M.E.A.T.
April 1993
By: Drew Masters
It's hard to believe when being in the presence of Aerosmith's Steven Tyler and Joe Perry that these guys are now in their mid-40's, and are still going considering they wrote the book on rock excessiveness. They look better than most guys I know in their mid-20's, and are certainly more charismatic and talented than most of today's two-dimensional rock stars.
It's harder to believe that this band, formed in 1971 in Boston, put out their first record in January of 1973 when most of their newest fans weren't even born! Now, in 1993--some 20 recording years later--they're back with their eleventh studio release, a mad as hell monster entitled Get A Grip. An album of 12 diverse yet driving tunes (recorded in Vancouver and produced by Bruce Fairbairn) that turns sharply away from their last two mega-releases--the 6 million selling Permanent Vacation from 1987, and the 8 million selling Pump from 1989--and takes this all-American band back to the no-holds-barred attitude of their classics, Toys In The Attic (1975) and Rocks (1976).
Decked out in bell-bottomed leathers and skin tight denim, open shirts and flowing jewellery, Tyler and Perry look all the bit the part in their appointed roles as rock's Toxic Twins as they enter their downtown TO hotel room. Though now in 1993, it's less toxicity, and more musical lethalness. I began this conversation by wondering why it took four years to get out Grip since Pump?
Begins Tyler, "We usually tour for about a year-and-a-half and it usually takes us the better pan of a year to do an album."
"It probably took a shorter amount of time to write it," adds Perry, "but to record it and mix it and do all that shit, it just took a long time to get this one down because it was supposed to come out almost a year ago. It wasn't like we were sitting on our asses just taking time."
Having had a private audience with the record prior to this interview, I expressed my impression of Grip as being a bit more concise, yet more challenging, than their immediate past releases.
"You mean commercial", laughed Perry in jest. "It was made a little smoother sounding. Everything was cut down to the quick. People talk about this record being closer to Rocks, but I think that Pump was closer to that because it's more streamline. There's just a lot more spewage on this one--a lot more energy."
So, were they taking chances on this album more so than others? Says Perry, sarcastically, "Let's do a record like fucking ZZ Top and make it sound just like the last one because that's what everybody expects."
Jumps in Tyler, "That's bullshit, man! We don't believe in that anyway. We came out of the ashes when we got back together and did 'Permanent Vacation', and there was a bunch of songs on there that made me wince. We did them that way purposely because we needed some hits--who the hell knew what a hit was anyway? We never cared in the early days. We did a couple of songs that were cut and dry like 'Angel' and 'Dude'. I think it's more in our blood to want to take a risk; to take the chance of something flopping and dying, but doing something new as opposed to something like the last."
Rumour had it that the album's first draft was rejected by Geffen--that they wanted more 'hits'.
"I remember how Joe and I felt when the A&R people came in and said, 'We need songs like 'Dude' and 'Angel'--we both didn't like the way that sounded. We wanted to take a chance and put something out that's a little heavy on the ballad, heavy on the chorus...and on the nuts. We did a full-blown orchestra in the end that starts off with Joe on the dulcimer. It's almost like the reason a dog licks his balls--it's because he can! Which is not so funny though because it's in our blood."
"Plus," adds Perry, "with 'Permanent Vacation' we found out after it was out, when we were on the road, that certain songs didn't work for us. We're interested in the airplay and having people like our songs--we're not doing it to say 'fuck you.' With this record, I think we sat back and listened to it before it came out with that objective look so that we wouldn't fall into that trap--having it printed into two-and-a-half-million copies, and us start to not like it halfway through the tour. Because of these experiences, we did a lot of editing before the record came out, and that's another reason why we ended up pulling back and writing a bunch more songs."
"We were really fortunate that we had the time," recalls Tyler. "There were murmurings between (A&R rep) John (Kalodner) and myself--'Jesus, I'd love to go in and do some more songs--we're on a roll and these ones aren't so good,' so we went back and wrote."
"We got the support from the label," states erry, "which was real frustrating, because I like working with a deadline and they were like, 'There's no deadline--you can come out whenever so take all the time you want.' It's really cool to have that kind of support."
