“As a wee youngin’ of around seven, I was obsessed with a particular vinyl record that happened to be lying around my aunt’s place.”
“This album evoked all manner of mystery and excitement in me: four demonic figures straight out of a twisted game of Dungeons and Dragons perched upon a dais while an assemblage of similarly bedecked succubi wrothe in rapt anticipation below. Who the fuck were these guys? What was the story behind this hellish scene? As it turns out, those guys were Kiss, and the album was 1978’s Love Gun. As for the story—that’s a bit more complicated. And though I couldn’t fully comprehend it at the time, there was quite a lot wrong with the picture I’d ended up painting for myself (and that Kiss had helped paint for me). Let’s have a little look.
First, I could never have predicted what I’d ultimately experience once finally listening to the record. Yep, that’s right. I hadn’t even heard the album. My parents deemed the music inappropriate for one of such a tender young age. Consequently, I conjured up auditory images which I perceived to match the album’s visuals. I figured Love Gun would sound something like Metallica’s “The Thing That Should Not Be” or perhaps Meshuggah’s “Break Those Bones Whose Sinews Gave It Motion.” How could it be anything other than the fiercest, heaviest, most relentless assault the album cover visually suggested?
A couple years later (evidently nine is the magical Kiss-listening age), with suspense thoroughly built, the needle finally made contact with Love Gun. My jaw dropped, but not in the way I’d hoped. What was this? Where was the vicious onslaught I’d been waiting for all these years? This wasn’t anything I hadn’t already heard on the radio (and very likely had, without realizing what it was). Staring back and forth from album cover to turntable, I just couldn’t get to grips with this stark juxtaposition. Thoroughly dejected, I headed out to the local comic book shop. Man, I should’ve seen this all coming.