#mitch weissman

[twixnmix]

Michael Jackson with Steven Tyler, Mitch Weissman, Andy Warhol, Steve Rubell, and Dory Hamilton at the Beatlemania party at Studio 54 on June 9, 1977.

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Sleeping Well

Here, for a change, we have a wonderfully simple matter, without any great complications, with very little text, no metaphors or other loquacious frills.

Because today we're not dealing with small details like ripped and chopped riffs, melodies or even bridges, but with an entire song. Neither Paul nor Gene, but in this case Mitch Weissman himself (1), once even admitted this, sometime and somewhere, don't ask me, because I'm just parroting it.

But to smuggle in an at least reasonably apt comparison, the kinship between today's While the City Sleeps (1984) and Free's Wishing Well (1975) (2) could probably best be compared with that of Hotter Than Hell (1974) and All Right Now (1975), also by Free. What a surprise.

Everything's kinda similar and yet kinda different, to pass as self-standing enough not to be sued for it. We've performed this tango many times before, so maybe I'm just running out of figurative comparisons.

Anyway, thank you Mr. Weissman for your kind cooperation and making my work easier, I appreciate it.

Side Note:

(1) The co-author of this cheerful song, or rather the sole writer of the music, Mr. Hollywood-Gene only wrote the lyrics as far as I can tell.

(2) If you're not above a little commentary about a not entirely unjustified parallel to Ace's Rocket Ride (1977) and While the City Sleeps intro and main riff, you're welcome to click on exactly this link.

Wishing Well (1972)

While the City Sleeps (1984)

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All-Time You

Eddie Van Halen supposedly wanted to join Kiss at some point because he was fed up with his own band, or something like that.

At least according to Gene Simmons. And as we all are aware, when it comes to our favorite cookie loving demon, such a statements should always be taken with a grain of salt.

But you know how every now and then this story pops up anyway, and that's pretty much the basic tenor that has been served up in beautifully pre-chewed small bites by lazy online rock journalists for years, which had its origin in Gene's autobiography, if I'm not completely mistaken (1).

However, personally I'm just fascinated by this totally cracked thought process of what would have happened if Eddie had actually become the lead guitarist for Kiss in the early 80s. It would be unthinkable without going completely crazy, wouldn't it?

But what I actually mean by this is, would Paul have advised him to listen to more Eric Clapton for the Animalize (1984) recordings...

... or made him play a Led Zeppelin guitar solo from 1969 (2) more or less faithfully?

Side Note:

(1) That was the book with that brownies anecdote, wasn't it? It's been a whole while since I read that one.

(2) Who is surprised that the second half of Good Times, Bad Times' (1969) solo has found its way onto another Animalize track? And yes, I will definitely tell you more about it, sooner or later.

The solos are highlighted:

Get All You Can Take (1984)

Good Times Bad Times (1969)

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Ways to Get You Long Faces

When Monster (2012) was released I listened to it quite often with pleasure. I mean, it was the new Kiss album, and it wasn't a bad one, on the contrary (1).

The only difficulty for me was that I quickly became saturated with it and unfortunately lost interest in it after a relatively short period of time. As a result, one or the other stereotypical thought process about Monster stubbornly stuck with me. Not that these turned out to be significantly wrong over the years, but rather less serious or off-putting than I unconsciously stylized into a self-perpetuating prejudice during my self-prescribed Monster hiatus.

And no, I'm not talking about the production, at least not in terms of the sound and the heavily criticized sonics, but the arrangements and the riffs. It was all just too Led Zeppelin-heavy - but in a not very beneficial way (2).

For me, more than half of the album sounded the same riff-wise. Like that rearing little bass line from Hotter Than Hell (1974) that I occasionally cite, which follows Paul's terrific "You Know She's Gonna Leave You Well Dooone", and which Gene also recycled for Russian Roulette on Sonic Boom (2009). As a small catchy element, it works quite well for me, song structure-forming for half an album less so.

