When Ace Frehley saved a Blues Brothers show

In the latter half of the 1970s KISS were on top of the world. The band members enjoyed their spoils as much as they could. For lead guitarist Ace Frehley, that usually entailed going to a party or some sort. This is how he first met John Belushi.

Belushi was a rising star in his own right. The National Lampoon movies from 1973-74 were successful (especially Animal House), and Belushi went on to become one of the biggest stars from the several first seasons of Saturday Night Live after the TV show debuted in 1975. He developed a series of characters on the show, and this is also where The Blues Brothers were born.

Belushi and Dan Akroyd performed skits and musical numbers alongside the SNL band. The popularity of these skits, as well as the frontmen’s genuine love of the material they performed, led them to hire musicians to form a proper band to play a few shows. They were successful enough to keep going. They would end up releasing several records, play several more shows than they had envisioned, and then there’s the self-titled legendary movie which saw them reach worldwide fame.

A Blues Brothers performance from Saturday Night Life in 1978.

Belushi enjoyed his spoils as much as he could, which usually entailed going to a party of some sort. This is how he first met Ace Frehley. The two of them initially met at KISS drummer Peter Criss’ house.

In his 2011 autobiography No Regrets, Frehley recalls that they hit it off enormously. He had “just scored some really good shit” and shared it with Criss’ house guests while making wisecracks. “John seemed to be laughing at all my jokes,” he wrote. “I had been told for years that I was a funny guy, but to be making a professional comedian crack up felt even more rewarding.”

Frehley added that “there’s a strange bonding process that happens sometimes between two people when alcohol and drugs are involved. That bond was cemented that evening between me and John, and remained that way until the end. We were both famous and we both loved music and comedy, and we also enjoyed getting fucked up.”

Their connection was forged through shared interests, a similar sense of humour, and their joint penchant for indulgence. Before long Frehley was a regular guest in Belushi’s private bar, which he owned alongside Blues Brothers colleague Dan Akroyd. The venue was disguised as an abandoned building; they needed it because they couldn’t go out in New York City without being mobbed by fans. “Anyone driving or walking by on a Saturday night or Sunday morning might have thought it was a mob hangout, because the street would be filled with stretch limousines,” Frehley noted. “But in reality the bar was filled with the cast and guests of Saturday Night Live.”

He recalled evenings of serving as bartender, dancing on the bar and playing guitar with Belushi on drums as they invited women to strip for them. He admitted it was sheer indulgence but professed they both loved every minute.

A few years later, in 1980, the Blues Brothers movie had been released and they were massive. KISS had a lull in activities that summer. They played their lone US show that year in New York in May, and would not take off for a European and Australian tour until October. When Blues Brothers staged a massive show at the Palladium in New York City on 1 July 1980, there was plenty of time for Ace Frehley to attend. In fact, fellow KISS band members Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons were also there. The guest list was a who’s who as far as celebrities and stars from both the music and movie world.

The show consisted of two sets with an intermission in the middle. After the first set, the band took the customary break, but promoter Ron Delsener was panicking.

Ace Frehley was hanging out backstage with a date and all the other celebrities when word started spreading that no one was allowed in the dressing room to visit the band. Something seemed amiss.

“Suddenly the promoter, Ron Delsener, came running up to me,” Frehley wrote in his book. “He said, ‘Ace, we have a big problem.’ I asked him, ‘What’s up?’ Ron told me John didn’t want to go back out to do the second half of the show, supposedly because his voice was shot.’”

Frehley asked what he could do. Ron said, ‘Could you try talking to him? I told him you were here,’ Delsener paused, then gestured toward his date for the evening, a very tall and lovely New York model. ‘With your friend.’

‘Okay,’ Frehley said. ‘I’ll give it a shot.’

Apparently, Frehley was one of very few people that Belushi was willing to talk to at the time. As he proceeded to go upstairs to the dressing room, everyone who was milling around backstage looked up at him with amazement. “I could hear some of them saying under their breath, ‘How come Ace can get in to see John and Dan, and we can’t?’ Paul and Gene were also part of the crowd, looking confused. My model friend was wearing a very short skirt that night, and you could easily see her sheer underpants as we ascended the stairs, adding insult to injury to some of the onlookers.”

A minute later, Frehley was in the dressing room, asking John how he was feeling. He shook his head. ‘I don’t know, man. My fucking voice is shot. I can’t sing.”

“I just smiled,” Frehley recollects in his book. “His voice sounded terribly hoarse and I suggested he drink some hot tea with honey. While he sipped the tea I tried to cheer him up with a few stupid Ace jokes; then I hiked up my friend’s dress to lift his spirits. ‘Come on, John’ I said. ‘You don’t want to disappoint the Big Apple, do you?’ He just looked at me, his face filled with sadness and fatigue.

‘I don’t think I can do it, Ace.’

I chuckled. ‘Hey, nobody really gives a shit. Stop worrying. I can’t sing either. I just fake it most of the time, but I get out there anyway. Hell, Mick Jagger can’t sing. Dylan can’t sing. They just kinda talk the words. Everybody does it in rock’n’roll, especially when they’re on tour and they blow out their voice. Remember, the show must go on, and you’re a professional.’

John smiled. ‘I guess.’

‘Right. Just talk your way through it. Everyone out there loves you. It’ll be great!’

We joked around a little more and had a beer and did a few lines of coke. Slowly John’s mood began to change for the better. After a few more lines and a little female entertainment, John decided he would finish the show. I told John to knock ’em dead and I’d see him after the show. I left the dressing room smiling, and informed Delsener that the show would begin shortly. Ron was so thrilled he hugged me and said, ‘I can’t thank you enough. I guess that’s why they call you Ace. You really saved the fucking day. I owe you one, buddy!’”

Audio recording of the Palladium show. The audience was happily unaware of any drama during the intermission!

As the show continued, Belushi appeared on stage as though nothing had happened. Frehley would later comment that the moment backstage had displayed Belushi’s “sensitivity and insecurity. John wasn’t quite the egomaniac he appeared to be onstage.”

He went on to talk about his regret at refusing to meet Belushi in the winter of 1982. The comedian was in town briefly and wanted to hook up with the guitarist in the city, but Frehley was taking one of his regular breaks from partying and didn’t want to be around his friend’s bad influence at the time. After a few more laughs, Belushi gave up and decided to make other plans. He told Frehley he’d call when he got back from Los Angeles on the next run and said goodbye. That was the last time they spoke. A few weeks later Frehley was watching the news when he heard that Belushi had died of a drug overdose in Los Angeles.

“I was in complete shock; an overwhelming feeling of sadness came over me. I was never going to see him again” Frehley said. “John Belushi was a great guy and a gifted performer. I feel very lucky to have known him. His death was a tragedy and was the catalyst for me to clean up my act for several months afterward. […] He was unique. I miss him. I think everyone does.”

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