R.I.P. ACE

I first discovered KISS in 1976 when I was 9 years old. Immediately I gravitated to lead guitarist Ace Frehley, so much so that I asked my parents to buy me a guitar for my birthday. Even as my age barely cracked double digits, it was clear to me that Ace was in a league with the best guitarists of his era. I challenge anybody to name one axe slinger from the mid-1970s that could smoke Frehley. (Here’s a clue: Blackmore stands alone). Though I knew this innately, I was also still young enough at the time to think, “That’s who I wanna be when I grow up.” It didn’t take me very long to realize two things for certain: 1) The job was already taken. And 2) growing up is optional. That last bit may even be a nod to Ace’s own deathless irreverence and the possibility that his sense of humor was just as influential to me as his guitar technique. I could spin off in a thousand different directions whenever thinking, talking or writing about Ace. But as far as the sense of humor thing goes, nobody else in KISS seemed to have one at all. I could tell you about his records, the many times I saw him in concert, and the numerous controversies in his personal life over the years. But that’s for another time. About three years ago I actually started writing a book about Ace. A few months into the process I suddenly shifted gears and started writing a book about the Grateful Dead instead. No regrets (the name of Ace’s autobiography, btw), because all along I have known that I will one day get back to the Ace book. But today comes news that the man is gone and at the very least we can say that this most recent development will certainly weigh heavily on the timeline in my next book. To make a long story short, the influence of Ace Frehley was my entry point into the world of creative expression. Music, art, literature, and all that they mean to me as a listener, observer, practitioner, consumer, commentator, musician, artist, writer, seeker, and more. It all started with KISS and specifically Ace Frehley who inspired me to get my first guitar. One thing we can be certain of is that Ace himself would have let rip with that legendary uproarious cackle of his if I’d ever had the chance to tell him these things myself. He’s on the record for telling rock n roll guitarists at large who overstate his influence that they were “worshipping an idiot”. But the simple fact is that I would not be who I am today were it not for him. Other than my father and Frank Zappa, no other man ever held such an influence over my life’s path. So this is a day when I am forced to stop and take stock, giving thanks as ever to this truly original oddball from the Bronx who was perhaps one of the most unlikely success stories in the history of American music. Of course he was laughing most of the time. What were the odds? Paul Daniel “Ace” Frehley April 27, 1951 - October 16, 2025