Aerosmith (1973)

7.5

Make It / Somebody / Dream On / One Way Street / Mama Kin / Write Me / Movin’ Out / Walkin’ the Dog

“Once upon a time,” Grandma muttered, “more than three decades ago already, there used to be this excellent hard rock band called Aerosmith. They weren’t what you’d call innovating, nor were they proficient musicians – although their lead guitar player Joe Perry could bend some strings – but they had several things going for them.” Here Grandma took a gulp from her mug of tea and continued: “It was the seventies, you know, my dear boy, and rock music was on its way to drown in its own excess fat, with bands trying to outdo each other, incorporating insane numbers of chords, smart/obscure references, self-satisfied tricks, cheap gimmicks, odd time signatures, rhythmic shifts and other excessive elements into their music – for better or worse – but bands like Aerosmith kept churning out no-nonsense, good timey rock ‘n’ roll, taking their cues from The Yardbirds (just like all other hard rock bands at the time) and other white blues bands, the sleaziness of the previous few Rolling Stones albums and a XL-dose of boogie.” Another gulp. “In fact, the Stones-comparison would haunt them throughout their career, from when they were rookies until they’d become the mindless corporate rock machine they are nowadays, and Steven Tyler’s partly to blame: not only did he, like Mick Jagger, have an incredible sets of lips, but the faggy stage antics, wilfully androgynous image (tight pants, Oooh!) and being capable to play a mean blues harp added to the similarity.”

On the other hand, Aerosmith were always a bit louder than the Stones, while the guitar team of Perry and Whitford traded off cool riffs like few other bands, until the emergence of AC/DC’s Young brothers who took this to a next level of crudity and excellence. As for their sleaziness, a band that’s often mentioned are the infamous New York Dolls, who were even more about image, while playing a variant of rock ‘n’ roll that made Aerosmith look like business men in three piece suits. When push comes to shove, Aerosmith weren’t particularly interesting on paper (hell, only Laurie Anderson’s music looks better on paper than in reality), but from the get-go they’d found their own brand of Amurican rock ‘n’ roll, which they’d refine (well, it never got more subtle, make that “enhance”) until they became one of the best (hard) rock bands of the ‘70’s. Because they’d already been playing for nearly three years when this debut was released, they sound pretty self-assured (even though Tyler sometimes sounds like a completely different singer – he hadn’t discovered the high-pitched screeching yet), and the material gathered here consists of boogies, riff-based hard rock, boogies, a lonely ballad and … more boogies. But they’re good! The only problem is that after you’ve heard the album, you won’t be able to remember them, you’ll only be able to think of a stretched 30-minute boogie. The obvious exception is, of course, “Dream On.” I’m not American, so I’m not familiar with the concept of “classic rock radio,” but I’ve heard it quite often, and I gotta admit (*guilty pleasure alert*) that I like it a lot. Of course it’s cheesy, of course it’s got that minor, tear-inducing intro, of course it’s a recurring favorite during wedding parties, but hey, this song simply asks for hanky panky! Put it on, try to resist it, try not to be moved by Perry’s short melodic lines and that transition into full-blown drama after 2:04. It’s got a reputation for being one of the first hard rock ballads, but it might also be one of the best you’ll ever hear (unless you prefer the miserable drivel that poodle bands ‘made’ in the ‘80’s), and you’ll keep on flexin’ those muscles for the full 4:27, I bet you will!

