Tag Archives: Permanent Vacation

Rocks In The Attic #717: Desmond Child & Rouge – ‘Desmond Child & Rouge’ (1979)

RITA#717My quest to purchase every Aerosmith-related record continues with this, the 1979 debut album by Desmond Child and his vocal group, Rouge.

In 1987, Desmond Child was one of the first ‘song doctors’ employed by Aerosmith to co-write radio-friendly hits to re-energise their career. He co-wrote the Permanent Vacation singles Dude (Looks Like A Lady) and Angel – which hit #14 and #3 on the Billboard chart respectively – and the album opener Heart’s Done Time.

His success with Bon Jovi dwarfs his first run with Aerosmith – a year before Permanent Vacation he co-wrote You Give Love A Bad Name and Living On A Prayer, both hitting #1 for the New Jersey band. Aerosmith manager Tim Collins and Geffen A&R man John Kalodner knew what they were doing in seeking Child’s services.

Child Services?!?!?

Desmond Child would continue to work with Aerosmith throughout their tenure at Geffen. He contributed to What It Takes and F.I.N.E. from 1989’s Pump, Crazy and Flesh from 1993’s Get A Grip and finally Hole In My Soul from 1997’s Nine Lives.

He’s an integral figure in that late-‘80s hard rock scene, writing and producing the entirety of Alice Cooper’s 1989 album Trash, and working with the likes of Kiss, Joan Jett & The Blackhearts, Ratt, Steve Vai.

So what does this 1979 ‘solo’ record sound like? Well, you can definitely hear the genesis of a hit-making song-writer in there. It’s perhaps closest to Bon Jovi than any of his other associates. ‘Hit single’ (according to the hype sticker, but only if reaching #51 is your definition of a hit) Our Love Is Insane definitely has a killer bass line, and the playing (by studio musicians) is without fault throughout the record.

Child shares vocal duties with the three singers in Rouge – Myriam Valle, Maria Vidal, and Diana Grasselli – and they give the album a soulful, Chic / Sister Sledge feeling. This turns out to be the record’s downfall. It tries to be everything – soul, rock, pop, funk – and doesn’t pull strongly enough in either direction. Jack of all trades, master of none.

Hit: Our Love Is Insane

Hidden Gem: City In Heat

RITA#717a

Rocks In The Attic #638: Metallica – ‘Metallica’ (1991)

RITA#638The top-selling album of the past 25 years, or so the hype sticker says, this takes me back. When I was fourteen, this sounding like nothing else: heavy, thunderous, massive. Plenty of the bands I was into at the time were loud and heavy, but Metallica’s Black Album (as this record became to be known) just sounded huge.

Now, of course, it seems quite tame. Strip away the bombast and what you’re left with is a well recorded, well engineered and well produced heavy rock album. After four records of long-form songs that straddled the fence between thrash-metal and prog-metal, the band took a chance by employing Bob Rock in the producer’s chair.

Rock had engineered Bob Jovi’s Slippery When Wet (1986) and Aerosmith’s Permanent Vacation (1987), before winning acclaim for producing Mötley Crue’s Dr. Feelgood (1989). The big difference he brought to Metallica was in commercialising their sound, slowing them down in tempo, and shortening their songs. The Metallica of old would pack as many ideas as possible into one song, lasting anywhere between four and nine minutes, before running out of ideas. The Black Album’s songs are boiled down in their arrangements, to the extent that they become radio-friendly, almost…dare I say it…structured like pop songs.

As much as I loved it as a teenager, the record has definitely lost a lot of its appeal in the intervening years. Radio has done to this record as a metal album what it has done for Led Zeppelin II as a rock album: overplayed it to death. There’s no intrigue left. Hetfield, Hammett, Newsted and Ulrich used to be enigmatic (to a degree), but watching the band sit around with their analyst in Some Kind Of Monster (2004) showed that they’re very much real people, plagued by the kinds of insecurities and anxieties that stifle us all.

Hit: Enter Sandman

Hidden Gem: My Friend Of Misery

Rocks In The Attic #573: Aerosmith – ‘Brand New Song And Dance’ (1986)

RITA#573I love a good Aerosmith bootleg, and this one’s a peach. Recorded on March 12th 1986 whilst touring the Done With Mirrors album, this captures the band in an energetic form. The show was recorded in Worcester, Massachusetts which makes it a homecoming gig for the band, and this probably explains why the show was professionally recorded and transmitted on radio.

I really love Done With Mirrors – it’s a lovely little album with a lot of charm, just mightily underproduced – and so it’s a real treat to hear them playing the songs from the record while they’re still fresh. Alongside five songs from that record, we also get treated to a rendition of No Surprize, a song that has long since slipped from Aerosmith setlists in the intervening years. As at the time of writing (March 2017) they haven’t played it live since 2002. Sweet Emotion is noticeably absent, but the full set-list for the performance lists them playing it that night. Also not captured on record was a rendition of Bone To Bone (Coney Island White Fish Boy); another gem they don’t play live too often.