As is the case with Aerosmith albums of late, they co-wrote with some of the industry's top names, including Canadian composer Jim Valiance (for album openers "Eat The Rich" and "Get A Grip"), their hit-helper Desmond Child (for "Flesh" and "Crazy"), pro-songwriters Mark Hudson ("Livin' On The Edge" and "Gotta Love It") and Taylor Rhodes ("Cryin"), as well as with Lenny Kravitz ("Line Up") and Damn Yankees Jack Blades and Tommy Shaw ("Shut Up And Dance").
"Well, you kinda hand pick your lunacy!" quips Tyler. "We want over to France to do that pay per view thing with Guns N' Roses, and we ran into Lenny Kravitz. Joe talked to him and it was like, 'Hey, let's write something; let's sit down with a guitar and fuck around, see it we can come up with something.' In the early days I had a fear of doing that because I thought we were gonna have to change our sound, but it never dawned on me that I didn't have to put something out that sounds like them--it's always, 'Let's do something that's Aerosmith because we're the ones who hafta play it live.' We've had some good luck writing with other people, stuff that ain't never even been heard."
They also wrote the album's closing song, the ballad "Amazing", with Richie Supa, who hadn't worked with the band in years. "It's a new song. We did 'Lightening Strikes' and 'Chip Away The Stone' with him. It's one of those that came out pretty fast. I get kind of scared when we come up with a chorus right away, but this one came up and it in grew on me. t oes sound like something that's been around for a while."
Do they feel that their approach to songwriting is different nowadays? "We still have our off days and our on days," contends Tyler. "I know one thing that I could do that I never could before is sit down and, thinking positively, picture ourselves at the Grammy's--tension is mounting; they're getting ready to say your name; and then they say Aerosmith, with 'Ain't That A Bitch'--and so we wrote a song called 'Ain't That A Bitch.' I've never done that before, said, 'Let's write a song about a rock in my shoe.' It was always after the fact--Joe would come up with a lick, and I would go off on a scat and I'd pick words out of my scat. Somebody once said, 'If you write something every day...'--which includes writing something, something, something a hundred times--'as long as you write, you're gonna get better as a writer.' And it never dawned on me to just try to capture in a song what kind of feelings are going down that day."
So what does come first in writing? "Usually the music," responds Perry. 'This time we really got into a groove with writing both, which is something I've always been striving to do because very often you end up with fourteen songs with no lyrics, which becomes a big burden to Steven because he ends up having to sit in a room for weeks writing lyrics."
Conspicuously absent from the writing credits are the other members of Aerosmith--bassist Tom Hamilton, guitarist Brad Whitford, and drummer Joey Kramer. Why were they not involved? 'They were," insists Tyler. "They all wrote their asses off. We just didn't use any of it. There's one song in particular that I love that just never made it under the fence--it's a song called 'Thirteen'. It's got so much emotion that I couldn't write any words--that sounds poetic doesn't it? (laughs) It's a bitch - writing lyrics is one of the hardest things to do."
"People we've worked with have said the same thing," says Perry. "The music just flows out, but, for some reason, when you start having to write shit about what goes on inside and open up, its hard. That's one of the reasons we had such a hard time deciding if we were gonna put 'Amazing' on the record because it came right from the heart--it's like opening the door again, and to think of everybody hearing that is like a real sensitive thing, but I think that's where you really start touching people."
Has Tyler ever thought about tying the lyrics together? "I haven't yet,' he remarks. "Even the conceptual albums in the '70s like 'Tommy'--I'd like to be clever enough to tie them in in a way that you'll only hear after the sixth or seventh listening, not to be so obvious. I haven't yet done that consciously."