The second track that doesn’t really fit in with the six remaining ones is the 7-minute “One Way Street,” that just longer than the rest and is a nice showcase for Tyler’s harp art. It’s so goddamn hard to choose picks on the album: there’s not really a misfire, but no instant classic either (apart from the syrupy one). If I had to choose at gunpoint, I’d probably go for the obvious “Mama Kin,” which recycles classic Faces riffs, speeds them up a bit and, most important of all, refrains from trying to incorporate too many ideas. It’s just your basic, frill-less rawk that’ll make you crave for beer, football/baseball/soccer/tiddlywinks/billiards (scratch what’s not applicable), or a re-run of Married with Children. Also a guarantee for a shit-load of fun are the greasy, crawling “Movin’ Out” (watch Tyler’s imitation of a 75-year old black blues singer) and their gritty take on Rufus Thomas’ classic “Walkin’ the Dog” that simply was meant to be covered by them, as it unites the funky smells, street-smart attitude and undiluted rock ‘n’ roll they were lookin’ for. But like I mentioned earlier, I could’ve chosen “Write Me” (a thumping, mid-tempo boogie), “Somebody” (a very similar, but slightly swifter boogie) or album opener “Make It” instead, as they all burst with fat riffs, predictable but satisfying hooks (albums like this one are good for your self-esteem), a competent, muscular backbeat and enthusiastic vocals. Aerosmith didn’t become an instant success and it certainly didn’t deserve to be one, but hearing it for the 76th time in a week, it’s not surprising anymore they’d come up with some of the finest hard rock of the decade (or ever) a few years down the road. Final verdict: don’t repeat that Tyler’s only accomplishment is his daughter Liv (even though she’s gorgeous), as these songs (apart from “Walkin’ the Dog”) were all (co-)written by him. Now, if only those lips weren’t that monstrous….

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Get Your Wings (1974)

7.5

Same Old Song and Dance / Lord of the Thighs / Woman of the World / S.O.S. (Too Bad) / Train Kept a Rollin’ / Seasons if Wither / Pandora’s Box

Haha! Just take look at the album cover, so full of contradictions. The dominant black is so much cooler than the cheap teenage diary-design of the debut and Perry’s pouting expression seems to suggest he’s finally become a mean mofo. But then there’s Steven Tyler, who not only looks kinda chubby, but also seems to wear make-up, and then … those pants! OK, here’s one piece of advice from good ole Guido: if you’re gonna wear tight leather pants, just watch out the camera’s flash doesn’t highlight your bulging crotch. It’s NOT cool, man. That said, the album is in several ways an improvement over the debut: newly hired producer Jack Douglas (who’d stay with them for a few – their best – years) gives the sound a bit more bite, the band seems to have found their own style, a style that would blossom into something deliciously dirty later on, and there’s a bit more variation here. Granted, “Dream On” immediately came off as something different on the eponymous debut – and there is no “Dream on” here -, but Get Your Wings displays a broader palette of sounds, styles and textures: although it’s all based on Perry’s fairly rudimentary style and Tyler’s instantly recognizable yelps, there’s some blooz-rock, dark hard rock, swinging rock and roll and, of course, the obligatory ballad.

The album contains two tracks that to this day deserved to be considered classics in their catalogue. The first one is the opening track “Same Old Song and Dance,” a terrific finger-snappin’ piece of throbbing blues-rock that basically has all the ingredients in the right place: Tyler delivers a memorable vocal melody (which is too often not the case), Perry provides some searing soloing, while the addition of horns adds some extra swing. The second one is their oft-lauded interpretation of Tiny Bradshaw’s classic “Train Kept a Rollin’,” a track you might’ve heard on some Yardbirds or Motörhead releases as well. Anyway, I was scamming the internet a while ago and stumbled across an interview with guitar player Dick Wagner, of Lou Reed- and Alice Cooper fame, and he has something interesting to say: “(…) I got a call to come over and play on this Aerosmith record. I didn’t know who they were... I guess nobody did then. I played on 4 tracks and Steve [Hunter] played on a couple tracks. We weren’t credited because the band didn’t want anybody thinking that Joe Perry didn’t play all those solos!” (1) The IRONY! This song is, like, THE song that Aerosmith aficionados mention when they’re trying to prove Perry’s one of the great guitar gods of the 20th century. I have no reason to believe Wagner is lying (even though it’s not confirmed by the liner notes, nor by the band’s website), and when I returned to the blistering track, the soloing (especially in the faster second half) does indeed seem a bit too flashy to be Perry’s. Anyway, I’m just pointing this out (just don’t ever mention it again when you’re having a discussion), because the song remains a scorching rave-up that was waiting to be covered by the band. Not nearly as definitive, but excellent tracks nonetheless, are “Lord of the Thighs” and “Spaced,” both exploring a bit gloomier territory. I especially like the insistent piano hammering away in the former, while Tyler does something, uh, different in the latter, with a yearning, unsettling vocal melody. A final winner is the excellent power-ballad “Seasons of Wither.” It sounds cheesy as hell, but it’s just that they were so dang good at this kind of yearning ballads if they wanted. They aren’t of the painfully sincere kind that can alter my mood, but at least this one’s pretty. The remainder of the album is considerably less imaginative: “S.O.S.” is an energetic, but ultimately unremarkable rocker, while both “Woman of the World” and “Pandora’s Box” shouldn’t have dragged on for nearly six minutes (and what about award-winning lyrics such as “When I'm in heat someone gets a notion, I jump to my feet, I hoof it to the ocean, we hit a beach where no one gives a hoot”?). Whereas the band sounds more self-assured than before on Get Your Wings, these overly long, slightly dull tracks prevent it from becoming any better than the debut as a whole. I think they used to call stuff like this ‘a gracefully missed opportunity.’

