Aerosmith & KISS will be performing at the Tweeter Center on September 26, 2003.
By Darryl Cater
Aerosmith and KISS deserve one another.
One can hardly think of a more appropriate pop metal double bill, and this metalhead dream
will come true on Sept. 26 at the Tweeter Center.
The two bands have taken turns vying for the world title as America's top metal-pop
phenomenon since 1973, when the pair launched their careers within a year of one another.
KISS reigned atop the 1970s -- a rich debut
decade for both bands -- but as times have changed Aerosmith has ascended to ever-higher
levels of mainstream popularity and KISS has resorted to more and more brazen degrees of
caricature in order to maintain its multimillion dollar profits. By last year, lead singer
Gene Simmons had resorted to marketing his high camp, clown-act obnoxiousness by provoking
a talk show duel on NPR, causing a politely combative Terry Gross to marvel, "You --
you're so into yourself! You're just so deep into yourself." Cheekily, Simmons came
close to admitting that KISS owes its success less to its guitar-driven hard rock tunes
than to its glammed-up
mercantilism. Some samples of the interview:
Simmons: Instead of being in a
rock and roll band -- Who the hell wants to do that? I don't -- I want to be in a rock and
roll brand. I want to be Disney without the overhead. And I'm on the way. ...
Terry Gross: Are you trying to say to me that all that matters to you is
money?
Gene Simmons: I will contend,
and you try to disprove it, that the most important thing as we know it on this planet, in
this plane, is, in fact, money ...
Terry Gross: Well, let's cut to the chase. How much -- how much money do
you have?
Gene Simmons: Gee, a lot more than NPR.
Terry Gross: Oh, I know ...
By the early 1990s, to be exact, the band's career record sales had already passed the 70
million mark. Many other metal bands scared mainstream households with devil-obsessed
imagery, but KISS broke through
the heavy metal ceiling to the mainstream (and almost--if not quite--to the pinnacle of
Billboard's Top 40) thanks to their discovery of a ridiculously deep market for kiddie
metal merch. They plastered their make-up-slathered faces all over pinball machines,
after-school cartoons, Halloween costumes and lunch boxes, all of which motored the sales
of a seemingly endless stream of records peaking with a series of four self-titled KISS
albums in one particularly oversaturated year. Simmons attempted the improbable stunt of
straddling the line between metal bad boy and parentally approvable icon, purporting to
have slept with 4,600 women but never to have experienced drunkenness or sampled drugs.
Aerosmith suffered ugly drug-induced crashes and burns, by contrast, and the band's
popularity began to fade in the early 1980s. Both bands, in fact, suffered dips in
credibility as the Reagan era began before achieving sizeable comebacks. By the end of the
decade, however, it was Aerosmith's turn to reign supreme. Lead singer Steve Tyler married
his freakishly high vocals to a sound that combined the sort of mass-accessible symphonic
rock of Jon Bon Jovi with the imprint of the darker, harder juvenilia of metal history.
Due perhaps to this pop sensibility, Aerosmith's resurgence outlasted the grunge-induced
death of the pop metal market in the early 1990s. Some of the biggest hits of the band's
career were scored within the last decade, as the band won its first Grammys and even
snagged an Oscar nomination by recording the pop-operatic Dianne Warren number "I
Don't Want To Miss a Thing."
KISS also scored some milestones in the 1990s, including a number one Mainstream Rock hit
called "Psycho Circus." But the band's success apparently still depends on a
sort of marketing gimmickry perhaps best described by that very song title.
As of the time this article was posted, some pavilion seats were still available for the
Friday night show at the Tweeter Center. Always check with the venue box office for current
ticket availability. For more information, please visit the Aerosmith and KISS websites.
Bill Mallonee -
Schubas, Sept. 28 (Tickets Available)*
Bill Mallonee, the heart of the now-defunct Vigilantes of Love, has been experimenting
with his retro-'60s melodic pop sensitive side recently. This comes as something of a
shock to fans who remember with fondness the nail-sharp, uncommonly literate, even
theological roots-rock of his earliest indie folk efforts like "Jugular," and
the harder, moodier rock records that followed. Known for Flannery O'Connor-like stories
of Southern spirituality, Mallonee's stylistic pallette has broadened to include brighter
shades of British jangle-pop and his cover art color palette has even been expanded to
include hot pink (on 2001's Summershine). All of this reflects a partial shift in
focus to lighter love lyrics with titles like "She's So Liquid" and "Summer
in Our Veins," along with a newly evidenced talent for upbeat pop melody. His first
solo albums mix up the instrumentation with mellotron, mini-Moog, analog synth, and
mandolin. All these new sounds are owed to the welcome return of multi-instrumentalist
Billy Holmes, whose driving mandolin was among the key charms of VoL's minor masterpiece Killing
Floor (produced by Peter Buck and Mark Heard). The new sound is best heard live, so
you have a prime opportunity Sept. 28 at Schuba's.
* Always check with the venue box office to
confirm current ticket availability. |