Heavens On Fire Part II: A Hard Rock Gem That Still Burns Bright
Alright, let’s talk about Heavens On Fire Part II by Kiss. Released in 1991 under Rasablanca Records, this album is pure hard rock energy straight outta the US. If you’re into face-melting riffs and raw vocals that hit like a punch to the gut, this one’s for ya. With Gene Simmons on bass (and some killer growls), Eric Carr keeping things tight on drums, Bruce Kulick shredding those guitar solos, and Paul Stanley owning the mic, it’s everything a rock fan could want.
Now, here’s the thing—I gotta shout out two tracks because they just stick with me. First up, “Love Gun.” Man, this song is like an adrenaline shot to your soul. The opening riff? Instant goosebumps. It’s got that classic Kiss vibe but feels fresh, like they knew exactly what fans wanted without phoning it in. You can tell Paul Stanley poured his heart into this track; his voice cracks through the mix like he means every damn word. And when the chorus kicks in? Pure chaos in the best way possible. This isn’t just music—it’s a call to arms.
Then there’s “Drum Solo.” Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking: "A drum solo? Really?" But trust me, Eric Carr doesn’t waste a second of your time. He turns the kit into a battlefield, hitting every beat like it owes him money. There’s something oddly emotional about it too—it’s not just flashy technique; it’s like he’s telling a story without words. By the end, you’re left breathless, wondering how someone can make percussion feel so alive.
The rest of the album? Solid as hell. Tracks like “I Still Love You” bring the emotion, while “Black Diamond” reminds you why Kiss has always been bigger than life. Even the bass solo from Gene Simmons sneaks in a moment of weird brilliance—you either love it or scratch your head, but hey, that’s Kiss for you.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to Heavens On Fire Part II now feels kinda bittersweet. It came out at a weird time for rock, right before grunge blew everything up. Bands like Nirvana were about to change the game, and albums like this almost felt like swan songs for an era. But maybe that’s why it hits different today. It’s not perfect, sure, but it’s real. Like, turn-it-up-loud-and-forget-your-problems real.
So, if you’ve never given this album a spin, do yourself a favor and crank it up. Just don’t blame me if your neighbors start complaining—they probably wouldn’t understand anyway.
