Howie Klein

Howie Klein, president of 415 Records, with heavy-metal group Rude Girl in San Francisco, Calif., 1984 (Iris Schneider, Los Angeles Times - https://digital.library.ucla.edu/catalog/ark:/21198/zz0002sf7c)

Sad to see that Howie Klein, a political and music industry hero as well as one of the best storytellers I've known, has died. He relentlessly fought for important causes and used his stature to help artists and marginalized people. Great punk rock sense of humor, too. 

I was surprised to hear Jello Biafra tell me how much he loved Howie, and that I needed to talk to him. Not that I didn't have utmost respect for Howie—it's just that he was in the upper ranks of the corporate music industry, against so much of what Jello stands for. Of course, within minutes of speaking with Howie I could tell they were kindred spirits. Howie had a mischievous, anarchic streak that was constantly superseded authority and sticking it to the man, long after so many of the music forms he championed had become mainstream. From his concert bookings at a Stony Brook University student (the Doors, the Grateful Dead, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Joni Mitchell, Pink Floyd, Otis Redding, the Who, many others) through his interviews as a San Francisco DJ (the Cramps, Devo, Iggy Pop, the Sex Pistols, many others) through his stints at 415, Sire, and Reprise Records (the Cure, Green Day, Fleetwood Mac, Ice-T,  Madonna, Alanis Morissette, the Pretenders, Ramones, Lou Reed, Romeo Void, the Smiths, Neil Young, many others), he's almost certainly worked with some music you love, likely something you'd never have heard without Howie's efforts and influence.

He signed Body Count out of a love for their music and the musicians, and staunchly defended them against pressure from America's government and police forces when the "Cop Killer" scandal broke. He spoke with me about flying out to New York solo to defend "Cop Killer" from corporate (when asked if he had a suit for the journey, his response was that he'd gotten one for his bar mitzvah), and revealed that the Time Warner bomb threats were being delivered by angry policemen. But my favorite Howie story is when the Body Count record went gold he had plaques printed for Dan Quayle and Charlton Heston. He was a critical help with my book, sharing stories he hadn't told before, and still made time to talk to me about getting Lou Reed to meet Vaclav Havel at the White House. Today I learned his buyout resignation amidst the disastrous Time Warner-AOL merger occurred a day before his successor infamously rejected Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Howie continued to fight for free speech, artists' rights and progressive causes long after the banning of "Cop Killer," even from his deathbed. I wish he'd written a book, though he certainly cared more about improving the world than promoting his brand. I cherish our conversations and will miss him. Thank you, Howie. 

Ace Frehley

Ace seemed like one of us. Kiss were superheroes, obviously, who could fly, breathe fire, spit blood and send smoke from their instruments upon command. Space Ace was right up there with them, shaking his axe in unison with his bandmates, riffs punctuated by arena-shaking explosives. But when the make came off and we started to see the men behind the Starchild, the Demon, the Spaceman and the Catman, Ace above all seemed like a regular guy, a laid back stoner who basically stumbled into company with his ambitious band dictators Paul and Gene. Nothing could stop those two guys from being rich and famous, and they've made it clear that money, power and (to use a nicer term than Gene's) women were their priorities. But even at the top, Ace seemed like he got there just because he was a nice guy who loved to rock. He could sing about as well as his fans, and that was perfect for "Rocket Ride," "Shock Me" and of course "New York Groove."

It's easy to see why Kiss fans, famously some of the most devoted and obsessive in modern music, almost universally prefer the Frehley lineup. He was there for the classics, and his contributions—that life-affirming guitar work on "Let Me Go, Rock 'n' Roll," the haunting breakdown in "Strange Ways," the skyscraping leads on "Shout It Out Loud"—are as entrenched in Kiss' DNA as anything the band ever recorded. It's no surprise that adolescents who listen to Kiss grew up to be Dimebag Darrell, Ihsahn, Tom Morello, Mike McCready and more than any published remembrances will contain. Young Kirk Hammett dressed as Ace for Halloween and Jason Newsted changed his musical direction upon hearing Dressed to Kill. Two members of Body Count (D-Roc the Executioner and "Ill Will" Dorsey) have cited Kiss as the reason they make music. Out of all Local H's storied Halloween shows, Scott Lucas cites their Kiss performance as a personal favorite.

