Rock and roll is rarely about subtlety. But when KISS released their Animalize album in 1984, they weren’t just shedding the iconic face paint—they were leaning into a decade defined by excess, spandex, and lyrics that would make a Victorian ghost faint. At the heart of that era sits a track that perfectly captures the band’s transition into the "unmasked" years. Kiss let’s put the x in sex isn’t just a song title; it’s a mission statement from a band that was fighting to stay relevant in a world dominated by Mötley Crüe and Ratt.
Paul Stanley has always been the primary architect of the band’s more melodic, pop-sensible hits. By the mid-80s, the "Starchild" was carrying a heavy load. Gene Simmons was off chasing movie roles and producing other bands, leaving Paul to steer the ship. This specific track, though actually released as a new song on the 1988 Smashes, Thrashes & Hits compilation, serves as a bridge between their heavy metal flirtations and the hair-metal dominance of the late 80s. It’s loud. It’s proud. It’s arguably one of the most "KISS" songs to ever exist without actually featuring a single drop of greasepaint.
Let's be real: the lyrics are ridiculous. "I’m a man, I’m no baby." "I’m a thief of hearts, and I’m not sorry." It’s pure bravado. Yet, there is a technicality to the production that most people overlook because they’re too busy laughing at the double entendres. The late 80s were a weird time for the band. They were trying to out-glam the glam rockers they had originally inspired.
The Production Pivot of the Late 1980s
The late eighties were a sonic arms race. If your drums didn't sound like a cannon going off in a cathedral, were you even recording a rock album? Kiss let’s put the x in sex features that massive, gated reverb snare that defined the decade. It’s a production choice that Paul Stanley has spoken about with mixed feelings over the years. In his autobiography, Face the Music: A Life Exposed, Stanley is candid about the band's struggle to find a consistent identity during this period. They were trying to fit into a mold they helped create, which is a bizarre psychological loop for any artist.
The music video is a whole other story. It’s a fever dream of high-contrast lighting, beautiful models, and Paul Stanley’s legendary chest hair. There’s something authentically human about the effort they put into it. They weren't coasting. They were working hard to be the biggest rock stars on the planet for the second time.
KISS was essentially competing with their own ghost. People wanted the demons and the fire-breathing, but the band wanted to be seen as legitimate musicians who didn't need the gimmicks. When you listen to the guitar work—specifically the hooks—it’s clear they still had the "it" factor. The riff is infectious. It’s the kind of song that gets stuck in your head during a workout and refuses to leave for three days. Honestly, it’s a testament to their songwriting prowess that they could take a concept as silly as "putting the x in sex" and turn it into a charting single.
💡 You might also like: Black Bear by Andrew Belle: Why This Song Still Hits So Hard
Why the Unmasked Era Divides the Fanbase
Talk to any "KISS Army" member and you'll get a lecture. Some swear by the 70s output—Destroyer, Love Gun, Alive!. To them, the 80s were a betrayal. But then there’s a whole generation of fans who first discovered the band through MTV. For these fans, kiss let’s put the x in sex represents the peak of the band’s "cool" phase.
- The 70s were about myth-making and comic book characters.
- The 80s were about the lifestyle: the parties, the fashion, and the sheer audacity of being a rock star.
It’s easy to dismiss the song as "filler" on a greatest hits album, but it actually performed quite well on the Billboard Mainstream Rock tracks. It peaked at number 13. That’s not a fluke. It happened because the song tapped into the zeitgeist of 1988. People wanted escapism. They wanted a front-man who could hit high notes and tell them that tonight was going to be legendary.
The guitar solo is worth a mention too. Bruce Kulick was the lead guitarist during this stretch, and his style was a stark contrast to Ace Frehley’s blues-based rock. Kulick brought a technical precision that the band needed to compete with the shredders of the era. He wasn't just playing notes; he was providing a sophisticated backbone to Paul’s flamboyant melodies.
The Lyrics: A Deep Dive into 80s Hedonism
We need to talk about the "X." What does it actually mean? In the context of the song, it’s about taking things to the limit. It’s about the "X-factor" of attraction. Or, more likely, it’s just a clever play on words that sounded provocative enough to get played on the radio while being vague enough to avoid a "Parental Advisory" sticker.
