Cleveland is fortunate the Kiss army has not yet attacked the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame

(11th in a series on artists who should be in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, but are not)

By Phill Marder

My first glimpse of Kiss came on a TV special. I believe it was a concert on PBS, of all places, but it’s been so long ago I can’t remember. So if any of you can fill in that missing blank, please do.

Obviously, it fried my mind…in a positive way, though. I remember thinking that here, finally, was a band capable of reaching Beatlesque popularity. What a great show!

The concert featured most of the material on their debut album, which I purchased soon after and began wearing out immediately. From the opening riff of “Strutter” to the last pounding chord of a fading “Black Diamond” this wax was – and remains – one of my favorite albums, each cut a classic.

That Kiss never came close to duplicating that musical effort doesn’t matter. What the group did do has made it one of the most popular bands in the history of Rock & Roll. Popular with the masses, but, evidently, not with those who decide who should be in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. For Kiss has been all but ignored, though eligible since 1999.

The band did finally get nominated in 2009. Didn’t make it, but at least the nomination was there. Alas, they are missing from this year’s ballot.

An ad placed by Peter Criss in “Rolling Stone” captures just what makes Kiss so despicable to so many of the powers that be in the music industry. The ad read simply, “Drummer willing to do anything to make it.” Naturally, he got the job. For Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley, the group’s founders, never have been shy about their goal to do anything to make as much money as possible. At least they’re honest about it.

And money the group did make, selling millions of records, selling out concert after concert and even appearing in comic books, on lunch boxes, pinball machines, you name it. Their Kiss Army – the group’s fan club – quickly swelled to six figures, one of those being my wife, though I didn’t know her at the time. She was just another pre-teen with a dollar, and if it could make a dollar, Kiss was there. But – and it’s a big but, if you’ll pardon the expression – Kiss was capable of backing up everything it did with talent befitting a supergroup.

Though never much of a factor on the singles’ charts, Kiss did manage three major hits, all rather strange considering the source. “Beth,“ was the violin-soaked ballad sung by Criss, which reached No. 7 on the Hot 100 in 1976. It was the antithesis of their sound and image.Naturally, it became their biggest hit. Their only other Top 10 effort was “Forever,“ No. 8 in 1990. This was co-written by Paul Stanley and …Michael Bolton?

In 1979, the group just missed the top 10 with “I Was Made For Loving You,“ which stopped at No. 11. This effort saw Kiss doing what most everyone was at the time – dabbling in disco. The Stones hit with “Miss You,‘ the Kinks with “Superman” and ELO even released an album titled “Discovery,“ which, of course, can be read “Disco Very.“ That effort included several disco-flavored hits. So for those who refuse to count disco as what it is – a branch of Rock & Roll – consider the above. And also for those too young to have seen it, keep in mind Dick Clark‘s “American Bandstand” record review, one of “Bandstand’s” most popular segments which let the teens on the show rate new records heard for the first time. The most common explanation for a good rating, a response that became one of Rock & Roll’s earliest catch-phrases, was “It’s got a good beat and you can dance to it.“

A good beat and you can dance to it. Kids – that’s a BIG part of the definition of Rock & Roll. And it sounds just like a definition of disco.

Kiss did offer a steady stream of best-selling long players, each usually containing at least one or two instant classics. From the amazing debut all the way to last year’s “Sonic Boom,” Kiss has been a force on the album charts. In fact, “Sonic Boom” was their highest-charting effort, reaching No. 2 35 years after their breakthrough and 11 years after their No. 3 “Psycho Circus.” It upped the group’s total of top 10 LPs to eight with two stopping at No. 11.

Can you hear the “William Tell Overture” without thinking of the Lone Ranger? Even the biggest musical snob would be hard-pressed to hear someone say, “I Want to Rock & Roll All Nite” without thinking “and party every day.”

Intellectual, no. Rock & Roll, yup.

While the HOF has inducted almost every punk group that never sold 10 albums, it ignores many of the most successful bands in the history of recorded music. Of that rejected class, Kiss may be the most successful of all, at least with the public.

