Let Me Go, Rock 'n Roll

The beginning of my musical journey

He mysteriously appeared sometime in the autumn. At the time, my dad worked at GM, and we lived in Lake Orion, Michigan. The steamy heat of the midwest summer had passed, but the chill of winter had yet to settle in. It was a couple of months shy of my seventh birthday and I was in first grade. Every morning, I excitedly went to school, wearing my Garanimals clothing and my shiny stainless steel Evel Knievel lunchbox in hand. 

In 1975, my uncle arrived at our doorstep; he had long hair, a mustache, and a beard and was curiously wearing a large top hat, a fringed vest, and patched blue jeans. I was both intimidated and fascinated by his hippie appearance. I rarely saw adults who looked like him, and he was now in our house. He had hitchhiked from San Francisco to Indiana and then up to Michigan. That evening, he and my parents engaged in conversation and chain-smoked cigarettes while my sister and I watched television. At some point, he mentioned that he had brought us gifts and went to his bag to retrieve them.

He pulled out a large, dark square object, which I could tell was a record, and handed it to me. I can't remember what he gave my sister, as I was entirely focused on the album in my hands. Although I had a portable record player and a few 45s, this was my first full-length album.

As I sat holding the record, I couldn’t take my eyes off the front cover photo. The band exuded an aura of intriguing mystery. They were in a perfectly timed and orchestrated moment, surrounded by smoke bombs, adorned with kabuki-style face paint, strange costumes, and towering boots. I opened the double album gatefold and discovered a multi-page insert with more photos. Flipping the album over, there was a picture of two long-haired fans holding a handmade banner, standing in the middle of a concert arena surrounded by thousands of other long-haired, denim-clad rock and roll fans. 

KISS ‘ALIVE!’

I immediately got my portable record player, plugged it in, and put it on the floor. I sat beside it and clumsily put the needle down on Side A. My obsessive care for records I now have today was nonexistent back then. Suddenly, I heard the crowd roar before a voice proclaimed, “You wanted the best, and you got it, the hottest band in the world... KISS!” The sounds of electric guitars filled the room, an explosive blast erupted, the drums rolled, and the entire band kicked in full throttle.

At just six years old, this was the moment I fell in love with rock and roll.

My sister sat near me and we both colored and listened to the record. Throughout its four sides, I was fully engrossed in the music. I carefully examined every photo, and she read the strange handwritten letters inside the gatefold. Despite not understanding exactly what they were saying, they conveyed an intriguing sense of danger. I absorbed every guitar note, every lyric, and every conversation the band had with the audience.

This is such a core and formative memory that many images are still with me. Over the decades, through conversations with my family, the pieces of the story have only become clearer.

I was completely obsessed with KISS between the ages of 6 and 11. During school, I would daydream about the strange looking band and would listen to their records while drawing pictures of the band or playing with toys. I eventually had so many posters of the band that they covered my walls and even my ceiling. A year or so after receiving KISS ‘Alive!’ from my uncle, I had money from chores, birthday or Christmas and purchased my first record album with my own money. We were at a KMart, and I saw the orange, dynamic illustration of KISS ‘Rock and Roll Over’ on the shelf, and I couldn’t stop looking at it. I pulled it off the shelf, took it to my mom, and said I wanted to buy it. Ultimately, my passion for KISS led me to discover other bands and records. 

In 1977, at eight years old, I officially became a card-carrying member of their fan club, The KISS Army. In my third and fourth-grade class photo, I proudly donned a KISS t-shirt. In fourth grade, for show and tell, I brought my favorite KISS albums along with my portable record player to school and shared them with the class. When my teacher asked what my favorite song was, I played the fast and explosive "Parasite" from their ‘Alive!’ album to the entire class (to this day, I still claim it’s their best song). At nine years old, Ace Frehley was my guitar god. 

By 1979, in fifth grade, my record collection had expanded to include every KISS album, as well as Aerosmith's ‘Toys In The Attic’ and ‘Rocks,’ Grand Funk Railroad's ‘Closer To Home,’ ‘Survival’ and their ‘Live Album,’ UFO's ‘Strangers In The Night,’ ‘Force It,’ and ‘Lights Out,’ along with Led Zeppelin's ‘I-IV,’ the first two albums by Van Halen, AC/DC's ‘Let There Be Rock’ and ‘Highway to Hell,’ and, of course, Fleetwood Mac's ‘Rumours.’ Amidst the loud rock and roll of my youth, I also cherished ‘Rumours,’ and spent countless hours listening to it while admiring the stunning photographs of Stevie Nicks on the album cover and its black-and-white insert.

Later that year, in the summer of 1979, KISS announced they were bringing their ‘Dynasty’ tour to town for two nights, and I begged my parents to take me. Thankfully, we managed to get tickets for what was, indeed, the hottest concert in town. It was my first concert, I was ten years old, and as we entered the parking lot, I noticed many fans walking to the stadium with their faces painted. The excitement in the air was palpable, and the atmosphere was electric.

Fast-forward to this past weekend; five decades since I was given KISS ‘Alive!’ As I type, I am listening to the first album by the Afro-Caribbean band Cymande. I also picked up a couple of albums, including one by the long-forgotten Jackson 5-influenced soul, pop group The Ponderosa Twins Plus One and a compilation of ‘70s Chicago Latin Plena, Salsa, and Jibaro music. And I have tickets to see the London-based jazz band Kokoroko later this week. 

While I may no longer listen to KISS, and my stomach churns when I hear Gene Simmons talk about their grotesque lust and greed for the all-mighty dollar, I still have those albums on my record shelves. When I pull them out to look at them or flip through the album inserts with their many thumbtack holes and ripped corners from years of taping them on my bedroom walls, I have to honor KISS for inspiring my imagination and kickstarting my deep love for music & records. 

Every music journey starts somewhere, and mine was here...

The first record I ever owned. It remains in my collection to this day.