For a night, Ozzy, Kiss belong to clubs

Spencer Patterson

Monday, March 17, 2003 | 8:21 a.m.

Mystique. In the world of heavy metal, having it can be the difference between runaway success and anonymity.

For years, both Kiss and Ozzy Osbourne had it in spades.

Call Kiss' shtick campy if you want, but the leather-clad quartet was considered quite mysterious at the height of their popularity in the 1970s. Appearances hidden behind painted faces, the four Kiss men became the gold standard for live, often frightening, theatrics in rock music.

As for Ozzy, he wasn't just spooky; he was a downright scary customer during most of the 1970s and '80s. From his earliest days in gloomy Black Sabbath, Ozzy gradually assembled a resume of darkness and debauchery that had parents of teenagers worldwide shaking in their boots.

And then somewhere along the way, both acts sacrificed that hard-earned mystique.

For Kiss, it happened in 1983, when the band peeled back its makeup and revealed itself for the first time. Though the move resulted in a short-term boost in interest, the end result stripped away the aura of invincibility the band had once enjoyed. Today the band has returned to wearing makeup onstage.

Ozzy nearly finished his musical career with his reputation intact. That is, until the former "Prince of Darkness" embarked on a second career, starring in his own reality television show. Overnight, Osbourne was transformed into a stumbling, mumbling fiftysomething.

Over the weekend, Las Vegas got to see yet another layer stripped away -- the two acts' large-scale stadium setups -- as both made rare club appearances, Ozzy at The Joint at the Hard Rock Hotel on Friday night and Kiss at Rain in the Desert at the Palms Sunday night.

In both cases, the music would have to stand on its own.

Even before Ozzy took the stage on Friday, evidence of "The Osbournes" far-reaching appeal abounded. The near-capacity crowd of 1,900 appeared strangely divided between longtime fans of the singer's music and followers of the MTV series (never before have so many collared shirts been spotted at an Ozzy Osbourne concert).

A pre-show entrance by two of the TV program's other stars, Ozzy's wife, Sharon, and son, Jack, created almost as much buzz upstairs at The Joint as the show that followed.

Kicking off with twin Black Sabbath classics "Paranoid" and "War Pigs," Ozzy immediately assuaged doubts about his voice. Despite his difficult-to-comprehend speaking style on "The Osbournes," his vocals carried clearly for most of the night before waning slightly toward the end of the 90-minute performance.

The 54-year-old Osbourne kept his energy level high throughout, and it appeared to take a definite toll on him. By the close of his 14-song set, he began gripping his microphone with both hands, seemingly using it to maintain his balance. He also looked unsteady as he made his way around the stage on a couple of occasions.

Surprisingly, most of the night's highlights were provided not by Ozzy, but by his bandmates, specifically the two hulking figures bookending him on either side of the stage: guitarist Zakk Wylde and bassist Robert Trujillo.

Looking as if they escaped from a pro-wrestling cage match, imposing duo whipped their long hair in circles, while adding much-needed punch to such Ozzy standards as "Mr. Crowley," "Suicide Solution" and the predictable "Crazy Train" encore.

The show was the last for Trujillo as a member of Osbourne's band before the bassist becomes the newest full-time member of Metallica. Ozzy took a moment to mark the occasion, and hinted at a possible "player to be named later" coming his way in rock's version of a sports trade.

"It's his last gig with us tonight. He's going to join Metallica. And guess what? We're getting their bassist, Jason," Ozzy said, referring to departed Metallica bassist Jason Newstead,

Just about everything else Ozzy said was heavily laced with the F-word, as in, "You're not (bleeping) loud enough for the Ozzman" or "I can't (bleeping hear you)."

If Ozzy seemed out of his element performing in a small venue, imagine how Kiss must have felt playing not only before a crowd of 1,600, but doing so without the aid of any pyrotechnics.

Reportedly, the band was informed hours before its show of a final decision to forego the use of fire onstage, though you would never have guessed anything was out of the ordinary listening to the strong set that followed.

Last week bassist Gene Simmons said Kiss was coming to Las Vegas to "flex its musical muscles" and it did just that, running through a fiery set clocking in just under two hours.

Much to the delight of the many diehard fans in attendance at the sold-out concert -- several of whom showed up in full Kiss body armor and makeup -- the quartet generated tremendous energy throughout, despite having flown in directly after a gig in Tokyo.

"We just got off an airplane from Tokyo, and they told us, 'It's impossible. You guys can't pull this off,' " singer and rhythm guitarist Paul Stanley said at the outset. "Well, watch this."

Decked out in old-school 1970s-era Kiss gear, Simmons, Stanley, drummer Peter Criss and lead guitarist Tommy Thayer tore through a hits-heavy package that included "Lick it Up," "Calling Dr. Love," and "Love Gun," sprinkled with fan favorites like "Firehouse," "Cold Gin" and "Black Diamond."

"Detroit Rock City" and "Rock and Roll All Night" capped off a three-song encore that also featured an underwhelming version of Criss' ballad "Beth," complete with cheesy pumped-in orchestration.

Though Stanley (the band's "Star Child" character) -- whose trademark falsetto remains forceful as ever -- and Simmons (the "Demon") remain the band's focal points onstage, Kiss' other two members deserved special recognition on this night.

Criss' relentless, machine-gun style powered the band through every number, making it easy to understand why fans were outraged when Kiss toured briefly without him in 2001.

And Thayer, the only member who was not part of the original Kiss lineup, handled his guitar leads as if he'd rehearsed them with his bandmates for 30 years, making it easy to understand why fans barely batted an eye when Ace Frehley recently left the band.

It may not have been the full-on Kiss experience, but it did go a long way toward proving that even without their old mystique, some bands can still rise to a challenge.