the post-Napster era when the record companies started losing a little bit of their influence (I mean, we’ve got a LONG time before the White Stripes and bands like Arcade Fire become eligible). With that in mind, just give me NWA, A Tribe Called Quest, Wu-Tang Clan, 2Pac, and Biggie. Those were the rappers and crews that shaped my era. After they get in, I don’t care.

As far as my best guess for the bands of my generation…I personally don’t think a band like, say, Motley Crue has a prayer. Even with solid membership, lots of legitimate hits, a strong touring history, and the greatest story ever told, I think they’re immune even if believers in poptimism gain more influence in the nominating committee.

motley crue all glammed out

A lot of girls from Chris’ hometown looked a lot like Vince Neil does in this photo.

But you know what…says who? Motley Crue doesn’t have a shot because Rolling Stone doesn’t like them? A band shouldn’t base their legacy solely on a handful of critics with too much influence and power telling them how awesome they were. Isn’t that kind of what killed Kurt Cobain? Pretty sure he hated what that did to his band. I’m not advocating their enshrinement, but one thing everybody should respect about a band like Motley Crue—even if you think their music is either awesome or shit—is that they have no fucks to give when it comes to what anyone says about them on a critical level. It hasn’t stopped them from their decades of sold-out shows and platinum records.

(I’m well aware that someone somewhere will say the same thing about Nickelback in 20 years, but that becomes a question of eras…you know what: I’ll deal with that when it happens …)

But a band from that era that should get considered is Def Leppard, the rare band from the ‘80s glam metal period that garnered critical acclaim on top of massive commercial success.

Nick Drake holding guitar

Nick Drake, true artist. Way more acclaim after death.

As for the ’90s, come on. Pearl Jam is a mortal lock (I can’t believe they haven’t had their eligibility period waved). Radiohead is a lock. Beck is a lock. Green Day is a lock (eligible next year, actually, and I’ll be stunned if they have to wait). I have a hunch Rage Against the Machine is a lock. Eventually, Nine Inch Nails, Jane’s Addiction, Alice in Chains, Soundgarden, and Smashing Pumpkins are all major contenders and all will be there over time. And I think Oasis has the most obvious shot of representing Britpop. And I keep reading about people saying bands like Blur and Pavement, for example, are shoo-ins, but I don’t know, I gotta see it first before I believe it.

And finally, my own personal snubs…well, now that Kiss is FINALLY in, I’m going with Deep Purple (too many anthems to ignore), Chicago (Jann Wenner reportedly is to them what Dave Marsh was to Kiss), Nick Drake (maybe the most perfect discography of all time) and the MC5 (seriously, the Stooges are in and they are NOT? Come on. “Kick Out The Jams” is bigger and certainly more iconic than ANYTHING the Stooges did. They are the first band associated with the sound that is considered punk rock) …

Sheesh, I feel like a battered wife after that. Why do you hate me, Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, when I want to love you so much?

Why Sam loves Kiss (a piece by Sam)

Editor’s note: Chris and Todd know this one guy named Sam who likes to talk about Music or Space Shuttle? type topics. Perhaps you’ve seen his comments under some of our posts (he’s “sambob25”). He wanted to write a couple of things for our blog. We agreed. Suddenly this love letter to face-painters appeared. We decided not to rescind access to our platform. We are nice.

OK, intro over. Please enjoy “Why I Love Kiss,” by Sam. Not Chris or Todd. 


Have you ever realized how much Kiss has in common with the Beatles?

beatles with kiss makeup

Don’t look at me like that.

Get it of your system. I can wait.

OK, once you’re done laughing, take a minute to think about it.

Both bands had four guys – two guitars, bass and drums. All four guys wrote and performed their own material within said structure. All four guys, at one point or another, were the lead singer.

(While it’s easy to remember that every Beatle has a big hit on their résumé, one might not realize that every member of Kiss sang at least one Top 20 Billboard hit. Gene Simmons had “Rock and Roll All Nite,” Paul Stanley had “I Was Made For Lovin’ You,” Ace Frehley  had “New York Groove,” and Peter Criss had “Hard Luck Woman” … and some other song that was the biggest hit the band ever had. More on that later.)

Every guy had his own distinct personality within the band …

One had the cute one. The shy one. The sincere one. The funny one.

One had the Demon. The Starchild. The Spaceman. The Catman.

The timelines of the original bands even kinda line up. Yes, they had been around for a couple years beforehand in Europe, but America was exposed to the Beatles when they touched down in February 1964 for their historic turn on The Ed Sullivan Show. They broke up in 1970. Kiss released their first album in February 1974 (with a pair of memorable coming-out appearances on Dick Clark’s In Concert and The Mike Douglas Show). The original band ended with Peter’s exit in 1980.

Both had a dominating pair of songwriters fronting the band (Lennon/McCartney and Paul & Gene). But they also had a third guy providing solid material that resulted in a few hits. And when they were finally left to their own devices and made solo albums, the best ones came from those guys – George Harrison with All Things Must Pass, and Ace’s 1978 disc while he was still in the band, which was the best-received and best-selling of the bunch and produced the most enduring songs.

Finally, the oft-maligned drummers that provided the quirky, off-the-beaten-path tunes. While Ringo Starr added oddball charm with tunes like “Yellow Submarine” and “Octopus’ Garden,” Peter Criss had “Beth,” the band’s first Top 10 hit which almost single-handedly catapulted its album, Destroyer, to platinum status.

