As the spotlights dim and the stage at Scotiabank Arena preps for a historic moment, fans across Canada are gearing up for an event laced with an emotional heaviness unique to those moments when legends decide to bow out. Tomorrow night, this sacred space will resonate with the electric hum of amps and the anthemic pulse of a generation, as we bid farewell to the gods of theatrical rock, KISS, on their last ever Canadian performance.
My journey with KISS is one etched into my very being, a journey that began innocently enough through my cousin Billy’s introduction to the bombastic energy of the ‘Dynasty’ album back in 1979. My senses were immediately hijacked by the band’s ostentatious glam and anthems—a lure so irresistible it prompted me to acquire ‘Unmasked’ the very day it was released in 1980, a tradition I’ve since held for all of their original albums (except for The Elder, which I didn’t know was released).
The ‘Creatures of the Night’ tour marked my first concert in January 1983, an experience soaked in youthful awe only a 14-year-old on the cusp of 15 could truly harbor. It was a gateway into a fandom so pervasive that by 1985, fueled by passion and a burgeoning community of like-minded aficionados, I founded the KISS Emergency Task Force, a fan collective rooted in pure adulation. In this club, my voice mingled with those of giants; I interviewed Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Ace Frehley, Eric Carr, amongst others—capturing candid revelations for radio specials that echoed through the halls of CHEZ 106 in Ottawa and on to stations like XL 103.7 in Brockville.
The bonds forged through this fan club were extraordinary; none so poignant as my friendship with Eric Carr. In shared moments and exclusive interviews, we uncovered layers of a man as enigmatic behind the drums as he was warm in spirit. Along with the fond memories and autographs, I have a cherished memento, a leather Beato glove that was used during the recording of the album Crazy Nights that Eric proudly handed over – maybe there’s some of that incredible drum DNA on it that we could harvest one day!
Recognition for my contributions to the KISS legend came in other tangible forms: a gold album award for ‘Dynasty’ from PolyGram Records Canada, a credit in the ‘Hot In The Shade’ liner notes, and a feature in the Gene Simmons book ‘The Ultimate KISS Fanzine Phenomenon 1976-2009.’
The fanfare didn’t stop there though. London beckoned with a KISS Convention, where behind-the-scenes conversations flourished, and our collective passion became a unifying chant. Covered by radio, newspaper and television, the convention certainly grabbed a spotlight for my co-organizer and friend Greg Ortbach and myself.
The famed coffee table sized book “KISStory,” is also another milestone. Gene approached me to provide all the Canadian news clips and advertisements that adorn the book. And if that wasn’t enough – in the comic section of that book, my story intersected with KISS’s in a unique way – I was featured as a comic book character interacting with Eric Carr (that story echoing an editorial piece I wrote for Rock Scene Magazine’s KISS Tours special publication in 1988). This portrayal wasn’t just an honor; it was a testament to my intertwined history with the band, a recognition of my role in the KISS narrative, no matter how small.
Even the press took note; the Ottawa Citizen spotlighted my sprawling KISS collection (there I was on the page of a prestigious newspaper with my tongue hanging out), and even YTV turned its lens on the extensive anthology of memorabilia I had curated with almost religious fervor.
That fervor, it seems, also led me to a rather unusual juncture with reality TV—once finding myself unwittingly auditioning for “Gene Simmons Family Jewels,” a moment so surreal it could only make sense in the whirlwind narrative of a true KISS disciple. I didn’t get the role, but it sure would have been fun. I could have been the dude who was running through Gene’s Whistler home naked in front of Shannon Tweed – not many fans could have made that claim!
My commitment to KISS is, in some ways, as wild as their own discography; having witnessed their evolution live, from the gritty energy of ‘Creatures of the Night’ to the upcoming spectacle of the ‘End of the Road’, across cities as widespread as Toronto and Vancouver, to Rochester and Abbotsford. I’ve immortalized them through my camera lens, capturing the essence of their live performances not once, but twice, with the upcoming show bookmarking a trilogy.
Each concert brings vivid memories—like standing in the photo pit in Vancouver when a sudden pyrotechnic bang where the massive KISS backdrop cascades down. The first ‘S’ landed with a soft slap atop my head—an anointing by silk and sound, an indelible moment of rock-n-roll grace. There was also the time I was able to peek through the cracks of the door of Maple Leaf Gardens as an unmasked KISS performed Creatures of the Night and Calling Dr. Love for their soundcheck.
Throughout my life, from the whisperings of school hallways filled with snickers at my tees, to the clucking disapproval from family who never quite understood the obsession—I stood firm. Decades might have rolled by, friends and family anticipated a fading interest, but here I stand, 44 years deep into devotion.
KISS, for me, was always more than just a band; they were a cultural phenomenon that resonated with my very being. Their music was the soundtrack to my life, yes, but their impact went far beyond their songs. KISS was a sensory experience, a fusion of sight, sound, and emotion that transformed each concert into an electrifying spectacle. The pyrotechnics, the elaborate costumes, and the iconic makeup weren’t just for show; they were expressions of an art form that blurred the lines between rock music and theatrical performance.
But beyond the makeup and the marketing, KISS represented a form of identity and rebellion that spoke to me. They stood as icons of individuality, encouraging self-expression in a way that was exhilarating. Embracing KISS was like donning an armor of flamboyance and audacity, a shield against the mundane. In a world where I was often searching for a place to belong, KISS and their ethos provided a sanctuary.
Their innovative approach to branding and audience engagement also deeply impressed me and also encouraged me to become an award-winning marketing professional. KISS was not just pioneering in their music but in how they connected with fans like me. The vast universe of KISS merchandise, comics, and movies was an extension of their creativity, offering myriad ways for me to engage with their artistry beyond the music.
As KISS takes its final bow on the Canadian stage, I find myself reflecting on how their influence has profoundly shaped my own creative journey. Today, as a publisher of magazines, a host of radio segments, and a maker of movies, I see the reflection of KISS’s multifaceted legacy in my own body of work. Their bold approach to not just music, but to an entire cultural experience, has been a guiding light in my endeavors.
Their ethos of pushing limits and redefining norms has inspired me to explore diverse mediums and to tell stories in bold, innovative ways. Just as KISS broke the mold in the music industry, I strive to bring a fresh perspective and a sense of adventure to the world of publishing and film. My journey through these varied avenues of expression is, in many ways, a homage to the band that taught me to embrace creativity without constraints.
Now, as the curtain falls on this era, I find myself grappling with a bittersweet mix of emotions. Saying goodbye to KISS is like turning the last page of a riveting novel that has kept me captivated for decades. Yet, even as I bid them farewell, I know that the ethos of KISS – to live loudly, unapologetically, and with a zest for life – will continue to resonate within me until I inevitably face my own end of the road.