"Let's put the X in sex"
"Let's give it all we can"
"I'm a man, I'm no baby"
📖 Related: Billie Eilish Therefore I Am Explained: The Philosophy Behind the Mall Raid
It’s a declaration of maturity, however ironic that might seem given the subject matter. Paul Stanley’s vocal performance is top-tier here. He pushes his range, using that signature grit that made him one of the most recognizable voices in rock history. He sounds like he believes every word. That’s the secret sauce of KISS; even when the concept is over-the-top, they sell it with 100% conviction. If they didn't believe in it, we wouldn't either.
Behind the Scenes: The "Smashes, Thrashes & Hits" Sessions
When KISS went into the studio to record the two new tracks for their 1988 compilation—this song and "(You Make Me) Rock Hard"—the vibe was professional but pressured. The music industry was changing. Grunge was still a few years away, but the "hair metal" bubble was getting very full.
The band brought in Ron Nevison to produce. Nevison was a legend, having worked with Heart, Ozzy Osbourne, and Led Zeppelin. He was known for a "slick" sound. He polished the rough edges off KISS, which some fans hated, but it’s what made the songs work on the radio. The drums were tracked with a specific focus on that "thwack" sound that defined 1988. You can hear it in the way the song opens. It’s an immediate call to the dance floor—or the mosh pit, depending on how much hairspray you were wearing.
Interestingly, Gene Simmons' presence on these tracks is famously debated. While he appears in the video and is credited, many session historians suggest that the bass work on several 80s KISS tracks was actually handled by others, including Jean Beauvoir or Bruce Kulick himself, while Gene was busy filming movies like Runaway or Wanted: Dead or Alive. This internal friction is part of why kiss let’s put the x in sex feels so much like a Paul Stanley solo project under the KISS banner.
Legacy and Modern Reception
How does it hold up today? Surprisingly well, if you view it as a period piece. It’s a time capsule. When you play it today, you aren't just hearing a song; you're hearing the sound of 1988.
👉 See also: Bad For Me Lyrics Kevin Gates: The Messy Truth Behind the Song
Modern critics often point to this era as "the lost years," but that’s an unfair assessment. This was the era that kept the band alive. Without the success of songs like this and "Forever," KISS might have faded into obscurity long before the 1996 reunion tour. They proved they could survive without the makeup. They proved they were more than just a stage show.
There’s a certain campiness to it that modern audiences appreciate. In an age of hyper-serious indie music and overly engineered pop, there’s something refreshing about a band that just wants to talk about "putting the X in sex." It’s fun. It doesn't ask you to solve world hunger. It just asks you to turn up the volume and maybe wear some tighter jeans.
What Most People Get Wrong About This Track
A common misconception is that this song was a "failed" attempt to copy Poison or Bon Jovi. In reality, KISS had been doing this since 1974. They didn't copy the 80s aesthetic; they were the architects who paved the way for it. If there was no Paul Stanley, there would be no Bret Michaels.
Another myth is that the band hates this era. While they eventually went back to the makeup, Paul Stanley still speaks fondly of the "unmasked" years in interviews. It was a time of immense personal growth for him as a performer. He had to learn how to command a stage without a mask to hide behind. That vulnerability—even in a song as macho as this—is what makes the performance work.
Final Practical Takeaways for the KISS Enthusiast
If you're looking to dive deeper into this specific era of the band, don't just stop at the hits. The "unmasked" era is a treasure trove of hidden gems.
- Listen to the 1988 Remixes: The Smashes, Thrashes & Hits album also featured remixed versions of 70s classics. Comparing the 80s production on "I Love It Loud" to the original version shows you exactly how the band's sonic philosophy shifted.
- Watch the Long-Form Videos: Seek out the KISS: X-treme Close Up video. It provides context for the band's mindset during the late 80s and shows the grueling schedule they maintained.
- Analyze Bruce Kulick’s Technique: If you’re a guitar player, study the solo in this track. It’s a masterclass in using "shred" techniques while still serving the melody of the song.
- Contextualize the Catalog: Put this song in a playlist between Bon Jovi’s "Bad Medicine" and Mötley Crüe’s "Dr. Feelgood." You’ll hear how KISS was actually pushing a slightly harder, more aggressive edge than their contemporaries.
The reality of kiss let’s put the x in sex is that it represents a band refusing to go gently into that good night. They were older than the "new" kids on the block, but they had more energy and better hooks. It’s a loud, silly, brilliant piece of rock history that deserves more than a footnote.
Next time you hear it, don't just roll your eyes at the title. Listen to the way the harmony vocals kick in during the chorus. Listen to the precision of the rhythm section. Most of all, enjoy the fact that for four minutes, it’s still 1988, the hair is huge, and rock and roll is the only thing that matters.