rtbuck
Senior Member
Today marks the 32nd anniversary of my 1st concert. I still have the review from the newspaper so here it is from 1/25/78:
Fiery ‘Kiss’ Melts Ice Out of NHL Territory
By Dale Anderson
What a difference a night makes. A mere 24 hours earlier, it was sudden death overtime in Memorial Auditorium. Wednesday finds the NHL All-Stars gone with nary a trace, leaving only the Wales and Campbell signs on a scoreboard that’s now hung with extra speakers.
This time the attraction is fire, not ice. Kiss, the most popular rock band ever to paint its faces, packs more pyrotechnics into its act than anyone else around. The Aud is its 43rd straight sell-out.
Though no official figure is available, it’s quite possible that the announcement of a record crowd is correct. With standees packed shoulder to shoulder all the way from the fence in front of the stage to the back of the floor, they may have drawn close to 18,000.
Median age of this youthful crowd, which includes a fair number of parents with grade-schoolers, appears to be about 15 ½. Best situated are the ones who milled about on the steps of the building some two hours before the start of the show.
KISS MAKES IT worthwhile to be down front. The folks there are barraged with goodies. The band flings away guitar picks as if they were watermelon seeds.
They also toss towels, drumsticks, a fireman’s hat and even a teddy bear. There’s a shower of confetti. And finally, there’s singer Paul Stanley’s guitar, smashed to the stage Peter Townshend-style and lofted to some lucky fan crushed against the barrier.
Kiss must be credited for not repeating its “Alive II” album song for song, but it come close. Opening in a burst of flame and fireworks with “I Stole Your Love,” it reviews most of side one – King of the Night Time World, Ladies Room and Love Gun.
BASSIST GENE Simmons, swaggering in his tall beastie boots and forever flashing his long tongue, remains this reviewer’s favorite.
Simmons is the Darth Vader of rock ‘n’ roll. He repeats his flame-breathing act (as do a couple of kids in the crowd), but he doesn’t spit blood this time. He only covers his chest with it for the encore.
Otherwise, the show meets expectations, but fails to generate the awe that marked the group’s last visit to the Aud. Their mechanisms have become pretty much pro forma – the cordless instruments, the rising platforms, the fog, the many flashes of fire, the roll-out mountain of drums for Peter Criss’ solo.
No wonder guitarist Ace Frehley looks detached. It takes the show-closing teen anthem “Shout It Out Loud” to provoke some passion. The kids yell “I Want You” just as they do on the record. The blazing finale looks just like it does on the record jacket.
THE SHOCK SEEMS gone from Kiss. After four years of teen outrage and anarchy, they’ve become a conditioned response. A bigger sensation is what may have been a glimpse of the group without their makeup as they pass the backstage gate.
It happens just after the start of the Rockets, a creditable blues-rock opening group, some of whom used to be Mitch Ryder’s Detroit Wheels. In parade these sallow-faced, frizzy-haired, nondescript guys in expensive coats. Could this really be them?
Well, it could just as easily be someone else. Like the gray-haired man with the Kiss tour tag leading a party of four through the gate moments later.
“Are You Kiss?” someone asks.
“In a way,” they reply, “we are.”
Fiery ‘Kiss’ Melts Ice Out of NHL Territory
By Dale Anderson
What a difference a night makes. A mere 24 hours earlier, it was sudden death overtime in Memorial Auditorium. Wednesday finds the NHL All-Stars gone with nary a trace, leaving only the Wales and Campbell signs on a scoreboard that’s now hung with extra speakers.
This time the attraction is fire, not ice. Kiss, the most popular rock band ever to paint its faces, packs more pyrotechnics into its act than anyone else around. The Aud is its 43rd straight sell-out.
Though no official figure is available, it’s quite possible that the announcement of a record crowd is correct. With standees packed shoulder to shoulder all the way from the fence in front of the stage to the back of the floor, they may have drawn close to 18,000.
Median age of this youthful crowd, which includes a fair number of parents with grade-schoolers, appears to be about 15 ½. Best situated are the ones who milled about on the steps of the building some two hours before the start of the show.
KISS MAKES IT worthwhile to be down front. The folks there are barraged with goodies. The band flings away guitar picks as if they were watermelon seeds.
They also toss towels, drumsticks, a fireman’s hat and even a teddy bear. There’s a shower of confetti. And finally, there’s singer Paul Stanley’s guitar, smashed to the stage Peter Townshend-style and lofted to some lucky fan crushed against the barrier.
Kiss must be credited for not repeating its “Alive II” album song for song, but it come close. Opening in a burst of flame and fireworks with “I Stole Your Love,” it reviews most of side one – King of the Night Time World, Ladies Room and Love Gun.
BASSIST GENE Simmons, swaggering in his tall beastie boots and forever flashing his long tongue, remains this reviewer’s favorite.
Simmons is the Darth Vader of rock ‘n’ roll. He repeats his flame-breathing act (as do a couple of kids in the crowd), but he doesn’t spit blood this time. He only covers his chest with it for the encore.
Otherwise, the show meets expectations, but fails to generate the awe that marked the group’s last visit to the Aud. Their mechanisms have become pretty much pro forma – the cordless instruments, the rising platforms, the fog, the many flashes of fire, the roll-out mountain of drums for Peter Criss’ solo.
No wonder guitarist Ace Frehley looks detached. It takes the show-closing teen anthem “Shout It Out Loud” to provoke some passion. The kids yell “I Want You” just as they do on the record. The blazing finale looks just like it does on the record jacket.
THE SHOCK SEEMS gone from Kiss. After four years of teen outrage and anarchy, they’ve become a conditioned response. A bigger sensation is what may have been a glimpse of the group without their makeup as they pass the backstage gate.
It happens just after the start of the Rockets, a creditable blues-rock opening group, some of whom used to be Mitch Ryder’s Detroit Wheels. In parade these sallow-faced, frizzy-haired, nondescript guys in expensive coats. Could this really be them?
Well, it could just as easily be someone else. Like the gray-haired man with the Kiss tour tag leading a party of four through the gate moments later.
“Are You Kiss?” someone asks.
“In a way,” they reply, “we are.”
