David Leaf - KISS: Behind the Mask - Official Authorized Biography

COPYRIGHT 2003 BY DAVID LEAF AND KEN SHARP, AND BY KISS CATALOG LTD.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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FIRST EBOOK EDITION: OCTOBER 2003

ISBN: 978-0-446-55350-6

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Contents

DAVID WOULD LIKE TO DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO A TRUE ROCK N ROLLER, MICHELE MYER, AND TO KEN SHARP, WITHOUT WHOM THIS BOOK WOULD STILL BE JUST AN UNPUBLISHED MANUSCRIPT.

KEN WOULD LIKE TO DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO HIS MOM FOR ALWAYS BELIEVING

GOOD. ARE THEY ALL GONE? JUST CHECKING TO MAKE SURE WE'VE GOTTEN RID OF THE NONBELIEVERS. THIS BOOK ISN'T FOR THEM.

So, as you clearly are a KISS fan, take this book home, put a CD (Dressed to Kill or Alive! or Destroyer or Love Gun pick your favorite) in your CD player, press Play, and sit back and read the most detailed, comprehensive biography ever written on your favorite band.

Now, as you're about to find out, this book is a collaboration presented in two parts, sort of like the DVD of a movie with lots of stuff added to the original release. Except this book never came out when it was supposed to back in 1980.

The narrative text that I wrote in 1979 (the first third of this book) was the result of KISS literally letting their hair down for what was supposed to be their authorized biographytheir personal story of how they became KISS. The rest of the book is drawn from Ken Sharp's one-of-a-kind compendium of information about their music and career, gathered from hundreds of exclusive interviews Ken has conducted over the years.

The truth is, this book is essentially in your hands because of the passion KISS inspires in Ken. I'll get to that story in a second, but first, let me tell you about my own close encounter with the band and what it meant to me.

While my time alone with KISS would ultimately be relatively brief, it was certainly memorable. At that timewhen I first met themI probably appeared to be yet another smart-ass New York rock writer. (I was/am a smart-ass, but despite having previously written biographies of Brian Wilson and the Bee Gees, I really never considered myself to be a rock writer.) Was I somebody who respected what they had accomplished? They needn't have been concerned. My background is in journalism, and I knew that theirs would be a great tale. I didn't have an agenda. As a reporter, I was ready to hear their stories; I was fascinated to learn, from their point-of-view, about KISS's birth and their journey to iconic status.

My journey to the center of America began with my flight from New York to meet the band in Des Moines, Iowa. At the time I remember thinking about the odd intersection of my trip's itinerary with the Pope's American tour. Here I was, writing a story about a group who were considered by fanatical critics to be Knights In Satan's Service, and it seemed that at just about every airport I flew into or out of (Chicago's O'Hare, Des Moines, et al.), my flight was delayed by the papal plane.

Now, in the midst of all of these papal goings on, when it came to KISS I must admit I was an agnostic. Didn't believe in 'em, but didn't think there was anything wrong with those who did. Actually, what I did know about KISS was mainly gleaned from one of my first jobs in Los Angeles: a short stint in the Casablanca Records mailroom, where I packed envelopes for the KISS Army. So I knew KISS had a large and loyal following, but other than that, when I headed out on the road to work with them on their authorized biography, I really didn't know what to expect. What I found were four very different men inside the very strange bubble of rock 'n' roll stardom.

It was the early fall of 1979 when I hit the road. Arriving in Des Moines, I took a taxi from the airport to the Holiday Inn, checked in, and went up to my room to wait for KISS to arrive so I could get to work. I learned very quickly that being on the road can be really boring. Believe me, there is nothing glamorous about waiting for a phone call from the road manager in a hotel room at two in the afternoon.

I hadn't been in my room for fifteen minutes before I began to feel the intense claustrophobia of being in the middle of nowhere. In that pre-cable universe, the TV in my room got only the three local channels and they were all tuned to the Pope saying mass. Considering the typical rock 'n' roll circus I was about to join, I probably should have been asking for absolution in advance. But listening to the mass, which was in Latin, really wasn't the kind of diversion I was looking for. And even though I had studied the language for three years in high school, I didn't remember much more than Veni, vidi, vici. Porto, portare, ad nauseam.

The walls of the Holiday Inn room closing in on me, I headed down to the lobby, hoping that the group had arrived so I could introduce myself to the road manager and meet the guys. Sitting in the entranceway with me were several KISS fans. They were hoping to get an autograph and a glimpse of Gene, Paul, Ace, and Peter without their makeup.

For the moment, I was happy to just observe. I watched as first Gene, then Paul, Ace, and Peter came in, greeted the fans, and signed as many albums as the fans had with them. I was curious and surprised. I had thought, incorrectly of course, that nobody knew what they looked like without their makeup, but these fans not only knew, but were thrilled to meet their heroes. As for KISS, sure, they looked and carried themselves like rock 'n' roll stars, but they clearly were also people who appreciated their fans.

Not too long after they checked in, I began doing interviews. As I explained to the band, my job was to be a recorderI would totally put aside my musical tastes, essentially stay out of the way and let KISS talk directly to their fans, and reveal from the band's point of view the tale of how these four boys from New York had created this incredible rock 'n' roll institution.

The guys had every reason to be wary of me. I anticipated that they might be tired of explaining themselves. That turned out to be another miscalculation on my part. They couldn't have been more open or more gracious. They had already had so much experience with outsiders that they had apparently learned to size people up instantly, to decide right away whether or not a newcomer could be trusted. With me, it was less of an issue because I was on their team. I had been sent to help them tell their story, not my version of their story. This book was to be in their words. But still, when you're telling people your dreams and secrets, at some point, you make the decision to trust them. And I can tell you that without hesitation, the four members of KISS really couldn't have been more open to my questions.

I think I interviewed Peter first. He breezily told me his New York story, although we were frequently interrupted by the baseball playoff game that was on in the background. His beautiful then-girlfriend and soon-to-be-wife (now his ex-wife) was from Southern California, and she was anxiously rooting the Angels on, hoping they would make their first World Series. (They finally did last year.)

After a couple of hours with Peter, it was on to Paul, who couldn't have been friendlier or more accommodating. I don't think I interviewed Gene until after the Des Moines show. I'm not sure. What I am sure of is that my favorite memory of Gene was the amazing stack of photo albums he showed me. In the midst of his first adult romance (with Cher), those photos were his constant companions on tour. That notorious three-foot-high collection of souvenirs was a rock 'n' roll fantasy anybody could relate to.

Having met the guys, it was time to head out to the arena. I went with them backstage, spent the pre-show meal hanging around observing the routine, and stayed with them until just before they headed off for makeup. While they prepared for the show, I wandered the floor of the arena, trying to get a sense of the excitement that was building. Finally, as the lights dimmed, the screams of delight (Our heroes are here! In Des Moines!) made it very clear that what was about to happen was vitally important for the ten thousand fans gathered here. A major life's moment.