Heart Sweats: A Swim Into The Sound Valentine’s Day Mixtape

Rip open that box of chocolates, pour that red wine, and grab some chalky heart-shaped candies, ‘cause we’ve got a lovey-dovey Valentine’s Day roundup for all you hopeless romantics out there. In celebration of the most amorous holiday, we asked the Swim Team about their most memorable music moment tied to their love life–it could be something that made their heart melt, something that made them cringe with embarrassment, or a song that played during a confession of love that they’ll never forget. Regardless, we wanted to hear about those moments when the music stuck an irreversible chord with their heart. 

Here’s a playlist of each song as a little Valentine’s Day mixtape from The Swim Team to you. I strongly encourage you to listen along as you read and enjoy the happy-accident tonal whiplash in the sequencing. We hope you have a love-filled Valentine’s Day, please have an extra chocolate-covered strawberry in our honor ❤️


Death Cab for Cutie – “Passenger Seat”

The road from Southern Illinois University to Missouri Baptist University is about 40 minutes. Maybe 35 when you speed down the highways in your Ford Focus. It was a route I became deeply familiar with in 2008. My now-husband was studying to be an engineer, and I was getting a communications degree I had no clue what to do with. We’d spend hours together watching stupid comedies in his dorm room before I would sneak out to try to make it back before the 10 PM Baptist curfew. I spent those autumn trips diving into albums, but the one I always came back to was Death Cab for Cutie’s Transatlanticism. I would queue up the title track as I started the drive, but I always slowed my car down the second it turned to “Passenger Seat.” As if obeying the song, I would roll the windows down and watch the deer of the campus fields look up at my headlights before returning to their indifferent grazing. The smell of crisp autumn leaves and bummed American Spirits would flood my car as I made my way through the empty streets. Then, once the song was over, I would hit repeat. 

Death Cab would come to play a big part in those early months of our relationship. He even asked me out with a ticket to their Narrow Stairs show, and if he judged me for crying throughout the set, he never showed it. This year will mark our 14th year of marriage, and with that comes 14 years of changes, most of which are good. We’re wildly different people than we were our freshman year in college. Yet the second I hear those opening piano keys, I’m back on the road in my busted Focus, smiling as the leaves fall down around the deer of the field. 

– Lindsay Fickas


Less Than Jake – “The Rest of My Life” 

When I was in middle school, I had a big crush on one of my neighbors. We’d hang out a lot, but things never really took a romantic turn. Whenever anything happened that reinforced the fact that we’d likely never be a couple—be it her getting a new boyfriend or saying that she wasn’t interested in hanging on a particular day—I’d go into my room and blast this song on loop while fantasizing about moving to a different neighborhood where there was a neighbor who loved me back. I would never have admitted this back then—both because it’s very pathetic and because my appreciation of “The Rest of My Life” ran counter to my stance that Less Than Jake were traitors for abandoning ska to make milquetoast pop-punk—but now I’m ready to tell the truth. Also, for the record, I don’t think I ever actually believed what I was saying about Less Than Jake being traitors for their stylistic shifts; it’s just the sort of thing that’s fun to say when you’re 13 (though I was hyped when GNV FLA came out and they brought the horns back). 

– Josh Ejnes 


Talking Heads – “This Must Be the Place (Naïve Melody)” 

In the summer of 2014, I lived in Richmond, Virginia. My wife and I had been married for almost 3 years, and we had just moved away from Denver in order to reinvent our lives in a new city. We lived in Richmond’s Church Hill neighborhood, and I was making 26 thousand dollars a year working for a non-profit. We had no money, no friends (because we were in a new city), and no real idea about the future and what shape it would take. Spotify had recently gotten a real hold on me, and I was rediscovering my love of making playlists. One playlist I made that summer was just 60 minutes of different covers of “This Must Be The Place.” I remember us dancing around our small apartment, trying desperately to figure out how to execute the logistics of “sing into my mouth.” I don’t know, man. Every year with Kate, I think I understand that song more and work to be in love that way even more deeply. Will you love me till my heart stops? Love me till I’m dead. Eyes that light up, eyes look through you. Cover up the blank spots, hit me on the head.