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Toys in the Attic (1975)

8.5

Toys in the Attic / Uncle Salty / Adam's Apple / Walk This Way / Big Ten Inch Record / Sweet Emotion / No More No More / Round and Round / You See Me Crying

The band's most enjoyable stab at a great album is definitely overrated - you're really nuts if you claim these nine songs are all classics in the pantheon of rock - but its best moments still kick ass nearly thirty years after its release. The most remarkable aspect about it is perhaps that the band has progressed a lot since Get Your Wings, both as performers and as songwriters. If the band had called it quits after this one, then the Top 10 of Aerosmith songs would've been cluttered with at least 5-6 songs from this album and occupying spots 1-4. Opening song "Toys in the Attic" is sort of the band's "Communication Breakdown," a blistering rocker that chugs along at such a frantic pace, it's almost proto-punk. There's nothing like this on their first two albums: it rocks, it's catchy, it sounds appropriately gutsy, contains some raucous axe-work and - despite the awkwardness of the "toys, toys, toys" backing vocals - contains some of Tyler's better performances up to that point. The best thing about it: it wasn't even a single, so that suggests they had even better things in store. "Sweet Emotion" was the lead-off single and the first of their songs that made a true impact (its success would even prompt the band (or label) to re-release "Dream On") on the market. It's perfectly understandable why, as the dark swampy intro, the no nonsense riff and smart use of sound effects (backwards loops?) spell ROCK in capitals. There's also a coda that doesn't really serve any purpose, but those drum salvos and guitar solo at the end of the song would be copied by dozens and dozens of bands. Even better is the band's signature song, the sex-obsessed "Walk This Way." What's there to dislike about the song (let's presume you're not from the Christian right)? Tyler raps some of the dumbest lyrics imaginable ("You ain't seen nothing, 'til you're down on a muffin" - TAKE THAT, JAMES TAYLOR!) and gets away with it, the rhythm section delivers the funkiest strut any white-ass band had ever played up to that point, while Perry smacks you against the head with one of hard rock's defining riffs. It must admit I like the '80's version with RUN DMC just as much, but this one gets the prize for being released at the height of pompousness' reign. Like Dr. Feelgood and Brinsley Schwarz in the UK, Aerosmith might've been co-responsible for a return to the basics a few years later. There's nothing as good as these singles, but the first album half packs several nifty songs: "Uncle Salty" is surprisingly restrained and menacing, offers one of the few instances you're led to believe the band is telling you something substantial and of course that classic repeated "Ooooohhh, it's a sunny day outside my window" won't get out of your head. The other two songs on Side 1 are more of the fun kind: "Adam's Apple" is blues-rock full of sexual innuendos (one for the books: "It was love at first bite"), adds a new twist to the Genesis and makes great use of horns. Equally enjoyable and often ridiculed is the over the top-silliness of "Big Ten Inch Record," which contains - as you may have guessed - more double entendres than an entire AC/DC-album, and all of them involve "ten inches." Anyway, the second half, which contains the four longest songs is less remarkable, though still good. Besides "Sweet Emotion," there's the melodic bluesy rock of "No More No More" that has the album's weakest chorus, the surprisingly heavy and even creepy drone of "Round and Round" which helped paving the way for metal; and finally, the OBLIGATORY POWER BALLAD, "You See Me Crying." Oh man, these fuckers are smart. First they make more sexual references than you thought could be made in half an hour and THEN they suddenly play the sensitivity-card with a ballad called "You See Me Crying" and probably got away with it as well. It's completely laughable, come to think of it - it proves AC/DC are smarter… AC/DC doesn't do ballads - but around 1975, Aerosmith still knew what they were doing and "You See Me Crying" is a rather successful, if pompous, slice of melodrama. Toys in the Attic definitely isn't a 37-minute rock-fest of the highest order, but its best moments are among the finer and tasteful (hard) rock of the '70's and we all know that everybody needs some of that once in a while. Especially the men among us.

