Free Kiss and Make-Up by Gene Simmons

two of us met. Brooke Ostrander, Tony Zarella, Stephen Coronel, and I were starting to rehearse, and Paul walked in. Paul came from a traditional middle-class Jewish background. His family also lived in Queens, where his father worked for a furniture company. And while we obviously had quite a bit in common, there were also some key differences. Paul’s parents were very well read, liberal, and assimilated, while my mother was cautious and not as well read. In some ways, Paul’s family was more like thefamilies of the cousins I stayed with when I came to the United States.
    I’d like to say that Paul and I hit it off instantly, that a flash of inspiration passed between us, containing the seeds of what would eventually become the KISS empire. But the truth of the matter is that when we first met in upstate New York, Paul didn’t like me at all. He thought I was abrasive. I think it had something to do with the fact that after we shook hands, I looked him straight in the face and said, “Oh, so you write songs? Let’s hear them.” I certainly made no attempt to be confrontational. But he got that impression. He got this expression on his face, like
Who does this guy think he is?
    Paul and I have known each other now for thirty years. He has been the brother I never had. So it’s somewhat difficult to remember that first meeting. But I can see how my manner may have been a bit off-putting; my enthusiasm sometimes comes off as a kind of arrogance. And I can see why he might have perceived me that way: I didn’t have a father, or a father figure, or a big brother, so the only one I was ever able to turn to for inspiration was myself—or, when I wasn’t able to generate it, to Superman, or King Kong. In a lot of ways I was delusional, and still am. I am one of those few guys who can look in a mirror and believe I am better looking than I actually am. This has always been the case. As a result of this delusional self-confidence, when I got dumped by girls, it meant nothing. I would think,
She doesn’t understand
, and go on to the next girl. Being relentless has its rewards. Every time I would succeed, I would think,
See, I’m right.
    What accounts for this? Perhaps it’s because I was an only child. Perhaps it’s a result of my mother always being there and always saying the things that parents are supposed to say. She had survived so much hardship in the concentration camps that when she had me, she spent every minute of her time telling me the things that children should hear.
You can be anything you want to be. You’re better than everybody else. Don’t let the people outside get to you.
When my mother would answer the phone and I was in the bathroom, it was, “The king can’t come to the phone. He’s on the throne.” I guess you could say she spoiled me. While this was great for me, it wasn’talways great for the people who met me. They didn’t know what to take with a grain of salt and a sense of humor.
    As I quickly learned after Paul joined Wicked Lester, he wasn’t so different from me. Immediately, he started hanging out with the rest of us, trying to write songs and push us up the ladder of local bands. But there was some tension in the band, particularly between Paul and Steve. They didn’t get along, and I couldn’t understand why. One day at his house Steve turned around to Paul and said, “Who the hell do you think you are? Do you think you have some kind of aura around you?” And Paul said, “Yeah. I do think that I have an aura around me.”
    So call it whatever you want: ego, aura. I think you have to have a screw loose to do this—to be in the rock star business. Look at nature. Animals duck or flinch when they hear a noise. It’s instinct. But there is always one animal that holds its ground and raises itself up to its full height. You see this with little dogs that bark at larger animals. Either this dog is out of its mind or it thinks it’s a much bigger dog than it is. You think