Just as disco was putting guitar rock into a temporary sleeper hold, KISS was touring the country in a station wagon.

The foursome made the princely sum of $75 apiece per week, according to front man Gene Simmons.

They undoubtedly traveled sans makeup, but it’s fun to think of a kid glancing over on the highway in 1974 and seeing a woody wagon filled with glam rockers.

“We went to the heartland,” Simmons said in a phone interview, “because New York and LA were too busy doing the disco stuff. And we went to Fort Wayne and we went to Mankato and we went to Saint Joseph and we went to Paris, Texas. Places like that. That’s where they remember you.”

Four decades later, the band (minus two of its original members) has been returning this summer to some of the midsized and fun-sized cities that first embraced it.

KISS performs August 12 at Memorial Coliseum.

“The buildings (in these towns) might not be as tall as the ones in New York,” Simmons said. “But buildings don’t determine cool. People do. The people in small towns will tell you what they think and the rest be damned. They don’t care. If they like and love you, they like and love you. They don’t care if anybody else does.”

The erudite, outspoken and cocksure Simmons has gotten himself into various degrees of hot water over the years because of his tendency to tell you what he thinks and the rest be damned.

But it would be hard to criticize his work ethic. The band has earned some laurels on which it could conceivably rest. In 2015, Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) announced that KISS had earned more gold record album citations (30) than any American band in the history of such certifications.

The awards wouldn’t mean anything, Simmons said, if the band decided to perform future shows as if the memory of a former greatness was all it was required to deliver to its current fans.

“At the end of the day, the only thing that’s important is what you do on stage, proven tonight,” he said. “Before we get up on stage, I know that show is going to be the most important concert we ever play. And we’re going to take it deadly seriously because that’s what we do.”

At the age of 66, Simmons still straps himself into 50 pounds of armor every night and climbs aboard 11-inch platform heels.

He recalled the opening show on this tour, which happened outdoors in Tucson.

“The temperature was 103,” he said. “Add to that the stage lights, which probably raise the level another 10 degrees. And when the fireballs kick in, maybe another 10 degrees. You’re talking about 120 degrees on stage with about 40 percent humidity factor.

“So all night we’re chugging water,” Simmons said. “We’re trying to catch our breath. We don’t use backing tracks. We don’t lip synch. We work for it. This is the hardest working band in show business. Pride is an important word.”

Simmons said people roll their eyes sometimes when he talks about the band’s high standards.

“They go, ‘Oh boy. He’s so full of himself,’” he said. “You’re damned right we are. We’re proud to get up there at every show and introduce ourselves with a pretty cocky statement: ‘You wanted the best. You got the best. The hottest band in the world.’”

KISS became one of the world’s hottest bands through an unlikely combination of makeup, cosplay, stage pageantry, savvy songwriting and pop mythologizing.

Each member of the band was a celebrity in his own right in the 1970s.

The various men who have replaced lead guitarist Ace “Spaceman” Frehley and drummer Peter “The Catman” Criss since the early 1980s aren’t nearly as vivid in most people’s minds as their progenitors.

But the core of the band remains the same: Simmons (aka the Demon) and Paul “The Starchild” Stanley. It’s a professional marriage that has not been without its strife, Simmons said.

“We never butt heads which is a strange combination of two different sides of your body,” he said. “We always disagree about everything. But I think it’s fair to say that we’re two different sides of the same coin. We share the same work ethic, the same commitment to the band, the same commitment to the fans. Show up on time. There’s no Axl Rose behavior here.”

Simmons, being Simmons, told a story of a confrontation he once had with Rose.

“I told him to his face: ‘You’re the luckiest son of a bitch who ever walked the face of the planet. Now, at least don’t insult your fans and show up on time.’ People who buy tickets are giving you a gift. Even God doesn’t do that.”

KISS came up at a time, Simmons said, when a rock band had to deliver on stage in every conceivable way and the band won’t abandon those values.

“We put on a show,” he said. “We’re apolitical. We don’t tell you what to do or what to think. What’s the secret of life? I have no idea. What we do is celebrate life. On our tombstones, it’s going to say ‘KISS Gave Bang for the Buck.’ If that’s our only legacy, it’s enough.”

Bands that wing it, mail it in or let personal shortcomings imperil their professional obligations are doing their fans a grave disservice, Simmons said.

“It’s easy to forget that you’re not the boss,” he said. “You just work here. The fans are the bosses. We owe them everything. Without them, I’d be asking the next person in line, ‘Would you like fries with that?’”