AEROSMITH: BOSTON’S BAD BOYS

AEROSMITH: BOSTON’S BAD BOYS

Toby Goldstein

Before Boston burst out, when J. Geils was still light years away from growing to gargantuan proportions, Aerosmith’s exuberant arrogance was reinstating Boston’s place of honor on the rock ’n’ roll map. Never mind that Aerosmith’s lead singer was in reality a New York-raised kid born with the unlikely name of Steven Tallerico — as Steve Tyler, he led a merry band of self-styled rogues to blaring, heroic accomplishments. That now, more than two years after the group was given up for dead, Aerosmith managed to release the moderately-selling Rock In A Hard Place, and support the LP with a national tour, is further proof of its refusal to quietly settle for some dusty place in history.

Ironically, for one band who most critics have long since learned to hate, Aerosmith actually began as a “progressive”-type outfit, back in 1973. Formed in the New England summer resort town of Sunapee by Tyler, Joe Perry, Brad Whitford, Tom Hamilton and Joey Kramer, Aerosmith released its first, self-titled album on Columbia within a year. From that album, “Dream On” became an immediate hit. The song was not exactly your conventional smash-em-up boogie-boy routine. Gradually building to an emotional crescendo from a very restrained, classically-influenced melody (Tyler admits that fact), “Dream On” indicated that Aerosmith just might be able to pack a punch yet not alienate an audience which wanted to listen to them.

Once they began the basic rock-star mechanics of touring, however, Aerosmith made it clear that guitar heroics, extravagance and volume were what made them tick. Dressed in colorful medieval-period jester costumes, rail-thin Tyler covered himself and his microphone in zillions of scarves, which he schlepped, none too gracefully, back and forth across the stage. Quickly, reviewers noted that Steven bore an amazing resemblance to another ✓outrageous frontman with pronounced, pliable lips—Mick Jagger—and a stream of endless comparisions ensued. “They write smart things like ‘the Tyleresque Jagger,’ I mean, The Jaggeresque Tyler,’ ” Steve griped to me many years ago, on the eve of their first British tour. “I can give you quotes like that up the Yinyang. They make no sense,” Tyler concluded, in the same breathless style which marked his performances.

If Steve Tyler was indeed Aerosmith’s Mickish vocalist, black-garbed Joe Perry, an expression of angst permanently glued to his face, was the band’s Keith Richard. It’s been years since 1 last saw Aerosmith play live, but what sticks in my mind are the endless sounds of Perry and his blond lead counterpart, Brad Whitford, facing off against each other. No matter who eventually triumphed after their lengthy solo battles had ended, the result of Aerosmith’s concerts, unlike some of their remarkably well-structured singles, was chaos.

As Get Your Wings and Toys In The Attic followed Aerosmith to million-selling status, the dramatic singles of “Same Old Song And Dance,” “Toys In The Attic,” and particularly, “Sweet Emotion” (“Dream On,” revisited) led to international success for the band. By 1976, Aerosmith was arguably one of America’s biggest-selling groups around the world. Unfortunately, life at the top did not sit well with the group, and the erosion of Aerosmith’s somewhat shaky sense of selfcontrol began almost immediately.

Never having the cohesiveness they did on stage which came through on disc— often, the songs were audibly out-of-tune — Aerosmith started losing their ability to generate hits. Despite its unique cover, drawn by cartoonist A1 Hirschfield, the 1977 Draw The Line passed into swift oblivion. Dissent among the membership and rumored drug problems tore the band to ribbons. Always considered reckless, Tyler was now perceived as downright sloppy. A few more disappointing records, and by the close of the 1970’s, Aerosmith dropped out of sight, presumably never to return. With great flourishes, Joe Perry and Brad Whitford announced they were leaving the group, and each formed his own band, neither chalking up significant sales to date.

As for Tyler, he married David Johansen’s old flame, Cyrinda, then managed to almost destroy his left foot in a motorcycle accident. Tyler, too, may or may not have spent the last couple of years battling to clean up his act—his exuberance always seemed far too manic to have been completely nature-induced. Those who’ve seen him lately say that Tyler’s demeanor is considerably calmed, and admittedly, Steven did valiantly restructure the group. Newcomers Jimmy Crespo and Rick Dufay bacame the band’s current lead guitarists, and worked for the first time on Rock In A Hard Place.

As yet, all the results of that album and tour are not in, so it’s too soon to guess whether or not Aerosmith will regain its former glory. The lean, cruel 1980’s are not the expansive mid-seventies, and Aerosmith may not be able to adjust to the times. Ironically, just as Tyler was influenced by his British idols such as the Yardbirds, so have some of our giants— Van Halen, for instance, partially descended from the hoot and hollers of Aerosmith. David Lee Roth’s scarf-bedecked, barechested egomania owes a debt to Steve Tyler. Sadly, it’s doubtful that, in the face of Roth and similar Young Turks, Tyler can grab back that silk-strewn crown one more time.