A Hard Day’s Night …
Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Park …
OK, scratch that one.

And both bands, at one point or another, could claim they were the biggest band in the world. The Beatles literally, and Kiss somewhat literally but mostly hyperbolically.

Now I realize my MoSS? brethren are already gasping for air behind my back. But come on, give me a break … I’m not comparing the musical legacy of Kiss to the effing Beatles. I’m well aware that the entire Kiss catalog is full of songs about nothing more than partying, being famous, and hunting trim. You put Gene Simmons in the same room as the Beatles and I’m fairly certain it would resemble something like Salieri hearing Mozart for the first time (and Gene’s pretty much said as much himself). But I can’t think of two other bands that had so much in common from a marketing standpoint and in terms of the trajectory of the original band.

But I will say this much and I’ll say it without shame: Kiss is MY Beatles.

My mother was 13 when the Beatles played on Ed Sullivan … and I’m pretty sure her knowledge of pop culture doesn’t extend past that day. I mean, this is the woman who, when I was kid, actually believed Kiss stood for “Knights in Satan’s Service.” Yup, she was one of THOSE. She handed down some pearls of wisdom, too … well, actually it was some wonderful talk-show nonsense I’ll never forget:

“Do you know what those devil worshippers do? They take poop and, and … pee … and blood … and they mix it together and, and, and … they eat it.” (I think she caught that gem on 20/20 or something.)

Oh, and my favorite …

“I know what that song means. ‘Lick It Up’? Oh, you can’t pull one over on me.”

“Oh yeah, Mom? What does it mean?”

“Lick It Up? What do you think? Lick up the drugs.”

Classic stuff. Makes me a little misty, because a child never forgets the moment when they realize their parents don’t know EVERYTHING. I was 10. Sigh.

But let’s give Mom a little credit here, too.

In 1978, I was 5. I didn’t know music from anything. I only remember listening to Barry Manilow 8-tracks in the car before that. But then I remember the dudes at the lake resort we used to visit every summer in Minnesota blasting Kiss in the bait shop. Then I remember wanting a Gene Simmons doll for Christmas. My brother wanted an Ace Frehley doll.

But we were not made of money. Wasn’t gonna happen. Mom bought us Rock and Roll Over instead.

kiss in 1985

The devil incarnate

(I guess she hadn’t picked up on the whole devil worshipper thing yet … that didn’t come until after they’d taken the makeup off and they were about as threatening as the bunch of Golden Girls-lookalike drag queens that their ‘80s personas resembled. I told you she was a little slow on the uptake, pop-culturally.)

But I digress … I wore that record out. Literally. You should have seen how warped that thing was before it finally died.

And whether she knew it or not, buying me that record turned me into the music junkie that I became.

Who else sounded like Kiss? Oh, I see. Van Halen. Def Leppard. Quiet Riot. Night Ranger. Motley Crue.

Eh, over this stuff. I need more. Give me some AC/DC and Guns N’ Roses. Metallica. Some Iron Maiden. Some Slayer.

Oh, you like Kiss? You should check out who influenced THEM. That’s when Led Zeppelin entered my life. That’s right … after Kiss. BECAUSE of Kiss.

I need more. What’s this new stuff? Alice in Chains? Nirvana? Smashing Pumpkins? Soundgarden? Pearl Jam?

It all led to the here and now, hundreds of concerts and thousands of records, 8-tracks, cassettes, CDs, and MP3s later. All because I liked Kiss first.

Because of Kiss, I became enthralled with MTV when I was 9 years old. We got it the last day I was in third grade and was so happy to have Martha Quinn in my life. That summer, I swear to God, I watched it for eight hours every single day. I found all this stuff that I didn’t know was out there.

I fell in love with the Go-Go’s and the Pretenders.

I saw Duran Duran and thought they were the coolest chicks I’d ever seen. (I’m a good sport, leaving this in. —Chris)

Seeing the video for “Sunday Bloody Sunday” that was filmed in what looked like the side of a mountain.

I saw a video called “Let’s Go to Bed” by weirdos called The Cure. There were bands out there like THAT?

I watched a show called IRS: The Cutting Edge (i.e. the precursor show to 120 Minutes by more than a decade) and saw this band called R.E.M. sing “So. Central Rain.” It wasn’t my cup of tea (at the time), even though a college guy whom I idolized while helping out in the elementary school library that summer told me they were “it” (his opinion mattered because he was a Kiss fan when he was my age, you see). Again, I was just 10.

Oh, and let’s not forget Michael Jackson. And Prince.  And a girl named Madonna, writhing on the floor with her wedding dress coming up over her head during a live performance when I was 10 years old. Let’s just say I didn’t care much about G.I. Joes after that (my mom’s legendary response that night? Very succinct … “She’s naughty.”)

I got all of that from MTV. And despite all of that, the real reason I was actually watching it all day every day was for the outside chance I might finally catch “Lick It Up.” No lie.

I love Kiss. I have for as long as I can remember having conscious thoughts. Because of them, I love music. They were my gateway drug to everything cool. Because once I started spinning that one record on my tiny Fisher-Price record player as a 5-year-old, I went through a worm hole I never want to be rescued from.

That’s why Kiss matters.

Kiss HOF