– Ben Sooy


Ezra Furman – “I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend”

Perhaps it’s a bit obvious to use this song to ask out a girl, but I’ve never been one to catch subtlety, so when I got a message from my future wife with this song in it, I, of course, still had to be sure she was saying what I thought she was. Unfamiliar with Ezra Furman, a transgender woman making punk that falls between Laura Jane Grace and PUP, I quickly looked up the lyrics to the song. After all, you don’t want to accidentally miss that the third verse could be sarcastic and mean the opposite of what it appears on its face. Thankfully, I found no such thing and quickly said yes as I read the lyrics, “That’s right, little old me, I want to be your girlfriend and blow your mind each night when you come home.” Subtle, it was not. Having gotten caught up in the energy of the moment, I didn’t actually listen to the song and wouldn’t for weeks. Less than a year later, I married the girl. I’m happy to call myself a fan of Ezra Furman’s now, with this song being particularly heartwarming as a moment I can share with my wife every time it comes up on a playlist or album listen. 

– Noëlle Midnight


Car Seat Headrest – “Beach-Life-In-Death” Live at the Royale in Boston

On this day in 2019, I was staring at Will Toledo.

In the second semester of my sophomore year of college, I was fresh off a breakup when my friend threw out that we should see Car Seat Headrest when they came through Boston. It was an immediate ‘yes’ for three reasons: I love my friend and would do whatever with them, Car Seat Headrest was the most important band to me in college, and I needed to hear “Beach-Life-In-Death” live. The show was on Valentine’s Day. I don’t remember much of the show, honestly. I remember the opener sucked, I remember a crowd surfer dropping directly into my friend’s arms, and I remember piles of college kids smoking Golds outside. But what I remember most fondly is waiting for “Beach-Life-In-Death.” I think it’s still my favorite song, but back then, it felt so big and so meaningful (it still does, so I guess that’s why it’s still my favorite). Which brings me back to the beginning of this. On this day in 2019, I was staring at Will Toledo, washed in a pink glow, with my friend, screaming the lyrics to my favorite song together. Love is so beautiful. 

– Caro Alt


Sufjan Stevens – “Decatur, or, Round of Applause for Your Stepmother!”

For someone who has largely built their life around music, I can’t make a playlist to save my life. I rarely listen to songs outside the context of albums, and if someone passes me the aux cable, Lord have mercy on the hapless souls trapped in the car with me: the vibes will be chaotic. If I were a wedding DJ, I’d have people bolting for the fire exits.

My wife Ellie learned this the summer of our first year dating. I flew out to visit her at her family’s place in Minnesota, and we decided to take a day trip to Duluth. We set out before sunrise, and since she was driving, she tasked me with music duties, requesting “peaceful early morning vibes,” which started out okay! Indie folk à la Gregory Alan Isakov, Iron & Wine, The Head and the Heart, First Aid Kit, coffee shop core (non-derogatory). And then I queued up a little ditty from Illinois by Sufjan Stevens: “Decatur, Or, Round of Applause for Your Stepmother!” In my mind, this was a perfect song for a Midwest road trip, but Ellie burst out laughing as soon as she heard that perky banjo and accordion cutting through the predawn tranquility. It’s an obvious misstep in retrospect, as we went from sweet whispery love songs to goofy rhymes about chickenmobiles and making amends with your stepmom. In any case, the vibes were totally off the rails from there; I unearthed our collaborative playlist on Spotify, and somehow, we ended up at “Guilty Cubicles,” a moody post-rock instrumental from Broken Social Scene’s debut.

This began a tradition of sabotaging drives by dropping “Decatur” in the middle of completely incompatible queues (it’s sort of my version of Rickrolling, specifically for my wife). Eight years later, it’s a sweet way to remember one of my favorite days with Ellie, just driving up the North Shore, sharing our favorite songs, and stopping at every lighthouse we could find.

– Nick Webber


Insane Clown Posse – “The Nedan Game” 

TikTok has transformed my girlfriend into a Juggalette, which means she has pushed all her chips in on the court jesters of horrorcore, the Insane Clown Posse. How did this happen, you say? The culprit lies in the freshly painted face that goes by the username @carissadid. Carissa is a sight to behold as she metamorphosizes from human into clown while rapping seamlessly to a different ICP song in each video. I’m afraid a spell has been cast abound my girlfriend, as she has watched far too many of her posts and is past saving at this point. I fear one day I may be ambushed in my sleep with Violent J’s face paint on me or, even worse, Shaggy 2 Dope’s. 

