The death of a rock icon always sends a tremor through the world, but the passing of Ace Frehley—the original “Spaceman” and legendary guitarist for KISS—has resulted in a seismic shock that goes beyond the music. Ace Frehley, a foundational figure whose unique style and swagger were inseparable from the band’s global phenomenon, died at the age of 74 on October 16, 2025, after a brain bleed suffered in a studio accident weeks earlier. He was surrounded by family in Morristown, New Jersey, when he finally passed, leaving behind a legacy of scorching riffs and indelible rock history.

However, the final chapter of his story has been complicated by a surprising revelation that has thrown the complex and often-strained relationships within the original KISS lineup into sharp relief: co-founder Paul Stanley, the “Starchild,” was not present at Frehley’s private funeral.

While Gene Simmons and Peter Criss attended the ceremony, focusing on a solemn, family-centered farewell, Stanley’s glaring absence spoke volumes. The public saw not just the end of a life, but the confirmation of a deep, personal gap between two rock brothers that even death could not bridge. Stanley chose to pay his respects publicly, posting a poignant, yet distant, tribute on social media: “Boy I wish that guy was in the band it was Ace,” he wrote, a bittersweet acknowledgment of both regret and respect. This single decision, the choice of a public tribute over a private physical presence, has forced fans and commentators alike to decode the secret history of a relationship that lasted for decades, marked by both profound collaboration and simmering disagreements.

Decades of Distance: The Unraveling of the Rock Brotherhood

To understand the weight of Stanley’s absence, one must first revisit the tempestuous history of the KISS founders. Forged in the early 1970s, the bond between Stanley, Frehley, Simmons, and Criss was a volatile mixture of creativity, ambition, and ego. Ace Frehley’s role was foundational; his unique, blues-infused, heavy-rock guitar style and the iconic “Spaceman” persona were essential ingredients in transforming KISS into a global spectacle. Albums like Destroyer and Alive are immortalized by his riffs and solos, a fact Stanley himself acknowledged when he once emphasized Ace’s importance, labeling him an “Essential Rock Soldier.” This title, though a mark of high professional regard, hints at the complex boundaries that defined their connection—it was a professional partnership above all else.

The relationship was defined by a mixture of intense respect and perpetual friction. Behind the curtain of makeup and stage smoke, Frehley and Stanley’s dynamic was perpetually tense, marred by conflicts over creative control, performance style, and the band’s overarching musical direction. These internal battles were not minor spats; they ultimately led to Ace’s initial departure from the group in 1982. The split was a devastating moment for fans, but for the co-founders, it established a long-standing feud that would shape the rest of their careers.

Stanley’s later comments, such as his expressed regret over the distance, underscore the profound difficulty of their bond: “Boy I wish that guy was in the band it was Ace,” is a sentence soaked in the pain of what could have been. It is a recognition of Ace’s irreplaceable value combined with the persistent reality that their personalities and visions were fundamentally incompatible over the long term. This mixture of admiration and professional necessity, overlaid with an inability to sustain personal closeness, is the painful blueprint for the relationship that culminated in the empty seat at the funeral.

The Fierce Independence of the Spaceman

A crucial element in the enduring gap between Frehley and Stanley was Ace’s ferocious commitment to his own artistic independence. In 1978, when all KISS members released simultaneous solo albums, Ace’s self-titled record, featuring the hit “New York Groove,” reached high chart positions, effectively cementing his personal reputation outside the confines of the band. This success proved Ace’s creativity and influence were his own, a powerful factor that distinguished him from his bandmates.

Following his 1982 departure, Frehley poured his energy into establishing his own name and musical voice. Projects like Frehley’s Comet and albums such as Anomaly solidified his place in the rock scene, allowing him complete creative control—a luxury previously impossible in the democratic, yet highly managed, environment of KISS. He maintained his “Spaceman” image and distinctive playing style, cultivating a signature sound that continued to influence generations of guitarists.

This independent path created a physical and temporal gap between Ace and Paul Stanley. Ace’s tours and solo efforts meant fewer public appearances with his former partner, reinforcing a personal separation that the years only deepened. This independent focus was not merely a career move; it was a personal choice that asserted his legacy outside the co-founder dynamic. His insistence on managing his own career, making strategic decisions, and cultivating a unique brand was a defining characteristic that began early in his career, shaping the long-term relationship with Stanley. The distance that allowed Ace to thrive creatively is the same distance that defined their final farewell.

The Paradox of Reunion and Respect

Despite the long-running personal feud and the persistent distance, the two men were repeatedly drawn back together by the irresistible call of their shared legacy. The 1996 reunion tour marked a significant, albeit temporary, thawing of relations, bringing Ace, Paul, Gene, and Peter back together for global projects including the Psycho Circus album. The on-stage synergy between Ace and Paul remained undeniable, a high-level professional connection that seemed to transcend their personal issues. Their collaborative moments showed that, musically, they were still a powerful, cohesive force.

The acknowledgement of Ace’s role continued into the later years. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction in 2014 was a testament to his lasting influence. In public statements, both Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons consistently affirmed Ace’s irreplaceable contributions, ensuring his place in rock history was honored. These public expressions of respect, however, created a unique paradox: they could honor the “Essential Rock Soldier” and acknowledge his genius, but they could not repair the personal relationship.

It is this paradox that provides the true context for the funeral attendance. The relationship between Frehley and Stanley was ultimately maintained on individual terms—a foundation of profound respect for artistic merit, combined with an unwavering assertion of personal life choices. Ace chose a private funeral, focusing on family and his closest relationships, and Paul Stanley, understanding the boundaries that had been in place for decades, chose a respectful, public, yet physically distant tribute. It was the final, honest reflection of their complicated bond: a great love for the art, but a painful inability to sustain the closeness of brotherhood.

The Enduring Legacy Forged in Fire

The ultimate story of Ace Frehley and Paul Stanley is not one of simple friendship or bitter rivalry, but of a complex, multifaceted bond that defined one of rock’s greatest bands. The empty seat at the funeral was not an act of spite, but a tragic punctuation mark on a relationship that had, for decades, operated on terms of respectful distance. It highlighted that even in moments of profound grief, personal boundaries and individual choices take precedence, a decision likely understood and accepted by both men long ago.

Frehley leaves behind a colossal musical legacy. His style—from his high school days learning guitar in the Bronx to his final solo tours—is an indelible part of the rock canon. Tributes from Simmons and Criss, describing him as “irreplaceable” and an “eternal rock soldier,” affirm the monumental shadow he casts. Paul Stanley’s distant, yet heartfelt, acknowledgment ensures that even without a physical presence at the burial, the spiritual and professional connection to the “Spaceman” endures.

The passing of Ace Frehley closes a chapter in rock history, but the drama surrounding his farewell serves as a powerful reminder: the relationship between artists is often as volatile and compelling as the music they create. For Ace Frehley and Paul Stanley, their final goodbye was a complex blend of professional honor, personal regret, and the final, enduring echo of a feud that time could never completely heal. The music lives on, a monument to their genius, even as the secrets of their troubled brotherhood are finally laid to rest.