One thing that I've always wondered is why their lyrics--some of the most revered in rock--aren't on the records? Contests Tyler, "Because, again, I feel like we're growing into ourselves. There are people that helped put us back on the map, and, for all the right reasons, sometimes we came up with sate things to do, and one of them was to leave the lyrics off and we won't have to put an X-rating on there. And it's not just for words--I got in shit for 'Janie's Got A Gun', and for 'Living On The Other Side'. I had a picture of this beautiful chick with little horns, but they thought that the bible belt in the middle of the States would think we were devil worshippers. So they said let's not take the chance. I say, 'Fuck you! That's me!' They say, 'Do you want a hit single? Do you want to be able to stay on tour for a year-and-a-half?' That's when I go (hesitantly) 'Well...alright.' There's somethings that I don't want to do anymore--I'd rather put the lyrics on there and so be it, and I would rather not change my lyrics on a song-- you'll know what stations not to watch or listen to when they do the edited ] version of a song. [The fans] catch wind of that."
So, in an endeavour to clue into Tyler's psyche, I asked him what comes first--the wit, or the wisdom. After looking at me with a 'tough question' face, Tyler sat back, and responded this way.
"I would have to say right off wit, only because my mind is zeroing in on 'Eat The Rich', and then the wisdom would come from a line like (sings) 'now they're smokin'up the junk bonds / and then they go get stiff/ and they're dancin'at the yacht club with muff and uncle biff / but there's one good thing that happens when you toss your pearls to swine / their attitudes may taste like shit but go real good with wine--eat the rich--somewhere at the end of that I went, 'You're a fuckin'genius! You are a mad man! How do you tie that all in?' It all stems from 'Eat The Rich', the 'How am I gonna do this? Should I take the piss out of people? Should I say how angry I am about people who chuck their money around and don't see that people in the streets are going without?' I'm a little afraid to dive right in and tell it like it is with my anger. I kind of take a sideways approach. With this I took the piss out of them and then came in with the anger--it's kind of like a dance. I believe that it's a kiss of death if you get in there and start banging your fists and professing. I think there's a right time to do that."
Would Tyler say there's always been a read between the lines to be done to his lyrics? "I like to get away with it," he discloses. "All my life I've been told you can't do this and you can't say that, so what better way to say I tucked her in the back room than (sings) I'll show you how to fax in the mailroom and have you home by five. Or on 'Walk This Way'-- that's about a man talking to his son, and catches his son masturbating--back stroke lover was hidin' 'neath the cover until he started talkin' to me / daddy he say, said you ain't seen nothing 'till you're down on a muffin--that's about what a little girl's all about. I remember reading an interview about why lyrics should be more wholesome like Aerosmith's 'Walk This Way', and I thought that I'd done the job righ--it's tongue in cheek and I really get off on it. It's my little vaudeville schtick."
Perry, who's taken to reclining on the couch, jumps in, "I think that there's a constant pain on the record as far as the lyrics go. Looking back at it it's like we're building a house brick by brick, and you're looking at this brick and you're looking at that brick and then you stand back and look at this house and it's got a thing to it. There's a lot of arrogance in the songs."
And a lot of anger too. Why so much of that aspect?
"I'd say I'm pissed off that I let drugs take me down," exclaims Tyler. "I'm pissed off that we had to crawl out of the ashes and be safe. I'm pissed off that I love some of the songs that people call wimpy fuckin' ballads--I love ballads...in my head I'm a romantic. If they only knew what I get off on. I think that's all the angst that you go through being an artist--I have to be able to feel good enough to lend the family parrot to the town crier and let everybody know, and take my lumps as far as what they saw on my sheets the night before."
But they can't be all that pissed off. This current record is the last one they'll be doing for the Geffen label, as, of their next record--due in 1995-- they'll be switching to Sony Music for a deal reportedly worth in excess of $30 million. I asked them about the mega-deal, and what effect it is having on them.
Begins Tyler, "It's that big deal that everybody talks about, yet we haven't seen any money and we won't get it until we go there and give them the first album. Trust me--that day we'll go, 'Heeere it is!' (laughs, as he imitates bringing in a wheelbarrow)."
"We'll get control over our previous catalogue," states Perry in a more serious tone, "and when the shit comes out on a little fuckin' CD player that's this big (squeezes fingers together) we'll have control over the way that sounds. If it comes out in quad we can re-mix it all, and not have anyone tell us otherwise."
