The Soundtrack of Life That Comes After Death

Every now and then, something shakes loose a piece of your musical DNA that’s been tucked away for years. For me, that happened yesterday when I heard the news of Ace Frehley’s passing. Without thinking, I went straight back to KISS.

I hadn’t listened to them in years. But once I did, I couldn’t stop. Every riff, every bombastic drum fill, every one of Paul’s between song yelps came flooding back. I still knew all the words. Not just the hits, but the deep cuts too. And on the live stuff, I even caught myself anticipating the non musical portions. A few little crowd interactions, the chaos of the pyros, the way the audience noise became another instrument.

There’s a comfort in that kind of muscle memory. It’s like flipping through old photos. It reminds you where you were when music first started to matter. For me, those KISS records were among the first sparks that made me fall in love with the idea that a song could be bigger than the room you were in.

Special shoutout to all three Alive records. And while we’re at it, let’s give flowers to the Unplugged album. Underrated, raw, and maybe the most honest KISS ever sounded. No smoke, no blood, just songs standing tall on their own. Kulick and Singer mingling with Ace and Peter.

And it’s not just the music. It’s the stories. Me going to see them with my buddies in the 90s and a group text exploding with people you haven’t talked to in ages. All recounting that KISS show like it was yesterday.

It’s finding the old Pantera tour videos on YouTube where Dime loved Ace so much he made an Ace costume out of Coors Light boxes and performed “Cold Gin”. It’s everything about the music and the time you first lived through it. It comes rushing back.

What’s funny is how we all do this. Some artist, some album, some moment reappears, and suddenly you’re right back there. It could be Charlie Robison or Ozzy.

As Wade Bowen once sang, “a song is more powerful than most people think.”

Maybe it’s your dad’s truck radio. Maybe it’s the first CD you bought with your own money. Or maybe it’s that live record that made you believe a concert could feel like church.

We move on, grow up, chase new sounds, but the great ones never really leave. The ones that leave their mark on you. Even if you’re the only one that stans for it. They just wait patiently until the right mix of nostalgia and news brings them roaring back through the speakers.

So yeah, I’m currently re-enlisted in the KISS Army. Until the next mix of news and emotion arrives.

“I can't even read notes. But I can teach someone how to make a guitar smoke.” - Ace Frehley