The lights go out. The crowd holds its breath in anticipation. I can feel my heartbeat in my ears. Curtain drops. Guitars wail. I’m overwhelmed.
I couldn’t have been more lukewarm answering “sure” when my boyfriend asked me to go to a KISS concert one Friday. We got free tickets from a family member who couldn’t go last minute and that’s apparently my favorite way to make plans. I mainly went to observe and to have an excuse to wear my black velvet miniskirt/dress combo somewhere that photos would be taken. *I also tested out a center part- I mean, I was really going for it.
Rock tees from the 80’s and painted faces filled the stadium. I watched in awe as people in the floor section came to life thinking one concertgoer was the Gene Simmons- the guy was even out front posing for photos and flicking his tongue at people before the concert- they were losing their shit.
I don’t remember how long the opening song lasted because a lot of them kind of blended together; most of their songs sounded the same to my dumb millennial ears, there I said it! As the old men romped around the stage in their Power-Ranger-meets-Raiders-fan-chic outfits I imagined how bummed Cat Face must have been when Star Eye and Metallic Star Eyes were like, “Yeah man, we’re seriously making face paint our thing and you’re stuck with that design forever because we’re already famous.”
I also gave them all nicknames, like Cat Face, Star Eye, Metallic Star Eyes & Gene Simmons. (Okay, so I didn’t give Gene a nickname because I actually knew his real name- in another life it would probably be something like Guy Who Cried His Mascara All Down His Face or Extreme Widows Peak & Tumblr-Girl Half Pony, but I digress.)
None of it was really my style but I think that’s mainly because I’m missing the white person gene that makes most of us lose our shit for never-ending guitar riffs. HOWEVER, I can respect the showmanship of four 65-year-old men performing on stage in giant platform heels and leather bodysuits for two hours/the past 44 years.
Un-Review Overall Rating: fun
People watching: gritty/nostalgic
Outfit: ‘girl who doesn’t listen to rock but is going to a rock concert and knows exactly what she wants to wear’
About The Author:
CeCe O’Neill has not yet refined her musical palate enough to write an actual review of the KISS concert but she had fun and now feels a deeper connection to her friends’ parents who were definitely groupies. She has also since switched back to her usual side part, because some things come and go but an inconveniently placed cowlick never does.