Where Do Aerosmith Get Their Guns?

Where Do Aerosmith Get Their Guns?

Lester Bangs

AEROSMITH

Rocks

“(Columbia)

I dont think Aerosmith are going to go down in history as the saviors of heavy metal—if it needs any—but theyve proven conclusively that they know where to cop their licks and keep them percolating sufficiently that this album just went platinum. When Steven Tyler sings "You really aint that young" on "Sick As a Dog," you know hes transcended his (and everybodys) J agger fixatiori to become what he behejd—sons all class and intelligence, of course, but thats beside the point, since what'he and we have been beholding all through the Seventies is a Stones flakey and dissolute at best, so that young Tyler in his makeup looks as greasy as old J agger in his. That Stevens lyrics are generally lousy is compensated by this being one of the .few bands alive that really, blatantly listened, to "We Love You."

And yet, in spite of aping their mentors with proper ostentatious salacity, there is something distinctly mainstream about Aerosmith. They cook, but they do not reek of danger. Its hard to imagine this music without chemical supports, but it staves off the conviction that heavy metal, as a growing form (as opposed to growth industry), has had it. But what if—think about this before you get mad—rock “n roll was the enemy? As good as they are, isnt there something a bit too selfsatisfied about Aerosmith? The greatest rock “n roll, from Eddie Cochran to the Ramones, thrives on insecurity, and even at their most distanced the Stones still have that insecurity. All the greats do—it goes steady with arrogance.

But Aerosmith, mostly because of

Tylers lyrics and ironically unconvincing pose, come off smug; their loss and ours. This music isnt about rebellion—its about getting^ to fuck any chick you want. Which isnt enough. Ask Bukowski. "Im back in the saddle again"—so What? "Im like a loaded gun"—congratulations. Rock “n roll not only is about desire, it is. desire, which js one reason Patti Smith is so powerful. Look, you got it, you dont talk about it, you dont wear your clits on your arm because you aint no member of the Kiss Army, right? Even if J. Paul Getty does have a faceful of beer, which may (I say may) be as important as getting your

grandma out of here.

Some guy said to me tonight, when I posed the Aerosmith problem: "Yeah, but most of their fans are 15 years old and never been laid." As if that explained everything. I refuse to believe that, but I am beginning to wonder about Aerosmith or at least Steven Tyler; methinks this braggart doth protest too much. Whenever J agger got his gun there was always the pang of reality—that this poon may be the hottest piece in the western world, but it still wouldnt save his ass. So just like Aretha Franklin his implied or explicit angst was one thing that made him sexy. Aerosmith are al-.

ways belaboring sex, but theyre really not sexy; they seem rather, to run on sexual tension, a tension they deny. So theres a large hole in the middle of the big twelve inch record.

Do I intellectualize too much? Of course I.do! Im also right, but thats mere abstraction that shouldnt stop you from copping this disc, 2/3rds of which drives, thunders, shrills and crashes in the top of its league. Joe Perry and Brad Whitford may be the best duel-guitar act running today— in "Rats in the Cellar" theyve finally managed to pull off a perfect Yardbirdte steal, which makes them better than present day.Zeppelin at dynamic tension, and in "Combination" they pull out all the stops for a distortion war that, like all the best rave-ups, threatens to drown the* whole track in the wrong kind'of chaos but manages to keep things reined just this side of Gehenna. There may be too much method in their madness—that scene in Blow Up, after all, was Armageddon— but if you want Armageddon to take out hot as can be expected ten years later, here it is.

On the other hand: in spite of all, there is still nothing smug about Kiss. They are still afraid that people are going to get bored with their faces and be laughing at them when they wake up tomorrow. Destroyer and its Ezrin is an act of desperation, whereas Rocks is an assured, methodical, unhurried move in no particularly new direction. Its not that it doesnt add anything to Get Your Wings or Toys in the Attic ("Rats in the Cellar"—what next, "Brica>>abrac on the Ground Floor?): it doesnt need to. But I find the fact that Kiss live in abject terror of obsolescence much more compelling than the flaking of Steven Tylers makeup. And the natives are getting restless.