Or better, that's how I had memorized it, looking at the whole album. And at a distance.

But of course I don't do things like that anymore, because here and now I look at things from every conceivable angle and, above all, point-blank (3). And I can only say that every single song on Monster is great and rich in its own right, which is to say that Monster, If you take each song on its own, of course contains everything that should make a Kiss fan's heart beat faster (and a little more).

So, because everything is not exactly little, let's devote todays' last few lines at least to Long Way Down and its riff echoes coming directly from Animalize (1984) and Lick It Up (1983). And to be more specifically, from Get All You Can Take and Dance All Over Your Face.

I'm talking about the verse riff after Long Way Down's descending and ascending intro, which is certainly not unlike a memorable part of the intro and main riff from Get All You Can Take, behind which, of course, there is no attempt to hide a man-sized reference to Lep Zep. And this riff expands in the bridge to the verse into something that at least gives the impression of being a sonic reflection to the main riff of Dance All Over Your Face. Not necessarily something you would have expected, in my eyes.

Sometimes, I guess, also noisy waters run deep (4).

Side Notes:

(1) C'mon, it's better than Hot in the Shade (1989), and even that one's not exactly unloved.

(2) I'm willing to bet that some of the songs on Monster sound better on acoustic guitar than on the album.

(3) After all, we exist the entirety of our existence in the here and now, don't we?

(4) At least relatively.

Addendum: Of course I know that the Get All You Can Take's riff mentioned here has its origin in Led Zeppelin's What Is And What Should Never Be and Travelling Riverside Blues, did you? So don't be surprised about the Led Zep link below.

Only the Led Zep link is highlighted by the way. I wanted to save myself an extra cramp today:

Long Way Down (2012)

Get All You Can Take (1984)

Dance All Over Your Face (1983)

What Is And What Should Never Be (1969)

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Free the Knight

What does Mitch Weissman (1) actually have to do with Iron Maiden? I mean, one reads more and more about this guy here lately, doesn't one?

Not that he has written that many songs with Gene and/or Paul, but just for the simple reason that these few songs have a not inconsiderable crossover with certain others. Kinda like a billard ball on a full table in play that sooner or later inevitably collides with one or the other of his multi-colored kinds.

Moreover this should be at least the second or even the third entry for today's Thief in the Night (1987) alone, and I can't say for sure how many more of those might spontaneously turn up.

And that should pretty much hit the nail on the head, because once you look through the peephole of Thief in the Night's front door, you can't help but notice that the merry bunch of Iron Maiden are already waiting there with big and broad smiles on their faces, presumably guided by the noble sentiment of showing their appreciation for one of their early riffs getting the accolade of being promoted to a real Kiss song.

Not from King Gene himself this time, of course, but representatively from the noble squire of the day… Mitch Weissman (2).

Needless to say we're talking about nothing less than Running Free (1980) (3) from Iron Maiden's Di'Anno-esque debut album. And yes, its similarity to the main and chorus riff of Gene's Thief in the Night is indeed, despite all the rhythmic and elaborated differences, almost phenomenally striking.

And I have to frankly admit that I didn't see this one exactly coming because, with the exception of a handful of their classics, I'm completely unfamiliar with Iron Maiden's catalog, which I'm sure could be due, perhaps even to a serious degree, to Bruce Dickinson's vocal performances.

But, after many and long years of longing, I've also managed to find ways and means of even dealing with Paul Stanley's Cheese Drama Voice (4), only in a somewhat dignified manner...

... and, who knows, maybe I can pull off the same trick with Bruce Dickinson's British knightly pathos, always a little too dynamic for my taste, always ready for a duel with a dragon or similar supernatural critter, a sword always at hand that at least matches the sharpness of his quick tongue.

Then again, Dickinson didn't sing at all on Iron Maiden's first album, did he? There you have it again, I have no bloody idea about Maiden.

Woe to you, oh earth and sea, just listen to the darn thing.

Side Note:

(1) You know, that Beatles musical guy who also sang background vocals on Gene's 78's solo album.