Outlandish, bombastic, original, intelligent, successful and … gasp … even talented, Kiss remains one of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame’s most notorious omissions.

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by Pat Prince

John Lydon is taking Public Image Ltd (PiL) on the road for the first time in many years. Although it has been eighteen years since PiL last toured America, John Lydon does not want to call it a “reunion” for the group. In Lydon’s point of view, PiL never broke up. The band is simply an “ongoing process.”

Strangely enough, on the eve of PiL’s tour, Malcolm McLaren, the Sex Pistols former manager, died of mesothelioma. Closely entwined to McLaren in rock history, Lydon singled McLaren out as a consummate entertainer who will be missed. In the spirit of McLaren, the show must go on and flourish.

PiL’s North American tour began at Coachella (Valley Music & Arts Festival) on April 16th. With Lu Edmonds on guitar, Bruce Smith on drums and Scott Firth on bass, Lydon is following up more than a month of American shows with a short European tour.

After touring, the band is looking to re-enter the studio for the first time since 1992′s “That What Is Not.” Without a record company’s support, however, financing PiL has been tricky. In 2008, the U.K. press labeled Lydon a sellout for being in Country Life Butter commercials. Country Life Butter is a very Anglo product, but it was the money from those commercials that helped finance PiL’s resurgence.

Goldmine spoke to Lydon just before PiL embarked on their North American tour. Many seem to be intimidated by Lydon’s presence and reputation. Turns out, Lydon is more human than many. Yes, he’s an awfully intense person but he may not be the bully you think he is.

Are you excited about this North American tour?
John Lydon: Yeah, but it makes me nervous, cause I always want to do the best I can. I’m a worrier by nature. And it’s such a financial burden. Lack of record company activity, per usual – it’s beginning to sound like a very old banjo I’m playing, but it would be nice if the label that apparently wants to make money from me would show some interest.

It’s a big way to kick off the tour, with Coachella.
Lydon: Yeah, but, I mean, there’s the point. There’s never been a problem between me and an audience, it’s just the record company in between, completely not understanding.

Yeah, well, the way the music industry is nowadays …
Lydon: Well, they can’t say I haven’t warned them. No, for thirty years I’ve been telling them they’re all a bunch of silly sausages and … they are. (laughs)

Back to Coachella … I’ve heard you didn’t like playing these festivals.
Lydon: Sometimes not. Sometimes they’re brilliant. It all depends on the nervous condition I’m in beforehand. (laughs) Because I am a human being.

I always loved the atmosphere of festivals. You know, the original festivals, as they used to be, some forty years ago, they were entirely different events. These days they seem very corporate led. And you can’t indeed use the toilet without a credit card. The only toilets you’ll find empty and clean are the Mens at the Lilith Festival. (laughs)

I didn’t know PiL played American Bandstand once. What was that like?
Lydon: Uh, hilarious. Because they expected us to mime. And there we are, we pull up, and we are expected to perform live and, ‘No, no, no, no.’ So, we mimed in the most inappropriate way possible.

That was a weird experience, I’m sure.
Lydon: No, we absolutely had fun, like not bothering with it at all. We just ran all over the studio. But, apparently, Dick Clark really liked it. So, he put us in his top 20 all-time performers. Even though we didn’t perform. (laughs) Well, we did, but not according to their plan.

Did you get to meet Dick Clark?
Lydon: Yeah.

How was he? Was he a good guy?
Lydon: Well, he picked a decent wig that night. He had worse because I’d seen a room full of them. Believe me, some of those were beavers. (laughs) At least, he’s a good-enough person. He gave us a chance. He knew, you know, what Mr. Rotten might be capable of. And I wasn’t there to wreck anything. But I have to do things my way, which I think is the proper way. And I can’t stand there, faking singing, it’s impossible to me. You know, throw the microphone away and get on with it.

So, it’s been eighteen years since you’ve last toured as PiL.
Lydon: It doesn’t seem like that, even though many adverse situations cropped up, hindering me from keeping PiL together. I had kept myself busy, and I really like the work I’ve been doing.