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Rocks (1976)

8

Back in the Saddle / Last Child / Rats in the Cellar / Combination / Sick As a Dog / Nobody's Fault / Get the Lead Out / Lick and a Promise / Home Tonight

1976. A bit of a transitional year. The year of harmless soft-rock monuments Hotel California, Boston, The Pretender, Frampton Comes Alive and Steely Dan's insanely underrated The Royal Scam. While the vultures were already feasting on the bursting corpse of bloated '70's excess (the hard rock and prog greats who reigned five years before were all experiencing a decline), there were quite a few worthwhile albums released that rocked with a vengeance, and I'm not just talking about RAMONES. I'm talking about Judas Priest's terrific Sad Wings of Destiny, Thin Lizzy's essential Jailbreak and also Rocks by Boston's finest, who got one last stab at greatness and would be trampled from 1977 onwards by a bunch of ugly Australians who took the 'rock' to even greater heights. Anyway, Rocks is an excellent album that deserves its title exactly because it lives up to it. It doesn't sound as good as Toys in the Attic (the murky guitar sound is alright, but the drums don't sound nearly as natural), isn't as much fun and hasn't got highlights like "Walk This Way" and "Sweet Emotion," but in its own perverse way, it might be the most consistently rocking batch of songs the band ever delivered. Granted, there are a few songs that are hardly above average (I know it's got some nifty guitar shredding, but no one's gonna convince me that "Combination" should be lauded - the vocals are just too bland and repetitive and the song doesn't go anywhere; while "Get the Lead Out" is struttin' Aerosmith by the books, it's got the rock, but not the roll it's aiming for), but stuff like the first three tracks? Degenerate rock 'n' roll, almost as good as it gets. I mean, only Aerosmith could pull off something like the heavy rock of "Back in the Saddle" with its neighing horses and galloping percussion. At times, Tyler's shrieking (the repeated "I'm back" and - especially - "Ridin' hiiiiiiiiiiiggghhh") is nearly cringe-inducing, but it's supported by great riffing that makes one a bit more tolerant - even tolerant enough to forgive the rather directionless last minute of the song. The moment I heard "Last Child" for the first time, I went "Jesus, already a ballad!?" but there's no need to panic, as the band tears into its funkiest strut since "Walk This Way" (and nothing after it comes even close), a strut that's also a dead-ringer for Ian Dury's "Sex & Drugs & Rock 'n Roll." It's followed by the almost breakneck speed of "Rats in the Cellar," a vicious slab of "Toys in the Attic"-meets-"Train Kept A-Rollin'," the kind of stuff the snotty Guns 'n Roses could've come up with on a good day. Even though the album's second half is no match for the first string of songs, it boasts one of the band's classics with the dark and heavy "Nobody's Fault," which features some of Tyler's best and original vocal performances and a drive that crushes everything on its way. Apart from the first three songs and "Nobody's Fault," there are no cuts that could've been contenders, but none of them qualifies as filler: as said above, "Combination" and "Get the Lead Out" are rather average songs, but they would've been highlights on most of the band's later albums. The almost-pop of "Sick of a Dog" is hard to resist and boasts one of the band's catchiest choruses, "Lick and a Promise" is one of those adrenalin-charged barn-burning boogies (with slightly silly "Naanaanaanaanaaaaa"-parts) and "Home Tonight" ends the album with the TOTALLY UNEXPECTED power ballad. Again, when I'm in a bad mood, this kind of drivel makes me wanna throw jars of apple sauce from the balcony (I'm living on the fourth floor), but under normal circumstances I'll keep it simple with a near-unintelligible "Well, at least they could pull it off." Deservedly less lauded/popular than Toys in the Attic (over here at least, even though I presume that '90's Aerosmith is even more familiar to most ears), Rocks nevertheless was a fine chapter that reminded you of the band's talent before they gradually declined and - like much of their competition - became a machine (instead of a band that thrived on earlier accomplishments.

