The Final Confetti Whirlwind, the Final Smashed Guitar, the Final Curtain

The last show in Osaka was, if you believe what KISS is slinging, the last show they ever played in Japan. I didn�t necessarily see people breaking down and weeping, but there was subtle undercurrent of remorse in the smoky air after the lights went up. I think most of the sadness came during train rides home or next days at work, after the post-show highs had dissipated and people had heads clear enough to process the significance of the concert. Some people looked dazed as they stooped to scoop confetti from the floor, as if this action was a last rite, the collection of a memento that would forever signify the end of an era.

This isn�t really the proper place to get into an analysis of KISS� historic relationship with Japan. KISS fans in North and South America, Europe and Australia all know of the Budokan shows in 1977 and �78. They know about �The Originals II� and the other special gifts released only in Japan. They know how KISS adopted chikara from the Japanese language, subsequently making it a de facto band logo. They know � Well, they just know that Japan has always been a special place for KISS.

But again, this isn�t the time and place to analyze KISS and Japan. The Farewell Tour here was an unqualified success no matter how you slice it. With or without Peter, with or without a sold-out opening night, KISS transfixed its Japanese fans for seven shows stretched over two full weeks. I myself learned that KISS goes far beyond the close-minded stance that they can be only Ace, Peter, Gene and Paul. I was disgusted when I heard that the original lineup wouldn�t be playing together in this hemisphere, so much so that I considered foregoing the whole tour. And after Yokohama 1, I was reluctant to even think about KISS. Perseverance persevered, however, and I saw the greatest rock and roll band say goodbye with flair, power and stature.

And I didn�t have to compromise my journalistic ethics to do it.