(2) I think with the Simmons/Weissman compostions it's a safe bet to say that the musical parts are largely Weissman's doing.

(3) Iron Maiden must certainly have played the song on their joint tour with Kiss in 1980, see Mötley Crüe's Life Wire.

(4) My wonderful little 5-part column about the expansion of Paul's vocal arts in the early to mid-80s.

Thief in the Night (1987)

Running Free (1980)

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Get All Travelling Riverside Blues You Can Take

What must Paul have been thinking when he wrote “Get All You Can Take”? "If I'm going to steal, I might as well do it properly... and full throttle!"

I think it can only have been that, because Paul provided the steam and necessary power himself this time, and the result would bring tears of pride to the eyes of any qualified mechanical engineer.

The motif he has appropriated this time comes from Travelling Riverside Blues (1969) by good ol' Led Zep (how could it be otherwise), which itself is a freely interpreted cover version of Robert Johnson's Travelling Riverside Blues, which was released in 1961 but recorded in 1937.

The Led Zeppelin riff version is a kind of a slide guitar wave that builds up in wonderfully relaxed intervals, which each time anew, quite naturally, like warm summer rainwater that cleverly runs off through half a dozen gutters, only to lose itself again in pleasurably thick drops of colorful sound in the ground.

In the Kiss version, a very similar sequence of movement takes place, only in chrome-plated and machine-reinforced form.

The only difference in its structure is that the tension that builds up in it does not dissipate, but instead pumps its energy into Paul's vocals, oscillating up and down within this perfectly lubricated hydraulic construction, which he undoubtedly needs to tear our ears apart in the following verses with his infamous balls-in-the-zipper voice of that period.

So good that it hurts, if you know what I mean.

Wink emoji.

Highlighted links should be as guaranteed here as klassik Paul holding his chest hair unasked up to the next camera:

Get All You Can Take (1984)

Travelling Riverside Blues (1969)

Travelling Riverside Blues (1937/1961)

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All Day On You

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the first half of the 1980s, the period in which enthusiasts of our favorite band were still generously blessed with albums such as Lick It Up (1983) and Animalize (1984)... and what should hopefully go without saying, also with the usual recycling of musical material.

The corresponding trophy for the latter in particular goes today to Mr. Paul Stanley for the breaks of his captivating Led Zeppelin homage Get All You Can Take, which was more or less… inspired by none other than Mr. Gene Simmons' & Il signor Vince Vincent's And On the 8th Day.

Anyone surprised?

However, these two middle sections may be slightly different in terms of rhythm, but otherwise they are virtually indistinguishable, and form the solid foundation for the the main sensations, namely the guitar solos.

Which in And On the 8th Day (1983) somewhat sounds like a small horse that has been reined in a little too hard and is bucking rebelliously to express its resentment, and in Get All You Can Take (1984) more like one of those cool motorcycles from Tron (1982) that comes whizzing in from far away and then takes off and pierces like a needle through a wormhole and enters other spheres, leaving behind two fine, long sparkles.

Even though this one might seem just like a minor issue, every little bit helps, and I'm grateful for pretty much anything that comes my way. You know me. Probably exact the mindset Paul must have had back then.

I'm telling you, gratitude is everything.

The highlighted links start in the mid-part sections, of course. Take them or just dance to them:

And On the 8th Day (1983)

Get All You Can Take (1984)

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Murder Sex

*Twilight Zone theme plays in the background

I think I've finally arrived in the parallel universe or even the multiverse department as of today at the latest, namely in the one in which Ian Dury was inspired by Aerosmith's Get the Lead Out (1976) instead of Gene Simmons (1) to create a nice flippant riff for a lovely supple song.

And all those who didn't miss my last entry on Murder in High Heels (1984) should now know exactly what I'm talking about.

I recommend everyone else to click on every link you can find:

(1) Or Mitch Weissman.

Murder in High Heels (1984)

Sex and Drugs and Rock & Roll (1977)