The Neden Game,” which is my girlfriend’s favorite ICP song, is a crude humor spoof of the show The Dating Game. The track plays over in my head repeatedly like I’m trapped in some kind of vulgar clown P.O.W. camp that would have had Bozo turn in his red nose and oversized shoes. The song sounds like it would play at frat parties in between keg stands for degenerates. If you see me at this year's Gathering of the Juggalos festival, I have been held against my will in a Liam Neeson Taken-type situation. If this happens, please, someone call the F.B.I.

– David Williams


The Sidekicks – “A Short Dance” + “Don’t Feel Like Dancing”

For a relationship that’s more or less founded on a shared love of music, I find it odd that my girlfriend and I don’t have “a song.” There is no single piece of music that we can point to as “ours,” on the contrary, it’s more like we have the opposite problem: there have been far too many songs that feel like connective tissue throughout our three years together. I suppose when faced with hundreds of possible songs, dozens of back-and-forth playlists, and a seemingly unending spool of bands we’ve bonded over, it becomes hard to pare it down to just one entry. 

Thus, this is but one pit stop in a densely populated field: the one-two punch of “A Short Dance” and “Don’t Feel Like Dancing” by The Sidekicks. Starting with the 48-second prelude, “A Short Dance,” is how so many relationships start: trepidatious and unsure–a nervous and unshakable energy as you psych yourself up for the big moment. You can imagine all the possible futures just as quickly as you can picture the stinging rejection. Either way, you find the courage to accept your fate and approach this person, ready for any outcome. 

In comes “Don’t Feel Like Dancing,” a joyous explosion of love and adoration. Over sun-splotched major chords, Steve Ciolek explains how nothing in life (not dancing, not flowers, not even ridiculing dudes!) is as sweet as when you’re experiencing them with your person. Avoid the pit of nostalgia! Sip that mimosa! Fucking boogie! You can make excuses all you want; you’re gonna get pulled onto the dance floor no matter what.

– Taylor Grimes


Pup Punk – “My Real Girlfriend”

The first thing my now-partner ever said to me was, “Hey, nice shirt!” The second thing she ever said to me was a suicide pass. Pointing at her sister, she said, “Do you think we’re twins?” I correctly answered, “No?” and it’s been a love story ever since.

In the first 18 months of knowing her, we had 20 in-person days together. We met while I was briefly in Minnesota for a conference, but otherwise, I was studying abroad in France. We hit it off immediately, sending each other a playlist less than 24 hours after meeting (mine to her, hers to me) and dooming ourselves to a year and a half of extra-long distance FaceTime calls.

Nowadays, we’re much closer—just a short 8-hour drive away or 4 hours of airport and plane time! While we were on different continents, telling our friends about each other felt very much like this song: “She’s a model, you don’t know her // She lives in Minnesota where it’s colder // I’m in love and you’re not // My real girlfriend’s really hot.” The catch is she is really real—I swear! We have pictures together!

I look back on that time when we were so far apart and wonder how we ever did it. Ultimately, what made it possible, and what makes our relationship so strong, is complementary knowledge of pop-punk and emo music. That, and a strong foundation of mutual respect and shared love for all forms of music and humor or whatever.

– Braden Allmond


David Gray – “Please Forgive Me” 

“We don’t have A Song, do we??” I had to text Emily.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I don’t think we do??? I’m ashamed..” she replied.

Surprising, and ironic, because so much of what we love about each other started with our taste in music. Hers isn’t exactly like mine, nor vice versa. But we love many of the same things, and we’ve opened each others’ worlds to new and different music. I now know about Modest Mouse’s deeper cuts, and she now knows whether ’91 or ’84 was a better year for the Grateful Dead (it’s ’91).

It’s a new relationship, though moving very quickly (we’ll be roommates in May!), and it has been built on vulnerability and honesty. Communication has been the number one factor in the initial success and comfort of our relationship. For two people who haven’t had the most luck in the past, this feels like our first adult relationship. We both feel totally at peace and have the liberty to speak our minds and lay bare our vulnerabilities.

“I will ALWAYS think of you sending me ‘Please Forgive Me’ by David Gray but idk if it’s *our* song. Just one of the first moments I remember being like oh shit, I’m so cooked,” she said.

“Please Forgive Me” is a song about falling deeply in love with someone fast and having to ask their forgiveness because you’re acting like an absolute freak. And that’s just perfect for us.

“Feels like lightning running through my veins / every time I look at you.”

