The word at the bottom of the back of Peter's album
This album is dedicated to: Ace Frehley, Bill Aucoin, Sean Delaney & Stan Penridge
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The word at the bottom of the back of Peter's album
This album is dedicated to: Ace Frehley, Bill Aucoin, Sean Delaney & Stan Penridge
KIϟϟ: Peter Criss (1978)
Cover Painting by Eraldo Carugati
"To Ace, Paul & Gene and to Michael Benvenga"
Inner sleeve with pictures of the other Kiss member's solo albums, Peter Criss poster, credits insert, and an order form envelope.
Casablanca Records
original demo of what later became “beth.”
peter has been routinely, unfairly undersold for this contribution, with various band members claiming he didn’t have much to do with the song or that he only brought scraps that bob ezrin, etc., strung into “beth,” but the demo proves otherwise. the basic melody, a fair amount of the lyrics, and the main hook are already right there. this is the foundation for the crossover hit that put kiss in the mainstream, and their highest-charting single ever in the united states. “beth”’s impact on kiss’ success cannot, and should not, be understated.
Kiss_Baby Driver/Rock n Roll Over_1976
Ladies n’ Gentlemen
Peter Fuckin’ Criss
Peter Criss: Out Of Control (1980)
Album Cover By Todd Schorr
Casablanca Records
Bething
Is Bob Ezrin actually a Beatles fan? Silly question, I know, moreover, who among all those involved in Destroyer (1976) isn't?
But I'm only asking because of that album's lovely sugar-coated extravaganza (and draft horse) Beth and its hook, which doesn't really exist on the original demo Beck (1970), and which reminds me a little of the hookline from The Beatles song Something (1969). And also, because after all, Bob Ezrin was undoubtedly the one who gave this melodic skeleton of a demo all its organs, muscles, and nerves—in short, its entire life-giving system. (1)
Let's briefly recall the relevant parts of both songs, and those who wish to can also listen to the highlighted links below:
The Beatles: "I don't want to leave her now. You know I believe and how."
Kiss: "Oh, Beth, what can I do? …Beth, what can I do?"
Sounds a bit like it, don't you think? So, Beth's melody, and especially the approach to its doubling lines, seems pretty reminiscent of Something to me, but still manages to avoid sounding like a direct copy, and rather like an homage with its own demand for harmonic fulfillment of the open-ended Beatles melody. The continuation leads in an a lot more superficial emotional direction than the Beatles' far-reaching search for meaning.
… which, of course, could also be interpreted as an inch-thick layer of sugar-coated masculine ignorance, only disguised as romanticism, if one wanted to...
but who would want that?
Side Note:
(1) And in the middle of it all, still Peter's soul.
Beth (1976)
Something (1969)
Beck (1970)
Driven Out
I've noticed that there don't seem to be too many fans out there who care much about Rock and Roll Over's Baby Driver (1976).
Unfortunately, this song neither enjoys cult obscurity status nor can it be found on any imaginary set wishlist of Peter Criss die-hard fans. Not that there are no supporters of it at all, just that enthusiasm for it is particularly rare.
Nevertheless, if every leap year someone steps out of line and says something good about Baby Driver, then this is not entirely unjustified. For my part, I think there are very good reasons for preferring to belong to the latter group. I mean, how can you not love Peter's voice and the simplistic but energetic good humor that flows out it like the exhaust fumes from the muffler of the car he's singing in as it rattles past?
For Solo Ace's Wiped Out (1978), interestingly enough, there seems to be a very similar fan attitude, mine included once again, but with the one difference that Wiped Out moves less within high spirits or love, but rather a fascination with the extent to which basically good natured impulses can be capable of degenerating into opposite extremes. Which, I guess is generally considered cool in rock music, so the real rockers among the Kiss fans should really love Wiped Out.
By the way, if anyone is wondering what today is actually about, then I can only reply with joyful anticipation: About those singing-screeching double guitars that are so inherent in these two emotionally contrasting songs, what else?
And what feels like a pleasurable glide on positive waves from the last minute of Baby Driver and grooves into the sunset for all time with a high degree of elegant self-control, comes across more like a collapse on Wiped Out, both physically and mentally. Of course, not least in the context of its lyrical content and the radical changes in rhythm and mood, which only find their footing and groove in an extremely rocking but equally aggressively destructive riff, that in no small measure creates the vision in me of Ace shooting energy beams from his electric guitar all around him in uncontrolled bursts and as if possessed.
Or was it just my imagination running away with me once again? Because after all, I'm not even a rocker.
And context is everything. You know what I mean?
One of the links will activate rocking waves of harmony and a car-driving cat man, and the other those aforementioned frenetic energy death rays from our favorite space man:
Baby Driver (1976)
Wiped Out (1978)
Prisoner of Likes
Today we have a real curiosity. Something from Hot in the Shade (1989) and Peter Criss' '78 solo album. Who would have thought that? Ever.
But what is displayed here today I see more as a commonality of a rare stylistic device with an identical feel, but nonetheless a bit different attitude.
While Peter mimes the laid-back, smooth rocking sugar daddy not entirely in good faith, Gene delivers the super-cool rock n' roller, who looks a little extra cool with the way he delivers the bridge to the chorus, with his leather collar pinned up and his sunglasses seemingly attached with superglue, paying close attention to his own poses, while Peter seems to shake it off his sleeve with a wink.
Check out Prisoner of Love's bridge and That's the Kind of Sugar Papa Likes vocal refrain, it's as if they both came from one and the same song, whereby the best thing is, I don't find either of them bad in the slightest, quite the opposite.
I mean, Gene and a pussy, what could possibly go wrong?
That's the Kind of Sugar Papa Likes (1978)
Prisoner of Love (1989)