Published on Jan 2, 2000
Did Steven Tyler and crew know when Aerosmith brought out their
debut album in 1973 that they would go on to become one of the most
beloved and influential rock bands of their time?
I don’t know about that – and seeing I was all of two years old
back then, I didn’t think to ask Tyler about any plans for musical
world domination. But one thing is clear about the self-titled disc
they put out: for the most part, it’s held up well and is still an
enjoyable album today.
Aerosmith will forever be known as the release that spawned
“Dream On,” undoubtedly one of the most overplayed songs in the
classic rock library today. (No, I don’t hate the song; it just
gets tiring on the 10,000th listen in the span of two weeks.) The
way that the band – vocalist Tyler, guitarists Joe Perry and Brad
Whitford, bassist Tom Hamilton and drummer Joey Kramer – builds the
song from a gentle ballad to a powerful, yet melodic, refrain is
what has helped to keep this song sounding fresh, even 25 years
after it was recorded.
Granted, the overall sound of
Aerosmith is rougher than the digitally-polished works we’ve
grown accustomed to in this day and age. But I tend to think that a
little bit of the sonic grit that is there helps to give the album
an added texture and edge. It helps by adding that much more of a
sneer to “Mama Kin,” or provides the “walking down an alley” feel
that makes up “One Way Street”. Simply put: this is magic that
you’re listening to – and it is not the easiest thing to conjure up
on an album.
It’s almost as if Aerosmith knew they were launching something
big at the start; “Make It,” the album’s opening track, declares,
“Good evening, people. Welcome to the show.” It has the same kind
of power that Emerson, Lake & Palmer harnessed when they
declared, “Welcome back, my friends, to the show that never ends.”
It may sound a bit corny, but when you hear Tyler and crew deliver
the goods, you find yourself hanging on to – and believing – every
word.
Of course, not everything works that well on
Aerosmith – though I’ll concede the one stumbling point I
noted is a matter of personal taste. I have yet to hear a version
of “Walkin’ The Dog” that I even remotely liked – and I blame that
on the New Mickey Mouse Club doing a falsetto version of this on an
album I owned as a child. I hated that rendition, and I’ve never
looked at the tune in the same light ever since. If you want me to
get less personal about it, then let’s say I find it strange that
Aerosmith would resort to a cover after an album of strong
originals. (Then again, they went back into cover land one album
later with “Train Kept A-Rollin'”.)
Aerosmith might only clock in at just under 36 minutes, but
it represents a strong birth cry that has lost little of its power
or volume through the passage of time. While it’s easy to tell
someone to grab onto one of the numerous live or “greatest hits”
packages that Aerosmith has done over the years,
Aerosmith is the natural place for someone who wants to
really learn about this band to start with.