I always thought there was going to be a PiL reunion. Sometimes the press made it sound like ‘that’s it’ for PiL.
Lydon: They shouldn’t talk like that. They shouldn’t make assumptions that things broke up, fell apart, ‘that’s it,’ and reformed. It’s not like that. PiL is an ongoing process. Our biggest problem has always been finance. Without the record company’s support, it’s impossible to keep a band together. How you gonna finance it? You know, I’ve gone to Tampax. They’re not interested.

I think this was after the Sex Pistols reunion …
Lydon: No. I wouldn’t say ‘reunion’ there either.

Right. Or, as it was labeled.
Lydon: Yeah. The band (Sex Pistols) fell apart due to various, erroneous, managerial manipulations, and we decided to continue it in a proper true way. With a sense of respect towards each other.

Do you find you have to get into a different state of mind, emotionally, switching from the Sex Pistols to PiL?
Lydon: Yes. That’s not impossible for me. Although, yes, it is yin and yang, left hand and right hand, and two bands in your brain at the same time, but one led into the other. The Pistols was my beginnings in music and from that I’ve learned what I’m able to do what I do today. So I am completely — always — eternally grateful to that band. They mean the world to me. It’s truly an amazing inheritance.

I look forward to seeing PiL. I never got a chance to see PiL live, so…
Lydon: Oh, well, Wipee! Because, to my mind, this is the best PiL format ever. Ever. Finally being able to really zoom in to what matters. Egotists and the like, and the drug-takers, have all been well and truly eliminated. You know, the people that tend to drag you back in for selfish reasons, we no longer require them.

I’ve heard you say that one thing you desire now is a stable line-up.
Lydon: We’re almost psychically in-tune with each other. It’s quite brilliant the places we can go musically, live. And the absolute ability to be able to improvise and take the song into something completely, strangely different. Yet, always enjoyably return to the original refrain. The chance to be doing that live is an amazing thing, and you need people you can truly, truly trust to do that with. And people you generally like and love and respect. And that’s how it really is. And the new bass player, Scott, he’s molded into us so instantly well. He’s just a genuine person. He loves his family. Loves his kids. These are people I like. I don’t like tortured drug addicts.

Plus, you’ve been through all that.
Lydon: Yeah, and it’s appalling, It’s really just a cover-up for low self-esteem, all that self-indulgence. There’s nothing brave in being a junkie. And certainly nothing to be respected. It actually shows an enormous weakness of personalty. A cop out. I mean, for me, drugs are recreational. They are not a predominant factor. Just like a bottle of beer. I like it to be there when I want it.

Are you going to re-enter the studio?
Lydon: Yeah, yeah. That is the point of this. To raise enough money to be able to get ourselves into a recording situation. Luckily, there have been a few new offers from record labels, definitely more than interested. There are people who want to do a documentary on this, and that all helps. So I’ll get rid of those sad sack c***s that have been bothering me for thirty years. (laughs)

There was an unfortunate aspect that occurred in the British press last year, to the opening of this tour. One of them was this: Virgin decided to re-release “Metal Box” without any words to us, whatsoever. While we were planning this tour, they’d shown no interest in it at all. And then a certain journalist picked up on that and said that this tour was gonna be all about doing the “Metal Box.” And we would be calling it the Metal Box tour. All completely erroneous. And it caused all kinds of problems. And then having to discuss issues with former members. And having to put up with their egos and arrogance about it. And people telling me what’s what in PiL, it was unbearable.

The British press, they can be something else.
Lydon: If they could find a way to murder you, they’d happily go to it

They often paint you as this undesirable bully but your lyrics in PiL are anti-bully.
Lydon: Yeah, I know. ‘Take the shit outta your ears,’ you know.

And people who don’t know you … they expect you to be a certain way.
Lydon: And they don’t want to either. I mean, I moved Public Image to America very, very early on. Because we couldn’t get any venues in Britain or Europe. Nowhere would let us play. Couldn’t get record company interest, so I moved to the States. Well, the result of that was the British media deciding I was a sellout. And resented me for allegedly becoming an American — which on reading I thought ‘What a good idea!’ And here I am twenty-five years later, proud to be an American. But if that is to be the reason to hate me and still carry on that festering spite, you know … I’m quite happy.

