We Are The Champions

A friend sent an old video of me, acting like a fool, and loving every minute of it.In 2006, after the release of The Verve Pipe's album Villains, we set out on the road to promote. One of the many bands that we had the pleasure of touring with was none other then that band of demons called Kiss.I recall the first time I saw the Kiss Alive record in 1976 or 1977. It was my brother's, and it sat on his shelf somewhere between Chicago's Greatest Hits and Led Zepplin IV, in it's proper place, alphabetically.Being in the 6th grade, I had to rely on my teenager brother's taste in music. My brother worked and could afford to buy albums, I did not work, and could not. I found employment difficult as a 6th grader, though I did the occasional odd job. What I did with that money was what I did with any money I happened across: I spent it all on candy, and ate it all in one sitting.I remember being drawn to the pictures on that record, so drawn, that I felt I just had to break the rules, and play it. Back then, the pictures on an album were everything. There was no MTV, and you had to rely on the photos and artwork on a record to get a full sense of the band. Kiss was no exception, in fact, you got enough imagery of the band that you may just find them in your nightmares.I did listen to the record, sitting there in my brother's bean bag chair which I had positioned near the window. The positioning was key because I could see him outside in the back yard playing baseball. It was a dangerous way to listen; any errant fly ball could break through the window and not only render me unconscious, but unleash the chorus of "I Want To Rock And Roll All Night" through the window to be heard, warranting a beating from him.I listen to Kiss through my high school years, while my friends were into Journey or ELO. Kiss wasn't popular in the 80's in my school or many high schools I imagine. I had the feeling that the band themselves knew that, and in an effort to legitimize themselves, they took the make-up off. That's how I justified it back then. With the makeup off, it wasn't the same band for me.Which brings us to 1996, when they put the make-up back on, and were going out on the road with the original members. I was thrilled when my manager called and said, "Don't laugh, but Kiss wants you guys to open for them on the first leg of the tour."I did laugh, but it was a joyful one. "You're not serious, " I replied."I'm serious. Gene and Paul are big fans of Villains."I was blown away. The opportunity to play with two of my childhood idols would have been enough, but to find out that they actually liked my music gave me goose pimples.We accepted the challenge. We were to play a string of dates in the south.The reality of the situation was this: We were an unknown band at the time, and we were opening the show for one of the most popular bands ever. In each city, nearly 20,000 people waited in line for hours and hours to get tickets, got to the venue 4 hours before show time, waited outside in the southern heat for two more hours, got ushered into the enormo dome and crammed together for another two hours. Then, when the lights go down, the roar of the crowd is deafening. The anticipation is at a fever pitch. Then, when the crowd can't take it anymore, the lights go up, and there on the stage, looking very small is 'the verve something".For ten dates, we went out on that stage, determined to not let the boos get to us. In fact, the boos didn't last throughout the set. We made it clear from song one that we were Kiss fans, and were just thankful for the opportunity. We became a better band, we were forced to, and I learned that we were capable of turning a crowd around. By the end of each set, we had all of them on our side.Gene would come around to our dressing room every other night to offer encouragement, or just to sit and chat, sometimes in full makeup and sometimes not. I was in rock and roll heaven.The tour was going so well for us, that Kiss asked us to come to Europe with them. I was brimming with confidence then, and we agreed to join them.I remember those dates were quite spotty. The nights you felt would be bad shows, ending up being great and vice versa. The show in Paris was one where I expected the worst, but it turned out so well, that I actually left the stage to go out front and mingle with the crowd after the set. I spoke very little French, a mandatory skill I had heard, but was still embraced. Prague was a two night stop, and both shows, I thought we would be handed our asses, but I'll be damned, they loved us more than anyone. I had learned how to ask the crowd "Do You Want Kiss?" in Czechoslovakian, and they loved it. I was high-fiving (something I'm not proud of) the front row during the performance.The shows that I felt would be the best were the shows in Germany. I had spent 2 years there when I was an Army private in Nurnburg, 11 years earlier. I speak German fairly well, at least enough to get the crowd on our side. A handful of shows in this country was going to be a fine way to go out and end the tour.The Germans did not embrace us, and the boos did not subside. Night after night, we were spit on, yelled at, flipped off, you name it. Brad, our bass player, seemed to love the negative attention. He would stand right up front, and when the show was over, he would come back stage, his clothes covered in spit. It was disgusting.It was clear that we would not be able to win these crowds over. I was very disappointed, and soon, I dreaded getting on the stage. My stomach felt an unfamiliar pang with the approach of show time. Diarrhea became a normal movement those days.So it was the last night of the tour, and I had just about had it. I resented the Germans for being so close-minded to us. I had promised everyone that this would be the best part of the tour, and alas, it was far worse than any of the dates.Before the show, I had taken a styrofoam cup, and cut out these ridiculously big, bad looking teeth. I took them onstage with me, and set them on my amp.We usually ended the set with a pumped up version of The Beatles "Strawberry Fields Forever", and when that was finished, I removed my shirt, put those Freddy Mercury teeth in, draped a towel around my neck and and sang "We Are The Champions" to 20,000 booing Germans.Watching the video now, and knowing myself pretty well these days, I can spot a moment of pure joy and relief on my face. It's right before the last line, "of the world". Just a big smile and a laugh.The look is priceless to me these days. Knowing everything I do now about what was to come for The Verve PIpe, that was probably the most satisfied I would feel for the next 5 years.Watch Video