Way back in the 1970s when I was in college, a hard-playing band hit the rock scene. They were called KISS. They were arguably the last of the four-man super-groups patterned after the Beatles, where each member was considered an equal. Since the 1980s, it seems as though most rock bands revolve around one guy, e.g. Steven Tyler and Aerosmith, Kurt Kobain and Nirvana, Eddie Vetter and Pearl Jam, Bono and U2, Ed Roland and Collective Soul, Chad Kroeger and Nickelback, etc. KISS was the last band that I memorized the names of each member: Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Ace Frehley and Peter Criss. (How many people memorized all the members of The Doors?). By the late 70’s, KISS music was a given; tune in any rock station and you were going to hear some KISS.

Actually, I wasn’t a big Kiss fan. I did take a liking to Detroit Rock City, especially before they toned it down by removing the big car crash at the end. But otherwise, Kiss’s music was OK but nothing special. I never did see them in concert; just wasn’t impressed by the crazy costumes, the bizarre guitars, and the makeup. I never bought any of their records either (what for? they were always on the radio).

And now here it is, 30+ years since Kiss hit the big time. Like me, the band members are getting old. Their voices aren’t quite what they used to be, and their bodies probably aren’t up to the wild theatrics that thrilled their fans, not to mention the sex and drugs that went together with rock stardom. I read the other day that drummer Peter Criss has developed carpal tunnel syndrome. But back in the gravy days, Kiss and their fans never imagined that old age would someday start catching up with them — no young person ever does.

Nonetheless, Kiss did muster enough energy for a 30th anniversary concert back in 2003. They did what some other bands had tried in the late 90s and early 00s — they performed live with a professional orchestra behind them (the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra, in Melbourne, Australia). And they put out a CD and DVD from that concert, called Kiss Symphony, Alive 4. Almost three years after that concert event, in the sunset of their fame, I finally gave in to the Kiss phenomenon by buying a copy of the Alive 4 CD.

At my age, it’s hard to fall in love with a song. When I was young, it would happen every month or so. But now, almost nothing new catches my ear. However, when I heard the symphonic rendition of “Love Gun” on the radio last week, with violins and horns fighting for attention against Kiss’s driving guitars and pounding drums; with the disciplined power of the orchestra conductor competing against the raw urgency of Kiss’s sexual lyrics, I had to smile. I knew that this was music I had to hear. A quick tour of Ebay showed that Alive 4 was available for $10 (with shipping). So I took the plunge.

The nice thing about Alive 4 versus the other symphonic concert ventures that various bands such as Deep Purple, Metallica and the Scorpions have made in recent years is the incredible tension between Kiss’s “loud and wild” style and the orchestra’s complex discipline. There are over 100 reviews of the album on Amazon, and most of them either love it or hate it. I personally enjoy the contradictions, the yin and yang of the Kiss / Melborne Symphony Orchestra interaction on Alive 4. It’s just too bad that Kiss waited so long to try this.

It’s also a shame that this approach is mostly a novelty. To me, symphony music lacks spontaneity and liveliness, and yet rock music lacks the intelligent design and wonderful range of instrumental sounds that are blended together most every night by concert orchestras. If you could put the two styles together somehow, you would have a sound experience that approaches the full range of human experience. On Alive 4, Kiss and the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra came pretty close at times.

Not that the whole album is perfect. Far from it. The first six songs in fact are by Kiss alone. And they are good songs, but you can sense that this is an old rock band that hadn’t been working together much lately. There are some obvious off-notes and missed beats (but not serious enough to stop the flow of energy that even a middle-aged Kiss brings to their music). Five songs then follow where Kiss is backed up by an “ensemble”, a lite version of the orchestra. The first tune in this lineup is probably the worst of them all; it’s the power ballad “Beth” by drummer Peter Criss. Despite his hand problems, Criss can still keep a beat; but his voice is not a young, supple voice anymore, which is what “Beth” calls for. No mind, though. The next four numbers are melodic harmonizers (Forever, Goin’ Blind, Sure Know Something, Shandi), which are accented nicely by the ensemble strings.

Then comes Act Three, the main event. Kiss and the full symphony orchestra cut their way through ten solid rockers. They start out slow with Detroit Rock City, where the orchestra seems to put a drag on the wild energy that drives the tune. But after a few measures, Kiss brings it up to speed, and the oboes and flutes and cellos soon contribute to the momentum. At many points, the screaming lyrics and wailing guitar-work drown out the orchestra; but conductor David Campbell always seems to bring it up for air and recaptures the stage with a dramatic violin or horn movement. When it all finally wraps up with the Kiss National Anthem (I Wanna Rock and Roll All Night), you wish it could last longer. You wish there were other albums like this, maybe done with younger guys still in their prime. But no; it’s back down to reality, back to the modern moodiness of Nickelback and Staind and Godsmack (oh, and let’s not even get into trance and hip-hop stuff). The younger folk just don’t share this vision. Once again, I got a quick taste of the world as I would imagine it, only to have it pulled away in favor of the world such as it is. That’s pretty much been the story of my life.

But I shouldn’t complain too much, as one day life will be over (I hope that’s still a ways in the future yet). And maybe there’s an afterlife. And maybe Saint Peter will be there to greet us at the gate to eternity. But if instead, it were Gene and Paul and Peter and Ace (or his replacement on Alive 4,Tommy Thayer) who came out, with full makeup, and they shouted in unison “THE PARTY’S JUST BEGUN, WE’LL LET YOU IN” . . . . well, I’d be a bit uncertain as to whether it was heaven or hell. (If the orchestra were also there, I’d be a little more at ease about it all.)

But either way — it would probably turn out to be all right.