Don’t get me wrong, the American press can be pretty bad, too.
Lydon: Oh, they can. But I’ve been always given a fairer crack of the whip here. And American audiences are far more open to something new and individual than you could ever achieve in England. It’s quite strange. You would think it would be the other way around. But because you’ve got this media spite — which, of course, is financed by record companies — it’s impossible to come out of it unscathed.

For my mind, too, the more and more energy they spend trying to wreck my life, and my career, and my good name, the more and more intriguing it becomes.

And they (the British press) dig up the most trivial stuff, whether it be this Country Life Butter thing … things they keep going on and on about.
Lydon: Yeah, and guess what? That money (from Country Life Butter) is what’s reformed PiL. For want of a better word, reformed. You know, where am I supposed to get my finances from? And, on top of that, I was promoting, absolutely British product, which seems very unfashionable for the socialists over there at the moment. It’s so ludicrous, and they don’t sense of irony and true anarchy in promoting such a politically incorrect product as butter by Johnny Rotten. You should be on the floor dying of laughter. That’s a coup d’état, surely.

That’s a great way to look at it. (laughs)
Lydon: That’s how I did. I jumped in to the prospect of that project because of those amazingly complicated situations involved in it. And, well, there you go. The utterly humorless decided to have another point of view on it. But at least they do have a point of view on me.

They do follow you quite often.
Lydon: Well, they should because I led the charge in music for so long.

Yeah, but I mean, for the wrong reasons sometimes.
Lydon: Well, that’s jealousy, you see. Shoot the messenger, I suppose, is the attitude. It’s such a shame that you have to explain everything. Sometimes people should shut up talking and start listening.

In American politics, it’s the same thing. As I’m sure you’ve witnessed …
Lydon: It’s hurts me a lot to see that. To see Republicans left with the only option they have, is to divide a nation. The bitterness and lying and hate, it’s so self-condemning.

It goes back to the bullying part.
Lydon: Yes, it does, but this reflects very poorly on a political party. All around the world are watching. And they are not impressed.

Are British politics as nasty?
Lydon: They can be witty. But there’s never a viciousness. And there’s never an implication of violence in the language. Alright, because that would be completely unacceptable. I’m just a lousy old pop star, me, apparently, but if I’m accused of inciting a riot, that’s a major thing for me. Yet, as a politician, that’s exactly what some of these fellas are up to. And I expect the same law for me as them. That’s why I live here. And if they want to take bullying out of schools they need to take it out of Congress first. (laughs)

I read a great quote where you said Miles Davis commented that you sang like he played the trumpet. To me, that is very accurate.
Lydon: I love “Bitches Brew,” it’s one of my favorite records and when he walked into the studio (for “Album”) and stood behind me and started blowing his trumpet it was extremely off-putting. It would be nice to have had him on that record but we were doing the same lines. And that’s when he said that. And I don’t analyze myself quite that way.

I regard myself as a folk musician. And I regard jazz as folk music, too, just as much as a ballad from 15th century Ireland. And what I mean by folk is that what I sing is from the heart and soul. I’m not trying to imitate any other genre or style of singing. I’m singing as I feel it. I’m trying to be as truthful to myself as I possibly can. And hopefully that communicates to others. Through quite a lot of pain. It doesn’t come ways but you have to find your own voice in the world like you have to find your own way. And it’s a shame that music has that potential but so many bands clutter it up, with inadequate copyist versions of things. I’ve always hated genre hoppers. Ones that revise something from the past, it’s all so easily set for them. They grab the uniform and the clothes of that period and they think that will do it. And it’s not right. Each generation has to represent itself. And each individual has to completely represent him or her self.

The question is, is originality dead in rock and roll?
Lydon: No, not at all. There’s just an awful lot of the other stuff, which I suppose there always will be. Not everyone’s cut out to do what I do. I mean, I’d like to paint but I know I’m nowhere near as good enough. That’s not my true form of expression.