– Caleb Doyle


Alanis Morissette – “You Oughta Know”

There are pros and cons to every romantic entanglement. With this one in particular, the pros were that he had fantastic music taste and was very funny, while the cons were that he refused to sing karaoke and was cheating on me. While we were together, he was in a Jagged Little Pill phase, and for a few weeks, we’d blast it every time we drove in his car. He, karaoke-averse, was always taunting me, a karaoke devotee, with a potential pick—“Okay, I think I’d actually do this one”—and “You Oughta Know” was his latest false promise. “I’d go up to a guy with a girl and sing ‘and are you thinking of me when you f— her” in his face as a bit,” he’d joke, flipping his hair. 

Well, you mess with the cat, you get the claws, I think to myself in the karaoke bar a few months ago in Brooklyn, stepping up to finally lay his alleged pick in its grave. “And every time I scratch my nails down someone else’s back, I hope you feel it,” I yelp to the room full of starry-eyed lesbians. Karaoke’s supposed to be light, and perhaps a little too much real rage seeped into my performance, but I think Alanis would understand. I hope he can’t hear her without feeling like shit, and I hope he’s thinking of me when….nvm.

– Katie Hayes


Antarctigo Vespucci– “Impossible to Place” 

My relationship with Claire is full of false starts. We kept matching on Tinder for years as I reset my account, and finally went on two good dates at the start of our junior year in film school, which resulted in me ghosting her and dating another girl for a month. 

Right after ending that interim relationship, I was out to dinner with my friends and scrolled on Instagram to see a photo of Claire. My spirit floated at the sight of her gentle smile, her beautiful black hair, and those sparkling eyes behind her tortoiseshell glasses, and I knew I wanted to rest my head against her leg forever. Two days later, we were on a kinda-first-kinda-third date for coffee. She viewed it as a revenge date, a chance to rub it in my face that she’d gotten picked for our film school's elite Spring Break trip to LA, but it ended with us cuddled up on my twin-size bed, showing her Star Wars for the first time. On the way from coffee, we stopped in my apartment's mailroom to pick up my copy of Love in the Time of Email, Antarctigo Vespucci’s sophomore record. As we watched Star Wars, I murmured the chorus of Antarctigo Vespucci LP1 highlight, “Impossible to Place,” Chris Farren’s soft plea to his wife to “stay, stay around me / for the evening.” Claire asked what I was singing, and so, for the first of hundreds of times, we listened to the song together. 

If you asked me what I feel for Claire, I would sputter and stammer that she’s my best friend, that she’s the person who makes me laugh the most, and that she has a mind I adore. But none of those words really captures the feeling. 

When she left the morning after our first/third date, I posted a Snapchat story of me holding up Love in the Time of Email with the caption, “If she doesn’t make you feel like an Antarctigo Vespucci song, she isn’t the one.” When Claire asked if that was about her, I lied and said it was a general statement. But the truth is that “Impossible to Place,” with those layers of angelic vocals on the bridge, Jeff Rosenstock’s lackadaisical chiming guitar riff, and the longing in Chris Farren’s voice, is the only place I’ve been able to pin down the pure essence of what feels like to love Claire. 

– Lillian Weber


KISS – “I Was Made For Lovin’ You”

I have talked about KISS way too many times for an indie/emo-leaning blog, and I thank Taylor for letting me get in my zone once again here. It is the biggest cultural phenomenon that I am the most in love with, so it finds its way into all aspects of my life, including the romantic ones. But I won’t be talking about “Bang Bang You,” “Take It Off,” or “Let’s Put The X In Sex.” The story goes that Paul Stanley wrote “I Was Made For Lovin’ You” and brought it to Gene Simmons, with Stanley singing the dark and sensual verses and sticking Simmons with the “do do do do do do do do do” chorus backing vocals. It’s a divisive song among the KISS Army; some fans love and embrace it, as it was a number-one charting hit in multiple countries (but only as high as 50 in the States). Some fans disown its disco flavor, the Dynasty album it came from, and nearly everything that followed for the next 40 years. It was teased in the fantastic Detroit Rock City film, released in 1999 and taking place in 1978, where a character named Christine, played by Natasha Lyonne, notes, “[It’s] so big right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if KISS made a fuckin’ disco song.”