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Draw the Line (1977)

7.5

Draw the Line / I Wanna Know Why / Critical Mass / Get It Up / Bright Light Fright / Kings and Queens / The Hand That Feeds / Sight for Sore Eyes / Milk Cow Blues

"The album where Aerosmith lost it." Wrong. Not in my book. It's true that it can't measure up to terrific party album Toys in the Attic or the murky, heavier coke-fest of Rocks, but it's a good, old-fashioned, reliable rock & roll album nevertheless. Nothing fancy, nothing new, nothing special; just riffs, driving beats and shrieking. If you didn't like the first four albums, you won't like this one either. Admittedly, if you're in it for the crispy songwriting, then this might display the sagging pudding-effect (there's nothing quite as fresh and enjoyable as the double opening punch of "Draw the Line" and "I Wanna Know Why"), but most people aren't into Aerosmith because they're innovative song-writers who like to tamper with the basic rules. It's about rockin', about vibe, groove, machismo, channelling testosterone through layers of guitar excess and naughty lyrics about sex, rebellion and, uh, more sex. You know what to expect and Draw the Line delivers. The title track is unquestionably the album's best and most memorable song, a ripping cut that deserves a spot among their best songs. Boasting an excellent riff, sizzling slide playing and the recognisable swaggering drive, it's American rock at its best, and when you get to the final part, where Tyler's shrieking gets ear-piercingly shrill and you wonder "Can he… will he… keep that up?" and the answer ends up being affirmative, you'll realize your ass has been kicked in a major way. "I Wanna Know Why" is only half as tough, but it's one of their best r&b-inflected pop tunes, complete with catchy sax parts and a relentless party vibe. I mean, if there's one sing-along song to be found on the album, with a chorus that's ridiculously silly (can anyone suppress a foolish grin while listening to it?), it's "I Wanna Know Why." Those two are essentially the only two cuts you need to remember, but there's more good stuff: "Get It Up" is stompin', struttin' funk-rock like only they could conjure up (well, and the Stones maybe… during the better moments of Black and Blue or Some Girls - in fact, the song's simple groove always reminds me of the far inferior "Undercover of the Night," perhaps because of those drum salvos) and "Kings and Queens" (power-ballad meets rawk) - despite its silly attempt at epic grandeur, is damn effective as well. The hard rock synths are a bit dated now - unless you're, you know, one of those sympho-progheads - but the mandolin (barely audible, indeed) was a nice touch! I admit that the remaining songs are a bit weak in comparison, because they're Aerosmith-by-the-book or just not very interesting, but I certainly can deal with most of 'em. Perry's contribution, "Bright Light Fright" is as substantial as a fake boob, but it's spiffy, you know, tearing ahead with a nearly punk-ish determination, propelled by a honkin' sax and tight beat. The insistent hi-hat ticks of "The Hand That Feeds" remind you this was the disco-era, but hey, if it keeps the booties busy on the dance-floor it must be okay. "Milk Cow Blues," seems to be universally hated - except by hardcore Aerosmith-fans, the most dangerous cult after neo-conservatives - but of course it's misunderstood. It's an excuse to rock out, man! It's a simple, chugging, roadhouse boogie, the band's version of the train-rhythm, the boom-chicka-boom. Take it for what it is - an excuse to release testosterone tension - and no harm will be done. However, there's not much of an excuse for "Critical Mass" and "Sight for Sore Eyes." Both are a bit too long, both are a bit annoying, both are the umpteenth variation on the same old theme - "Sight for Sore Eyes" attempting to recreate the ass-wiggling funk of "Last Child"/"Walk This Way"/even "Get It Up" while "Critical Mass" is just trying to uh… to what? Those "celebrate, celebrate, celebrate iiiiiit"-parts aren't funny, Steve. Oh well, what did I expect? A consistently thrilling Aerosmith has yet to be made. Don't forget, however, that the band does deserve credit for most of its seventies output, not just the two previous albums. I understand it's difficult to give wrinkled granddads who had more face-lifts and hair bleach than good ideas the past decade some credit, but what this world needs is more generosity. And another war, I might add.