Speaking of  “Album,” there were a lot interesting guest appearances on there. The most interesting one was Steve Vai.
Lydon: It wasn’t so much guest appearances as people who wanted to work with me. And I thought it was a most excellent record. Love it to death. And I always wanted the song “Rise” to be monumental because that’s how I wrote it and felt it, and I think we achieved that.

I was just going to bring up that song — and it’s interesting what you said before about folk music and it’s meaning. That song and it’s phrase “anger is an energy” … you sang it like a mantra. That statement has a sort of philosophical beauty to it. When you think about anger you can often think about violence but this expressed something different and maybe you want to elaborate on that?
Lydon: Well, that’s definitely giving a nod and a wink to my Pistols days which far-too-easily misinterpreted punk into being a violent statement. Which it never was. Not for me. Many of the punk wannabe bands that followed on after, quickly went for the easy option of violence and negative imagery and, you know, back to the silly cliches of skulls and crossbones. And that’s never what the Pistols were. And, yes, “Rise” is a true folk song. And deeply felt, that I do not like to see people punished or tortured or locked up.

Do you still listen to the old punk — the ’70s punk?
Lydon: Begrudgingly, from time to time, yes, of course. There were some stunning bands that came out. It was a wonderful time. We gave inspiration to so many people to just do it yourself. Unfortunately, a lot of the bands tended to narrow it down to a studded leather jacket and spiky hair. And that became a cliche.

I recently saw the Joe Strummer documentary, “The Future is Unwritten.” That was a great slice of that time. I don’t know if you had a chance to see it?
Lydon: Yeah, what I didn’t like about it was that it came across as slightly dirty. I got the vibe off it that those type of people didn’t wash much. (laughs) And being grimy for the sake of it, like that mattered. In Pistols, or me in PiL, the image is transient. It doesn’t matter what I’m wearing. And I have the freedom to wear what ever style of clothing when and where I want to.

I can see the movie coming off that way, with the squatting and all …
Lydon: Yeah, so for me, a trifle false. Because Joe Strummer came from, like, wealthy parents. So don’t be playing my working class roots on me like that. I truly do come from that. And it bugs me when they’re trying to use that as some kind of edge to their career. And it became appalling with Joe. And God bless him, he’s dead, and I never speak ill of the dead. But to be running around screaming ‘class war’ and ‘kill the rich,’ while living in one of the wealthiest areas of London, struck me as a little odd. You know, and bragging about taking the bus home. Well, ‘that’s fine, Joe, but the eight million pounds mansion you live in. (laughs) You know, get a cab. Employ someone. Put some money back into the system.’

I just have that common sense approach to life.

Looking back, what’s your favorite PiL moment?
Lydon: There are so many but probably the best moment is yet to come. I’m not being coy there. I actually feel that. And I genuinely feel fifty years young and I can’t wait for the next. I’ve always said this but one of the most foolish lines in rock written was by Pete Townshend, that ‘I hope I die before I get old.’ In many ways, that line helped me, when I was very, very young. I thought that was the most foolish thing. And it’s proved to be true. Because for me, every day I learn something new. And I feel a better person for it.

Townshend was, however, one of the first rock musicians to actually say something.
Lydon: No, I’m in full agreement. I get on with Pete extremely well. I mean, he writes these things so that they can be debated, so I’m not pulling issues with him. It’s a good bowl of contention we have. In the most joyous way. Believe me, there’s been much I’ve said and done to annoy him. (laughs)

Well, there still is a lot of time left.
Lydon: Yeah, there is. All this, you have to do it by twenty one, is such a pile of nonsense. At twenty one, I now know looking back, there were things that I didn’t know then that I most definitely could have made use of. But I think the point being, at twenty one, your brain is not developed enough to be that smart.

Not enough experience.
Lydon: Not enough experience. To ignore experience and despise old age is the most ridiculous thing that I recommend every teenager do. Because without doing that you won’t fully be able to grasp the concept at a later age. And what it does, is it brings you humiliation. And we all need a little bit of humility every now and again. And that’s what I do in songs, really. It’s all self-analytical, a huge bunch of the time. And very self-effacing. And that can be very vital. It’s kind of a cleansing of the head. You have to be able to look at yourself accurately and see what is going wrong. It’s enormously painful but the rewards, coming out the other side, knowing you can be better, it’s infinite. I’m far from a perfect person, but I’m damn well gonna give it a good go.