Ace was not above embarrassing rock star indulgences or abhorrent political preferences, and much as we wish he'd stayed in Kiss, his habit seemed like more than his taskmaster bosses could bare. But I'd bet the most expensive piece of Kiss merchandise (maybe the Koffin? No, the Gene Simmons box set that he personally delivered to your house) that if polled, the Kiss Army would overwhelmingly pick Ace as the one we'd most like to hang with. He seemed like a genuine Bill and Ted, Wayne and Garth type who was thrilled to be there, sometimes at the behest of this teetotaler bandmates (mention Tom Snyder's Tomorrow Show among the Kiss Army and we'll all know exactly what you're talking about). But even Gene and Paul were willing to tolerate an inordinate amount of Ace tomfoolery in exchange for the joyous, unmistakable solos Ace put on record, a perfect dose of cheerful sloppiness for an otherwise Apollonian band.

Kiss' decision to release four solo albums from each member on the same day is widely viewed as an indulgent decision that helped tank the band's popularity. But like George Harrison releasing the best solo Beatles album, Ace stepped up from behind the confines of his bandleaders, proving that he had more good ideas than Gene and Paul knew what to do with, or had the sense to include on Kiss albums. "Rip It Up," "Snow Blind" and the underrated instrumental "Fractured Mirror" are worthy of classic-era Kiss, and his improvement of Hello's "New York Groove" has gone from being a Kiss Army favorite to a city anthem closing in on the ubiquity of Sinatra's "New York, New York." It now feels as beloved outside the Church of Kisstianity as "Rock and Roll All Nite" or "Detroit Rock City." It's covered by everyone from Yo La Tengo to the Roots. It's played over the PA at Citi Field Mets victories and soundtracks COVID-19 recovery campaigns. It's no surprise that Kiss now include in on their compilation albums, claiming it as one of the band's own.

Not long ago, I saw a mother out with her young daughter, a little girl in full Kiss make up. When I expressed my delight, the mother told me they were on their way home from a Kiss-themed birthday party, where all the kids got their faces painted and won Kiss goody bags. It reminded me that Kiss fandom is like Star Wars fandom, or Batman fandom—we read books about it, we dress like them for Halloween, we play along with their various ups and downs. Kiss are often criticized for being more of a business than a band (fair—part of that business is quality control, which Kiss delivers live and on record in droves), but Ace was an undeniable fan. No one could question his love of music or performing. Through much of this year, he was still playing Kiss songs as well as his body would let him, basing his setlist on fan favorites, happy to be anywhere he could play guitar. Thank you Space Ace, forever in a New York Groove.

Ozzy Osbourne

 My Ozzy tribute is now up at RogerEbert.com.

Stay tuned.

 J-Card.

"The Planet Raps Back"

Enjoy "The Planet Raps Back" from Time Warner's bonkers 1990 all-star The Earth Day Special (seriously, check out this cast), featuring Quincy Jones, Ice-T, Fresh Prince, Tone Lōc, Queen Latifah, Kid 'n Play and Heavy D:

 

Ice-T, "Personal"

Seeing Heart this week reminded me that they inadvertently connected Ice-T to Metallica. On Ice-T’s 1988 song “Personal,” he samples Nancy Wilson’s guitar track for “Magic Man.” Kirk Hammett, a longtime Ice fan, credits “Personal” with inspiring the guitar solo for “Enter Sandman.” Check out the little gallop that first comes in around :55 and you can hear what Kirk’s talking about.

Kirk: “I think the time has come to reveal where I actually got the guitar lick before the breakdown in Enter Sandman: It’s from "Magic Man," by Heart, but I didn’t get it from Heart’s version; I got it from a cut off Ice-T’s Power album, where he sampled it. I heard that and thought, ‘I have to snake this!’”

Metallica Saved My Life

 

Super excited for the upcoming documentary Metallica Saved My Life. Check out the trailer above, and read an excerpt from my book about Metallica fandom here.