The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Saturday, August 3, 1996              TAG: 9608020051
SECTION: DAILY BREAK             PAGE: E1   EDITION: FINAL 
SOURCE: BY CRAIG SHAPIRO, STAFF WRITER 
                                            LENGTH:   92 lines

KISS & TELL IT'S NOT SET IN STONE, BUT THE MONSTER OF ROCK ARE DUE IN HAMPTON ROADS THIS FALL. MEANTIME, HERE'S THE WORD ON THIS YEAR'S HOTTEST TOUR FROM THE MAN HIMSELF: GENE SIMMONS

DETROIT JUNE 28. 10 o'clock EST. No question: TV, radio and, believe it or not, newspapers were caught napping.

Maybe the 53,000 fans wedged into Tiger Stadium that night were, too.

With a power riff from ``Deuce,'' the KISS reunion tour got under way - Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Ace Frehley and Peter Criss in concert for the first time in 17 years, and in full Kabuki makeup and mile-high platform boots.

But it was hardly just an opening night.

Not to those who saw the big picture.

Like KISS' God of Thunder.

``This is clearly the second coming,'' Simmons said in a phone interview, ``and I'm not waiting for the media to pick up on that. I want to be worshiped. You don't get any Sturm und Drang from me. I have nothing to sell. Just worship me. I deserve it. I'm a nice guy.''

Adulation doesn't seem to be a problem.

Detroit sold out in a record 47 minutes; tickets in Houston, Dallas, St. Paul and Moline, Ill., (pop. 43,202) were snapped up. Demand was so heavy in Chicago, Cleveland and New York - the 60,000 seats for KISS' four nights at Madison Square Garden were gone within an hour - that shows had to be added.

How hot is KISS? To fit in the new dates, a concert penciled in last week at the US Air Arena in Landover, Md., was pushed back to the fall.

Simmons isn't surprised by the reception. He predicted it last April in New York, when the band met the press aboard the USS Intrepid to announce the tour and - back to the big picture - explain why rock 'n' roll needs KISS right now.

Two words: false idols.

``Grunge sounds like undigested food,'' Simmons said on a recent afternoon from his Kansas City hotel suite. ``It's over. Who the hell wants to hear somebody mope on stage about how miserable they are? Don't get up on that dais. Get out of here.

``I'm sick and tired of seeing guys in wrinkled shirts. They look like bums. The people in the audience look better than the people on stage. It's like making a call to a 900 number and hearing this beautiful, sensual voice. What a scary thought if you open the door and she looks hideous.

``This is a clear signal to that new band playing in a garage in Wisconsin that it's OK to dress up. You don't have to wait for Halloween. What's the best kind of party? A masquerade party.''

Dress codes - Simmons calls it ``posing like lumberjacks and heroin addicts'' - wouldn't fly with KISS fans, anyway, he said. They're too preoccupied to give a flip about what the guy in the next seat is wearing.

``There's no time to be fake. It's like the Fourth of July. You just go `Wow!' and look up in the sky.''

What wonders await.

A new hydraulics system carries each band member, including Criss, drum kit and all, out and waaaay over the audience. The pyrotechnics are flashier. And Simmons is up to his old tricks, putting on a fire-breathing display for ``Firehouse'' and soaring to the rafters to sing ``God of Thunder'' and hurl fake blood. With the rig he has now, he's clocking ``eight feet per second.''

``And forget the sun-tanning booth. The light system will change your skin tone. If the circus hadn't had it, this would be the greatest show on earth.''

Fans, of course, have been calling for a reunion for years. But Simmons, who carved out successful careers as an actor and business manager for other celebrities, would have nothing to do with it until the timing - not the money - was right.

``Sobriety prompted it,'' he said. ``Some members of the band had gone the way of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I wouldn't have any part of it. I've always been vehemently anti-self-abuse.

``KISS has always been a workingman's band. We show up on time, give them bang for the buck and send them home saying that was the best show they ever saw. Once everyone had their self-discipline back, you're reminded that Dr. Jekyll is really a cool guy. You don't have to get Mr. Hyde.''

But that moment when KISS hits the stage may be even cooler, Simmons said.

``There's three generations of fans waiting - fathers, sons and grandsons. It's amazing. It breaks every rule of rock 'n' roll. When we were growing up, we were told don't trust Mom and Dad. Now, Mom and Dad are cool.''

Those fans shouldn't worry about the express running out of steam anytime soon. With domestic dates being added daily, and Europe and Japan on the horizon, no one's even talking about when the tour might end.

Other projects include a new studio album; a comic book team-up with the X-Men, written by Marvel founder Stan Lee; a feature film; a Saturday-morning cartoon, and a Broadway show. For real. ``It's only bizarre, all this activity,'' Simmons said.

For now, however, KISS' focus is on the business at hand.

``It's like getting into a fast car that has a lot of power under the hood. Before anyone asks, you step on the pedal and see what this baby will do.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo by Barry Levine

[KISS]

KEYWORDS: PROFILE INTERVIEW by CNB