I saw KISS for the first time in 2017 and took my then nine-months girlfriend, despite her previous disdain for the band due to an annoying Ace Frehley obsessive from her high school. From one night, she was a convert, if maybe initially just being considerate to my obsession. And she’s done just that for the last eight years, standing by my side through every phase and fixation, listening to my diatribes about how Gene tried to reunite The Beatles on his 1978 solo album, and how Paul was clearly lipsynching on the End Of The Road tour, but I suppose it’s better than him sounding like shit. I saw KISS six more times on that tour between 2019 and 2023, and she patiently accompanied me to half of them. We spent my 27th birthday in Las Vegas at the KISSWorld exhibit and mini golf course at the Rio Hotel & Casino. Truly, we’ve shared so many bands, songs, and musical moments in our relationship that it feels unfair to focus on only my dumb one. Music is the foundation that brought us together in the first place, from a year of Tumblr DMs about Hostage Calm and Japandroids to finally meeting at Riot Fest 2016. But she’s my Dr. Love, she’s hotter than Hell, and she’s my rock and my roll, all nite, all the way. I was made for lovin’ her. Do do do do do do do do do.

– Logan Archer Mounts


Amber Run – “I Found”

“Do you like him?”

My best friend Kris and I were sitting in my grad school apartment, cross-legged on my bed. She had just asked me the above question, and I, though embarrassed, admitted that I did, in fact, have feelings for the boy in question. I mean, Kris didn’t even need to ask; it was more that I just needed to admit to my crush aloud. (Everybody could tell. It was really, really obvious.)

A few weeks later, I handed my crush a letter scribbled on notebook paper. I was way too nervous to try to confess out loud, so I let this missive do the talking for me. You can imagine the beaming joy that washed over me when he admitted his mutual feelings. We were already close friends, but neither of us had ever talked about the obvious chemistry and bond that we had. 

After that day, we would spend hours together in a rickety car (borrowed from a generous friend), driving through the Florida dunes at night. We talked about anything and everything and would hit the Whataburger drive-thru for fries and malts afterward. It was a glorious and happy season. On those drives, we would take turns picking music to listen to, and one of my favorites was the gorgeous and moving “I Found” by Amber Run. The lyrics describe finding love “where it wasn’t supposed to be / Right in front of me.” It fits our relationship so perfectly, and I still smile whenever I put it on. My favorite version of this song is their Mahogany Session, which features the London Contemporary Voices. It’s recorded a cappella in a cathedral, and the melancholy beauty of this song is captured so perfectly. 

We found love right in front of us and kept it - this May marks our seventh year of marriage.

– Britta Joseph


The Beatles – “I Will”

Forgive me for writing more about the Beatles in the year of our Lord Paul twenty twenty-five. The world may be exhausted from ceaselessly hearing about how good these four fuckers were as a band, but fortunately for my last.fm scrobbles, I’m far from exhausted. “I Will,” despite being slightly buried towards the tail end of The White Album’s first disc, is far from a deep cut. It’s my favorite Beatles ballad (there’s no need to get started on other qualifiers) and also the second half of my favorite Beatles sequencing choice. Immediately following a lowdown bluesy number about, um, mid-highway exhibitionism is one of the sweetest love songs ever laid to tape.

It bears a simple conceit. “Love you whenever we’re together, love you when we’re apart.” Well, yeah, that’s what love already is. Most songwriters wouldn’t get credit for laying out obvious facts with a pleased grin plastered on their Liverpudlian face. In McCartney’s words, facts are utterly ignorable. He merely caught a glimpse of the song’s subject — that was enough for a galactic force of love to obliterate him. The simplicity is necessary. Sometimes, you’re so smitten that even the most glaring truths need to be reiterated; sometimes, it’s all that grounds you. The plainspokenness of the song is cradled by softly strummed intervals and a capella vocals sneaking into the bass register. The love depicted is unadorned with instrumentation to match.

Before I even met my partner, I would sing this song nonstop. Queuing up the 2018 White Album mix in full aside, “I Will” played in my daydreams and trickled from the clouds. When I was singing it, my voice belonged to the song and to whomever might one day hear me. In the absence of a lover’s song to fill the air, I was unconsciously hellbent on providing the air with an ample supply of music. At least the oxygen and I could enjoy it together. After falling in love, the song didn’t leave my mind, but it doesn’t occupy the air nearly as often. There is someone else’s song. The constant dawning of romance is null and void. It never really mattered; I will always feel the same. Sing it loud so I can hear you.