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Live! Bootleg (1978)

7

Back in the Saddle / Sweet Emotion / Lord of the Thighs / Toys in the Attic / Last Child / Come Together / Walk This Way / Sick As a Dog / Dream On / Chip Away the Stone / Sight for Sore Eyes / Mama Kin / S.O.S. / I Ain't Got You / Mother Popcorn / Draw the Line (uncredited) / Train Kept A Rollin'

Sloppy, slipshod, slapdash. Live! Bootleg shows you Aerosmith how they should be experienced: alive, dirty and under the influence of illegal substances. The release received quite some bad press because it was such a hodgepodge of recordings (understandable) and because of the very careless performances, but I'd rather have this than a studio-polished fake document and with how it's going these days, who actually believes in so-called honesty of bands and their live albums these days? That said, Live! Bootleg might be particularly annoying if you've always thought that rock 'n' roll should be experienced from a sofa with headphones on. Steven Tyler's vocals during opening song "Back in The Saddle," and more specifically, his "Ridin' hiiiiiiiiiiigh" parts, are atrociously bad, more comparable to the useless caterwauling of a cat travelling from the 7th floor balcony to the ground, than a real human voice. There are more instances like that, moments where Tyler's broken voice actually hurts your ears with same chicken-like, screeching sounds ("Mother Popcorn," "Draw the Line"). Also the rest of the band repeatedly seems to care more about the after-party than the gig they're playing. It's not that songs completely break down, but the timing (especially Perry's) is occasionally off, the wrong notes are played and there are accelerations that shouldn't really be there. But hey, it's a live album and that's what happens on a stage. The sound's actually pretty good, certainly because the cover and title promise sub-par bootleg quality. The man drawback is the fact that the songs are pasted together from different performances, so there's not one homogenous sound throughout the album. And I didn't even mention the ever-changing size of the audience (ranging from filled stadiums to their take on The Beatles's "Come Together," which they apparently performed for that night's supporting act. But the actual sound of the music is quite good: you can actually hear two guitars (sometimes the interplay really steals the show), drums, bass and vocals separately. If you didn't like the first few albums, you won't like this live document, and if you're a fan of the studio albums, there's no way you're gonna hate this one. It's just that… it won't make any new fans. Some of the songs sound better than their studio counterparts ("Lord of the Things," for instance), some sound a bit less interesting ("Back in the Saddle," "Mama Kin," "Walk This Way"), and the versions of the ones I wasn't fond of before ("S.O.S.," "Sick As a Dog," "Sight for Sore Eyes") didn't change my mind. The selection of the songs is rather predictable, but makes sense I guess - you can't please everybody. Finally, there are the covers: "Come Together" sounds menacing, heavy and dark, "I Ain't Got You" is decent blues-rock and their often-criticised "Mother Popcorn" is actually pretty good (although Tyler should have kept his mouth shut during a few instances), just like the steaming version of "Train Kept a Rollin'" and its reference to "Strangers in the Night." So there you go: nothing spectacular (sloppy, predictable), nothing to be ashamed of (energetic performances and a bunch of excellent songs), just a fine rock 'n' roll album that's required for fans and optional, but certainly not obligatory, if you wanna have a taste of the band.

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