\n<\/p>\n
Not a fan of big loud fun? Does overt capitalism turn you off? Don\u2019t get the understated poetry in lyrics about plaster-casting or putting a log in a fireplace?<\/p>\n
These are some basic reasons for not liking Kiss<\/a>.<\/p>\n A bazillion fans love the band\u2019s savvy songcraft, guitar simplexity, larger-than-life image, and pyro-punctuated live performances. But even the once \u201chottest band in the world\u201d can\u2019t please everyone.<\/p>\n Below is a list of 10 Kiss songs for people who don\u2019t like Kiss.<\/p>\n For this list, we eschewed extremely popular fist-pumping hits such as \u201cRock and Roll All Nite,\u201d \u201cDetroit Rock City,\u201d \u201cStrutter,\u201d \u201cLove Gun\u201d and \u201cLick It Up.”<\/p>\n Read More: The 7 Dumbest Kiss Lyrics<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n With an exception or few, we focused on currently lesser-known cuts from the band\u2019s studio albums. We also dipped into the four solo albums Kiss original members Paul Stanley<\/a>, Gene Simmons<\/a>, Ace Frehley<\/a> and Peter Criss<\/a>, released simultaneously in 1978 at the height of the band\u2019s fame.<\/p>\n Of course, this kind of list is highly subjective. It\u2019s the start of a conversation not the end:<\/p>\n \u201cHard Luck Woman\u201d<\/strong> With its raspy vocals, 12-string acoustic guitar, tender lyrics and melodic bass, \u201cHard Luck Woman\u201d is the best Rod Stewart<\/a> song Rod never did. Writing it, Stanley was inspired by early \u201870s Stewart hits like \u201cMaggie May.\u201d<\/p>\n Criss sang \u201cHard Luck Woman,\u201d bringing the soulful scratchy street-guy sound he gave piano-ballad smash \u201cBeth,\u201d on Kiss\u2019 other 1976 album Destroyer<\/em><\/a>. Those two tracks might be the most soulful things Kiss ever cut.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u201c2,000 Man\u201d<\/strong> A cover of a song from Their Satanic Majesties Request<\/em><\/a>, the oft-maligned psychedelic 1967 Rolling Stones<\/a> album. Kiss\u2019 version puts Frehley on the mic, his delivery adding punkish appeal as his guitar tales the track into metallic power-pop bliss. Having the now dearly departed Spaceman sing lyrics about planet pride and a random computer tryst was a masterstroke.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cSure Know Something\u201d<\/strong> A pop track with Stanley falsetto-ing like a Bee Gee in platform boots wasn\u2019t high on Kiss fans\u2019 want lists in the late \u201870s. But \u201cSure Know Something\u201d is a deft suave track. Simmons\u2019 reptilian bass line and a revved up chorus smuggle the band\u2019s signature rock sleaze.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cMr. Make Believe\u201d<\/strong> Of the band\u2019s original members, a Simmons lead vocal is the most difficult to excavate a conversation song for haters. His growling delivery and imposing over-the-top persona is central to the band\u2019s thing. Enter \u201cMr. Make Believe.\u201d A sweet strummer off his \u201978 solo album, it sounds like a forgotten Apple Records nugget.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n “Always Near You \/ Nowhere to Hide”<\/strong> See above.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cTears Are Falling\u201d<\/strong> The rare Kiss song that could be covered by female current pop superstars Taylor Swift or Billie Eilish. \u201cTears Are Falling\u201d was an MTV hit back then and boasts an eloquent solo by Bruce Kulick<\/a>, probably the most talented guitarist the band ever had, and big beats from late drum legend Eric Carr<\/a>. Put this track in a retro Stranger Things<\/em>-style Netflix show and it goes viral.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cJungle\u201d<\/strong> Alice in Stone Collectivegarden. Kiss\u2019 longest studio track — a single off a gravy-train-hopping grunge album initially shelved for the band\u2019s lucrative reunion tour with Frehley and Criss — holds up as well as many one-hit wonder \u201990s alt-rock radio acts. Hot guitar by Kulick and slinky grooves by latter day Kiss drummer Eric Singer<\/a> make it so.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cDark Light\u201d<\/strong> Even most diehard Kiss fans dislike the band\u2019s concept album. But on \u201cDark Light,\u201d a cowbell rocker with a Santana<\/a>-esque free-rock solo, Frehley proves again he\u2019s like Joe Walsh<\/a> is to the Eagles<\/a>, even if you don\u2019t dig the band you gotta love the lead guitar player.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cMainline\u201d<\/strong> Minneapolis underground rock heroes the Replacements<\/a> unironically covered \u201cBlack Diamond\u201d for their 1984 album Let It Be<\/a><\/em>. Their stagger swagger could\u2019ve also been applied to \u201cMainline,\u201d another Kiss classic featuring Criss\u2019 gritty vox.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cNew York Groove\u201d<\/strong> This is the Ace card. Play \u201cNew York Groove\u201d for anyone normally Kiss adverse \u2013 NPR tote bag owners, recreational outrage enthusiasts, etc. \u2013 and it\u2019ll win them over. Frehley drawls his vocals like a spangled Lou Reed<\/a> over a Bo Diddley at Studio 54 beat. The song was written by future Alanis Morrisette producer Glenn Ballard and originally recorded by glam rock band Hello. But when Frehley delivers lines about being in the city with a fistful of dollars, a wicked lady by his side and exiting into the night, you really feel it.<\/p>\n These are more than just concert souvenirs or stage documents from that awesome show you saw last summer.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n Gallery Credit: UCR Staff<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
From: Rock and Roll Over<\/a><\/em> (1976)<\/p>\n
From: Dynasty<\/a><\/em> (1979)<\/p>\n
From: Dynasty<\/em> (1979)<\/p>\n
From: Gene Simmons<\/a><\/em> (1978)<\/p>\n
From: Gene Simmons<\/em> (1978)<\/p>\n
From: Asylum<\/a><\/em> (1985)<\/p>\n
From: Carnival of Souls: The Final Sessions<\/em><\/a> (1977)<\/p>\n
From: Music from ‘The Elder’<\/em><\/a> (1981)<\/p>\n
From: Hotter than Hell<\/em><\/a> (1974)<\/p>\n
From: Ace Frehley<\/em><\/a> (1978)<\/p>\nTop 100 Live Albums<\/h2>\n