When it’s all said in done, would you be comfortable being known in the mainstream as the singer of the Sex Pistols?
Lydon: Oh, that’s not my ambition. No. I’m not looking for a chair position and I certainly don’t want no Grammy. Or the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, thank you. I think those institutions are negligent towards music. Well, listen, I come from a band that is infamous. I mean right from the outset. Once you realize early on in your youth that fame is a fickle companion, you’re a lot better off for the rest of your life. So I’m in no need to strive that or crave indulgence from audiences. That’s not what I do this for.

You never know. PiL might be inducted into the Hall of Fame one day.
Well then, that Rock and Roll Hall place doesn’t really learn, does it?

As one of the first crossover R&B-pop rock ’n’ roll hits, “Get A Job” sold more than a million copies in its first three weeks, earning the Philadelphia-based Silhouettes a gold record.

The nucleus of the original group was formed in a South Street pool hall in 1951 when Virginia-born bass singer Raymond Edwards and baritone Earl Beal formed The Balladeers, a spiritual group, with Clarence Basil and Joe Miller. In 1954, Basil left and was replaced with William Horton, who had begun singing gospel in his hometown of Hickory, N.C., before moving to Philadelphia in the hope of making a record.

Miller soon left, and the newly named Gospel Tornadoes underwent several personnel changes until floating tenor James Jenkins arrived in 1955. Jenkins had previously toured the United States and Canada, singing at carnivals, state fairs and clubs with The Parakeets, a pop-oriented group that included tenor Richard “Rick” Lewis and bass Andrew Jones. By late 1955, Lewis was serving as road manager for The Turbans with Jones singing bass. Returning home in August 1956, Lewis learned of a death in his family, which prevented him from returning to the road. Jenkins and Lewis then, in effect, traded places. Singing in churches, The Gospel Tornadoes found it hard to earn a living, discovering little money left after the pastor, deacons and ushers finished collecting their share from the offering plate.

Lewis subsequently encouraged a switch to rock ’n’ roll. As The Thunderbirds, they sang songs like “Love Me Tender” and “Cool Water” at local clubs, bars, cabarets and in the streets. During the summer of 1957, Robert Williams, a stagehand at Philadelphia’s Uptown Theater, arranged an audition for them with WHAT disc jockey Kae Williams, who had managed Lee Andrews and The Hearts and was attempting to get his own label started. Williams liked The Thunderbirds and their original ballad, “I Am Lonely.” He agreed to record and manage them.

In October, Williams brought the group into the studio at WIP to record “I Am Lonely” and “Get A Job” with a band including veteran jazz drummer James “Coatsville” Harris, pianist Orlando “Slim” Howard and tenor saxophonist Rollie McGill. “When I was in the service in the early ’50s,” Lewis recalled, “and came home and didn’t go to work, my mother said, ‘Get a job’, and basically that’s where the song came from.”

Although arranger Howard Biggs is often credited with creating the “dip-dip-dip-dip-boom” and “sha-na-na-na” hooks, they was actually conceived by the quartet.

“When we auditioned ‘Get A Job’ for Kae, the arrangement was as it is on the record,” clarified Lewis. “Biggs did the charts for the session based on our arrangement. He tried to replace our opening with a musical intro. It was scrapped because it didn’t work.”

About this time, The Thunderbirds learned their moniker was already taken.  Beal suggested a new name from The Rays’ current hit, “Silhouettes.” “Get A Job” got immediate attention, and Williams quickly realized he could not meet the demand. A national distribution deal was arranged, and the record was released by Ember in December.

A multitude of concert and television appearances followed. On Feb. 3, 1958, the record spent the first of six weeks at #1 on the R&B chart. By Feb. 24, it was #1 on the pop list. All told, “Get A Job” spent 11 weeks on the R&B chart and 13 on the pop chart. The Silhouettes made frequent appearances on “American Bandstand” and were booked on Irv Feld’s “Biggest Show of Stars” tour.