"That fuckin' guy--what's-his-name?--gets zip publishing," injects Tyler, "or, in other words, when his greatest hits album comes out with 'Proud Mary' on it et all, he doesn't get penny one...nothing...like the black artists of the '30s and '40s that wrote all the hits for Elvis. So we didn't want to get into that scenario. We already gave away fifty percent of the publishing to Leber Krebs, our first management. That was the deal we signed. Back then, just to get your foot in the door, we'd have done anything. So now we've got some good stuff, and I don't see it at all as deal breakers--I see it as what's fair for the artist."
Being able to realize money from their past is a feat in itself. Once the crowned kings of American rock 'n' roll, and living like it, it wasn't all that long ago that Tyler and Perry were broke and abandoned--Tyler reported recently in an interview that at the time of their first attempted comeback, Done With Mirrors, he was living off only $20 a week.
"Joe and I used to get inebriated all the time, to say the least," recalls Tyler. "Along with that you get some super feelings, like tripping--you can't go to the moon, but you can certainly get close enough by taking LSD and, if you remain that way, you really aren't on earth. You're not experiencing stuff, as your emotions are tainted because of all the drugs. Coming back into reality is hard; shit's hard to deal with. It's really hard being sober all the time. Trust me. I've gotten plastered a lot of times over a lot of angry things, and just plain, 'God Damn, I work hard so I need to get loaded.'
"Drugs are like a bungee cord--you can try it once and say you did it, or you can live it until the rope snaps. You can do it every day and eventually the rope may snap. Drugs are even better--they make you feel so good you feel inhuman. That's when they snap your life right out from underneath you. For a musician it's the kiss of death, because it really loops you in. It gets you away from your fears, your doubts, and your insecurities, and it steals your inspiration. At the beginning it helped me, but, in the end, it'll steal it from you."
If anything has given Aerosmith inspiration to continue on, it must certainly be the love of the music. What is their drug now? "The recording studio," states Tyler. "To me, it's like a drift net for notes. It's there, and it's catching everything. Now I have paper and pencil, and I can log those feelings down. I can sit with a guy and talk about how it used to be, and I get new brain cells. Wonderful stuff is coming up. It's almost like exploring all over again. Sometimes I feel like I'm a little kid."
Comments Perry, "I can remember a time in the late-'70s, early-'80s, when I thought I had written all the best songs I was ever gonna write and that was it. When, in fact, I was finally closing down because of drugs and alcohol. My imagination had shut down. Now it feels like it's slowly being revved up, and I feel as energetic about rock'n' roll as I ever have."
"The music is a rocket sled," continues Tyler. "Brad Whitford wrote a song (scats), and it's on Pandora's Box--that song is screamed for lyrics. It's such a vehicle to come up with stuff that inspires. In the old days I'd put that on and I'd sit and listen and get tucked up on drugs and that's all I needed--I'd get a set of headphones and get on a king size bed, take everything off, and just rock with a pencil and paper--the music just talked to me. That's where the inspiration came from. Sometimes that happens...sometimes.
"Like, for example, 'Eat The Rich'. I had nothing for that fucking song for a year, and I was so pissed off about it. The worst thing for an artist to do is start thinking that it's over, and he's thought his best thoughts. Joe said 'get a grip' (sings and scats)--I didn't have jack shit, I didn't know what to sing there, but I knew something had to be sung there. So I walked around for a year goin' (scats) to the point where I wrote down my scat and loved it. Some people didn't, and I had to go through it all over again. The inspiration usually stems from some sort of anger, or a spur of the moment thing."
"I think that the drive is there," acknowledges Perry. "It's two different things. I get my inspiration from reading the paper, to fuckin' siftin' around and just talking, to going out and reaching for that inspiration in the spirit underneath--that drive to want to write and to create. That, to me, is the essential thing--not to be complacent. I think that when we lost everything we realized that it wasn't all about the blow jobs in the backs of limos and lear jets and all that shit--that's not what we're here for; that's not what we got together for in the '70s. It was about playing music and getting together and being the best band we could. That's what we'd lost, and that's what we've gotten back."
