Face the Music: A Life Exposed Hardcover by Paul Stanley

Author:Paul Stanley
Language: eng
Format: azw
ISBN: 9780062114044
Publisher: HarperOne
Published: 2014-04-07T23:00:00+00:00

Me and Carol Kaye. My first solo album tells part of our story.

Needless to say, she didn’t stop seeing her other guy after all.

I decided to mix my solo album in London at a legendary old-school studio called Trident. I wanted to fly there on the Concorde, something I’d never done. Somewhere over the Atlantic, it struck me that the plane wasn’t level—it was flying at an angle. But what did I know? Then the pilot came on the PA and said in a calm voice, “This is your captain speaking. Now folks, you may have noticed we’re flying at a slight angle. We’ve lost an engine.”

We’re in the middle of the fucking Atlantic with one engine!

“We’re on our way back to Kennedy Airport.”

If we’re flying on one engine, why don’t we go down to about five feet above the water instead of fifty-five thousand feet above it?

The captain came on ten minutes later: “We’re using more fuel than expected because we’re flying subsonic, so we’re not going to make it to New York.”

That’s not good.

“We’re going to divert to Nova Scotia.”

I don’t like this at all. Why are we so damn high up?

Before too long, the same calm voice came on again: “We’re not going to make Nova Scotia.”

Where on earth are we going to go?

“We’re going to land at Gander Airport in Newfoundland—we need a long runway.”

We made it to Gander and landed. They paired people up and shuttled us off to a local motel. I said there was no fucking way I was bunking with someone.

The next day, a DC-10 made an unscheduled stop and picked us up. They kept us in a sequestered compartment away from everyone else. What should have taken three and a half hours ended up taking seventeen hours. But once in London, I enjoyed it this time. A few months later, when a band called New England that had just signed with a newly formed record label asked me to produce their record, I specified that I would do it only if I could mix it in London.

When the four solo albums came out in late 1978, you could see the glass as half-full or half-empty. Selling around five hundred thousand copies each was nothing to sneeze at—2 million records if you looked at them collectively as a KISS product. But since Neil had shipped a million of each, what was he supposed to do with the other 2 million copies? It was too much hype, and because of the leftover records, a financial disaster for Casablanca.

The solo albums did quell the need for Ace and Peter to leave. But they represented nothing more than a Band-Aid on a gaping wound. They put off something that was inevitable.

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