– Aly Eleanor

The Long & Winding End of the Road: How KISS Spent Four Years Saying Goodbye for the Second Time

On March 1, 2023, the hard rock institution KISS announced they would perform just 50 concerts this year before turning in their iconic stage show for good. They’re celebrating a half-century as an active group and finishing up the last leg of their ‘End Of The Road’ world tour, which began in 2019. KISS’ final live performances, closing out the ‘Countdown’ leg, will be on December 1st & 2nd at Madison Square Garden on their home turf of New York City. But KISS getting to this point has not been particularly straightforward or well-received. The band has long had their critics from all angles, whether that’s being perceived as a joke band in makeup with bad music, the embodiment of satan, or just a rock and roll cash cow. Most recently, the fact that this is their second farewell tour (and that it has taken four years to complete) has left some fans tired out. Fifty years as a band isn’t something that gets to happen to everybody, though. To understand what it means for KISS to have hit that milestone, it’s crucial that we go all the way back to the beginning. 

January 30th, 1973. A small club in Queens, New York, called Popcorn, later renamed Coventry, is about to host the very first performances of the hottest band in the world. The lineup is as follows: George Criscuola, the “Catman” behind the drums known as Peter Criss. Stanley Eisen, the flamboyant “Starchild” frontman known as Paul Stanley. Paul Frehley on lead guitar, seemingly from another dimension that gave him his name, “Spaceman” Ace Frehley. And Chaim Witz, the decades-long, fire-breathing, blood-spitting “Demon” bassist known as Gene Simmons. Costumed and made up in a way that’s only reminiscent of how we’ve seen them in their peak periods, KISS play the first live chords of their career. “Deuce,” a Simmons-penned tune, opens the first and second sets of the night. This was the first, but certainly not the last time “Deuce” would make a KISS setlist.

November 30th, 2022. The second to last show of the ‘End Of The Road’ tour’s third year. The band takes the stage at Tokyo Dome, where they’ve been performing in Japan since 1997. Simmons takes the mic for “Deuce” once again. According to the concert archival website Setlist.fm, KISS has performed the tune 1,513 times since 1973. It is their ninth most-played song, only 21 plays behind the 1983 anthem “Lick It Up” in the number eight spot. If you know one thing about KISS, you may have already guessed the number one spot goes to “Rock And Roll All Nite,” which has garnered an impressive 2,145 plays since 1975.

Stanley introduces “Deuce” to the estimated 32,000 Tokyo natives, noting this is from the very first album, 1974’s KISS. But casual fans may not know that Criss and Frehley are no longer on stage with the band, despite archival footage being shown during the performance where they’re both featured. They left the band around the same time twice over, first in the early ‘80s when KISS’ success was at its lowest and the tensions were at their highest. Then, again after the original lineup reunion tours that lasted through the beginning of the 2000s. Donning the “Catman” and “Spaceman”  makeup at the Tokyo Dome are Eric Singer and Tommy Thayer, respectively, who make up half of the longest-running lineup in the band’s history.

As early as 2002, Singer and Thayer have caused controversy among the loud and proud KISS Army by adopting their predecessors’ personas. The characters that the original band created were meant to be reflections of their personalities, not just interchangeable identities. This is why, in 1980 and 1982, new drummer Eric Carr (born Paul Charles Caravello) and guitarist Vinnie Vincent (born Vincent John Cusano) created their own – the Fox and the Ankh Warrior – until the entire band left the makeup behind for 12 years in 1983. For me personally, I take no umbrage to Singer and Thayer in makeup for a couple of reasons. Firstly, they are essentially just doing a job. Don’t get me wrong, they’re both incredible players and do justice to the KISS brand; their interpretations of the “100,000 Years” and “Cold Gin” drum and guitar solos from 1975’s landmark Alive! album are played exceptionally to this day. To me it’s like James Bond or Doctor Who, albeit more of a long-form tenure that can evolve as necessary. But this leaves the conversation open for what happens after KISS ceases to exist as a touring unit.

Many people have speculated there will be a “KISS 2.0” in the future, with younger musicians wearing the makeup and keeping the music alive in venues across the world. This would be different from the millions of Beatles or Guns N’ Roses tribute acts in every town, as the original band members would still be involved. The rumor has been that KISS will audition and hire hopefuls themselves, putting the official stamp of approval on whoever is out on that stage. In the same way that new casts come and go in Broadway musicals, KISS might be the first rock group to achieve that feat – touring classic rock lineups with zero original members notwithstanding. So while it may be the ‘End Of The Road’ for KISS themselves this year, it may be the start of a new road for some up-and-coming rockstars.