Now that they've gotten it back, do they feel they can do almost anything they want? "That's the kind of shit that gives you a license to really put out shit," remarks Perry. "Fortunately, we have surrounded ourselves with so many people that arent afraid to tell us that we can do better. There's a lot of people that get to our position and surround themselves with 'yes men', and the courier killed the king. Eventually, once that dries up, the fans go away because they sense it too. I don't want to pay $26.00 to go to a concert to see somebody jerk off, fall down on stage, or show up late because that's what they feel like doing. I think that's a really big disservice to the fans. The only reason you're on that fuckin' stage is because people have paid to be entertained. You can't get away with everything for long."
How do they perceive their success today? Do they feel lucky? Replies Tyler, "I feel really lucky just to be able to finish off an idea like 'Janie's Got A Gun' or 'Love In An Elevator' or 'Livin' On The Edge'--to finish it up and say, 'Here it is, take it or leave it.' I just feel real lucky about that. For most of the time we're scared to death about some of the stuff we write. And we have people that go, 'Oh no, that's a hit...not a problem!' and deep inside we've had so many failures. I thought 'Let The Music Do The Talking'--even though the video was fucked--the song and the energy was, in my mind, one of the greatest Aerosmith songs ever written, and it wasn't. I'm not sure what I'm trying to attain. If we were to do that song again, we'd do it much more different, much heavier, it would be a bigger hit."
But now it seems that no matter what they do, they've got a hit. They must know that each note they record is history making. "We know that a lot of people are gonna hear it," Perry acknowledges, "but we don't want to think about it. It's one of those things that gets in the way when you think about it. I just try and tap into how I felt when we first started making records--just trong to make the best record for ourselves. We're aware that right out of the box we're gonna sell a million records, so people are gonna hear it no matter what we put on it. So that kind of weight is on us."
Not only weight, but there must be a constant questioning of their endurance. "It's fuckin' rock 'n' roll, man--it's like primal, it's sexual, it's timeless," stresses Perry. "We're just like ten million other people that get touched by that feeling."
"I must have said this a million times in a million interviews," jumps in Tyler, "of how much I get off watching Joe Perry play 'Draw The Line' on stage. There's presidents, there's Johnny Carson, but there would be nothing that makes my heart pound like that when I'm watching that. I have always thought that an audience was picking up on the vibes created by us really getting off on each other. We've been asked a million times and I still can't figure it out. It must be that."
"We still love the thing," adds Perry. "You go to a Keith Richards show or something, and just before the lights go down you hear the roadie hitting the guitar--I still get goose bumps from that. To me, we're really just basically very selfish, and we're getting off big time. That seems to be something that's really snowballing for us."
But age must be affecting them somehow. Or are they ageless? "I think about jumping up stairs four at a time before I get to them," attests Tyler. "I think about looking up that girl's dress over there too (laughs). It's all the time delving into things that I thought about when I was a little kid. The way I look at myself in the mirror--I go down to the gym and go for the gusto and just hang out. On my time off, if I'm by a lake I'll go water skiing; if I'm by a golf course I'll go for a run on it--but the last thing I'll do is play golf (laughs). All that stuff I think is a way of life for us, and that's what keeps us young."
"I just kinda let go of the whole thing and just get off on what I get off on," maintains Perry. "I don't try to figure it out too much." Steven then begins to sing 'Sun comin'up in the morning / it shines on me'(Iaughs).
How would they now compare the first half of their career to their reborn second half? "I may be retarded, but it doesn't feel like twenty years since we got together in Boston," testifies Tyler. "The last thing I can remember is sifting around trying to figure out where we wanted to have a band--not the name of the band, but where! Figuring that we should go from New Hampshire to Boston to play the college scene, instead of going to New York--then going backstage and seeing the girls with tits from hell and ski0s up to their earlobes...it feels like yesterday. It seems like yesterday when I was pissed off that 'Dream On' wasn't recognized until the third album, instead of the first. Maybe that's keeping my wheels of youth spinning. All the better because I have enough to write about for the next twenty years."