When my brother Paul and I were kids we were gonzo KISS fans, coming of age right at the band’s mid- to late-1970s peak. Alas, we could never seem to pool enough allowance money to be able to afford memberships in the coveted KISS Army—the perks of which taunted us from the advertising inserts in Rock and Roll Over, Love Gun, and KISS Alive II—but we were true fans, young enough to giddily, innocently enjoy the stomping riffs and cartoon camp, old enough to reckon with our disappointment, unease...