Secondly, if these guys didn’t come in to back up Simmons and Stanley, I might not have seen the six KISS concerts I’ve been lucky enough to attend. If all the personnel lore erupted after 2002, and that was truly KISS’ final farewell, there would be no opportunities for me to experience “the Hottest show on Earth” in my formative years. Thankfully, I’ve had six of them up to this point, five of them on the ‘End Of The Road’ tour, and potentially two more in the ‘Countdown’ leg.

September 19th, 2018. After performing on America’s Got Talent, KISS officially announced the tour would begin in February of the following year (they circled back to a big-broadcast breaking news stunt with Howard Stern to promote this final 2023 leg). They promised to “play every city they’ve ever played one more time,” and “once we hit yours, that’s it.” Most rock fans and critics alike know how these promises go. Despite the tour’s length, KISS did pull off not repeating any specific venues, except for a few locations where they held two-night residencies. But by the time the ‘Countdown’ leg is over this year, there will have been some crossover as they’ve already played MSG in New York and Centre Bell in Montreal, among others.

During a performance at their yearly KISS Kruise in November 2019, they announced the final show would take place on July 17, 2021. So you factor in an entire planet’s worth of cities to attend, with some breaks in between, a little over two years sounds like a respectable timeline for a farewell tour. On March 10th, 2020, KISS performed their last concert before the lockdown in Lubbock, Texas.

KISS spent the height of the pandemic like any reasonable and responsible group of industry professionals: live-streaming their ‘End Of The Road’ stage show from Dubai. Somewhat cleverly titled “KISS 2020 Goodbye,” the concert featured a documentary about the band traveling to the United Arab Emirates during the pandemic and what it meant for them to be performing the concert. It was a decent performance that provided some respite from the outside world at that time. However, at the time of this publication, fans have still not received their merchandise packages from the concert. The band resumed touring in Mansfield, Massachusetts, on August 18th, 2021.

A sentiment amongst the KISS Army throughout all of this has been, “how can we miss you if you never go away?” Granted, the COVID-19 pandemic doubling the tour’s timeline was unexpected, but it also seemed there were way more shows on the books post-vaccine than pre-vaccine. These feelings may have affected the band’s cancellation of a Las Vegas residency in early 2022. The truth of the matter is, no matter how many times I see the same tour with the same songs with the same solos, I will miss KISS when they stop playing big shows. I won’t pretend that, even after the sometimes frustrating ‘Road’ we’ve been driving down, I didn’t get a little emotional once the ‘Countdown’ leg was revealed and set in stone. Even in repetition, it’s unlike any rock concert I’ve ever seen. The music is genuinely powerful, the guys are having a good time playing, and the crowd continues to lick it up after all these years. An important asterisk here lies the careful words of Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley, though: that KISS is ending as a touring unit. So the opportunities for one-offs are still on the table, theoretically. From an optics standpoint, I think it would be incredibly unfair to pull something like that.

And let’s not stray away from the fact that these two guys are now officially over 70 years old. As good shape as they’re in, they won’t be able to do this forever. In 2021, Paul Stanley’s longtime guitar tech Francis Stueber passed away during the tour from a COVID exposure. In an already brutal 2023, we’ve lost the likes of Jeff Beck, David Crosby, and Ozzy Osborne finally announced his potential retirement due to health concerns. KISS has no reason to push themselves. Lemmy Kilmister of Motörhead played his last show 17 days before he died. It is possible if he had taken a stage sabbatical earlier, there could have been another album or even a chance to announce a final tour. 

KISS has nothing to prove now that they’ve crossed the 50-year mark, which some fans speculate is the only reason the tour has gone on this long. They’ve made their place in rock and roll history, and it’s been well-deserved and diligently worked for over their five decades. The old adage “Stop while you’re ahead” could have applied to KISS in 1977, 1997, or even in 2009. I think we should treasure the last 50 years and be thankful it’s ending at an amicable conclusion, not a forced halt. You can rock and roll all night and party every day, but after five decades, it’s going to take a toll on you somehow. So to my favorite hard rock band on the planet, thanks for all that you’ve provided. But please, after December, stop while you’re ahead.


Logan Archer Mounts once almost got kicked out of Warped Tour for doing the Disturbed scream during a band’s acoustic set. He currently lives in Rolling Meadows, IL, but tells everyone he lives in Palatine.