Gene Simmons stands more than 7 feet tall in his platform boots, and it's his image—the blood–spitting, bass–humping demon with the lasciviously wagging tongue—that more than anything else has defined the hard–rock franchise of KISS.
Simmons looms even larger this month, with an autobiography, a spot as a tell–all host on Court TV ("The Secret History of Rock 'n' Roll" at 9 tonight on Court TV) and a five–CD box set of music from the million–selling quartet.
"I don't know how to tell you this, but here comes the truth," he said in a phone interview from Los Angeles. "The raging demon is really kind of a milk 'n' cookies guy, never been high or drunk in his life. And won't have anything to do with people who need to smoke or drink or want to waste his time."
The 52–year–old Simmons has written his autobiography, Kiss and Make–Up, and it's full of sex 'n' sin escapades—he claims to have slept with 4,600 women on the road (he keeps a scrapbook of Polaroids). He also talks about his romantic relationships with Cher and Diana Ross in the 1970s. The book, published by Crown Publishing, is being relased today.
Yet his greatest candor is reserved for KISS itself—it's a business, first and foremost, owned by Simmons and guitarist Paul Stanley. "I always wanted to be in a rock 'n' roll brand; I didn't want to be in a rock 'n' roll band," he said. "Rock 'n' roll bands are boring. They do one thing. It's a one–trick pony: You play your song, you get off the stage, thank you, good night."
Simmons and Stanley—their real names are Chaim Witz and Stanley Eisen—were "nice Jewish boys" from New York who wanted to conquer the world.
"I wanted to be Disney without the overhead," Simmons said. The best Kiss songs—"Rock and Roll All Nite," "Strutter," "Shout It Out Loud"—celebrate youthful dumbness with a proud swagger. They're rock 'n' roll anthems with no message whatsoever. And that has always been the point.
"You're not talking about a serious form of music anyway," Simmons said. "Nobody reads or writes music, and everybody's self–taught. The whole notion that rock 'n' roll, and musicians barely in their 20s, would ever have this deluded notion that this is serious music, they're on crack.
"Jazz and classical musicians call it for what it is: It's sugar. Sugar for the masses. I love sugar! I don't delude myself into thinking that it's a salad or that it's good for you. It burns fast and it tastes good.
"And so, while other bands are delusional and think that they're about good taste, Kiss is very clear that it just tastes good. The last thing I want to do is to have a moron tell me what he's doing is `art,' when you and I both know that Art should usually be the name of a guy.
"Most rock stars should basically shut up and be glad they don't have to work for a living," he said.
In his book, Simmons details guitarist Ace Frehley and drummer Peter Criss' longtime problems with drugs and alcohol, and how, as a teetotaler, it made him crazy. It's why when the two returned to the band in the '90s, they were not full–fledged members as they were from 1975 to '80 but contract players working for Simmons and Stanley.
"The same guy I love straight is also the same guy that I hate when he's high," he said. "I love the guys, and even after all this time, if I were to live it over again, I would still pick Ace and Peter for the band because they helped make it what it is.
"But was being in the same band with them a joy? No, it was torture. Basically because they brought whatever it was that was dysfunctional in their life into the band, and so it made the band dysfunctional." Simmons and Stanley own the others' makeup designs—"we bought everybody out"—and recently, drummer Eric Singer replaced Criss on the so–called Farewell Tour, wearing Criss' "kittycat" makeup.
"Peter couldn't make a deal with us," Simmons said. "Strictly about money. And don't let anybody tell you otherwise, there's no such thing as a band that does it for free."
Many overseas dates on the Farewell Tour were postponed after Sept. 11, so Kiss hasn't quite said farewell yet. Meanwhile, the Kiss marketing machine rolls on. The boxed set of the band's music comes inside an elaborate replica guitar case, there's actually a Kiss Kasket and "Kiss condoms are coming, there's going to be a Kiss superhero show on TV, there's going to be a Kiss Broadway show," Simmons said. "We're going to go where no band has gone before. Like it or not. Disney without overhead. Remember."