Once the true masters of mindless amped-up bombast and swaggering misogyny, with lyrics that were big and dumb, yet always fun, this album finds the band veering toward a pop flame and actually taking themselves seriously. Where once mighty excess and rowdy head-banging was the rule, Kiss have turned down the volume, becoming more economical and tuneful, sounding a little like Hall & Oates in face paint. Kiss don't take anything off on Unmasked -- unless you count Peter Criss. This is the group's last disc with the ornery stickman.