Looking at my Aerosmith collection, alongside all of the official studio records, live albums and many, many compilations, I now seem to have a burgeoning pile of Aero-bootlegs. I have recordings from the tours to promote 1973’s self-titled debut, 1975’s Toys In The Attic, 1979’s Night In The Ruts, 1987’s Permanent Vacation and now 1985’s Done With Mirrors. I might try to fill in some of those blanks, especially as I know that bootleg recordings exist on vinyl for most of their tours up until the 1990s. A new goal is born!

Hit: Walk This Way

Hidden Gem: Let The Music Do The Talking

Rocks In The Attic #562: Various Artists – ‘Less Than Zero (O.S.T.)’ (1987)

rita562I watched this film for the first time recently. I’d always been aware of it because it’s one of a handful of notable soundtrack appearances by Aerosmith from around this time. The Aerosmith completist in me searched this record out long before I had a chance to watch the movie.

The soundtrack opens strongly with a Permanent Vacation-era Aerosmith rocking out to a cover of Huey “Piano” Smith’s Rockin’ Pneumonia And The Boogie Woogie Flu. Drummer Joey Kramer is on fine powerhouse form, and the band really sound as young and energetic as anybody else, enjoying their second lease of life in post-rehab sobriety. The record was released by Def Jam, and many of the songs were produced by Rick Rubin, so I can only presume Aerosmith are included as a result of the Run-DMC connection.

The rest of the record – mostly cover songs – is a patchy affair. Poison’s weak attempt at Kiss’ Rock And Roll All Nite belies the whole glam rock movement’s claim to artistic merit, Slayer’s version of Iron Butterfly’s In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida is fun, while the Bangles’ version of Simon and Garfunkel’s Hazy Shade Of Winter sounds like they’re on autopilot.

So I sat down to finally watch the film I knew the music of so well. I really wish I hadn’t. If anything, Less Than Zero resembles the awful St. Elmo’s Fire in terms of its shallow posturing, although it is slightly harder-edged coming a couple of years after that earlier film. As an adaptation of Bret Easton Ellis’s debut novel, I have trouble seeing any of his satire on the screen as it seems to have been overwhelmed by big gloop of late-‘80s Hollywood sheen that engulfs the film.

Something terrible happened as I watched the final act of the film. I got a slap in the face from déjà vu when Andrew McCarthy’s character narrowly prevented Robert Downey, Jr.’s character from taking part in a gay tryst. Then, in the final shot of the film where McCarthy, Downey, Jr. and Jami Gertz are driving off into the sunset, and McCarthy realises that Downey, Jr. has died from a drug overdose, I had a realisation myself. I had seen this film before. I just hadn’t remembered it because it was so forgettable.

Hit: A Hazy Shade Of Winter – The Bangles

Hidden Gem: Rockin’ Pneumonia And The Boogie Woogie Flu – Aerosmith

Rocks In The Attic #512: Aerosmith – ‘Anthology’ (1988)

RITA#512Last night I finally watched Penelope Spheeris’ documentary The Decline Of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years. It’s something I’ve been looking for ever since I saw the first instalment on the 1979 L.A. punk rock scene. I’d heard about Part II ever since I’ve been an Aerosmith fan, and it didn’t disappoint.

Spheeris’ second film in the trilogy charts the comings and goings of L.A.’s glam metal bands from 1986 to 1988, all vying for stardom and attempting to out-do each other in the process. At first glance it’s not immediately clear who’s male and who’s female; the make-up and hairspray is so thick. And speaking of thick, there doesn’t seem to be a smart person among them. They’re the embodiment of Spinal Tap, without a trace of irony or self-awareness.

Intercut with these interviews and live performances are context-providing talking heads with the elder statesmen of the genre: Kiss’ Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons, Alice Cooper, Ozzy Osbourne, Lemmy from Motörhead, Dave Mustaine from Megadeth, and Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler and Joe Perry.

Aside from the absurdity of  the sections featuring Paul Stanley (lying in a bed with four lace-wearing groupies) and Gene Simmons (standing in a ladies’ clothes store, ogling at women), these interviews are reasonably candid and they come across much better than the young upstarts who are trying to make a name for themselves in the dingy Sunset Strip bars.

Alice Cooper particularly is as lucid as ever, and it’s refreshing to see Ozzy talk openly about the metal scene without the mumble he’s now commonly associated with. Tyler and Perry come across well, with the pair being able to talk with an air of stateliness, having recently hit the big time for a second time with 1987’s Permanent Vacation album.

Their sections are not too different from the content of the interviews in 1989’s The Making Of Pump documentary, with Tyler reeling off soundbites about his drug addictions, and Perry sounding as lugubrious as usual. It must be hard to summon the effort to talk about anything with enthusiasm when your adrenaline reserves have been destroyed through years of drug abuse.

One short shot in the film doesn’t ring quite true. After we’ve seen a domesticated Ozzy cook a fried breakfast with no issues, he goes to pour a bottle of orange juice into some glasses on the kitchen table, and Spheeris cynically inserts a shot of him spilling the orange juice as though he has the shakes. It’s obvious that it’s fake, and exists solely to make Ozzy look like he can’t handle sobriety. The end result is that you lose respect for Spheeris as a filmmaker. She might point her cameras at subjects she believes to be ridiculous, but at least they’re being honest.

Anthology is a rare West German compilation of Aerosmith’s early Columbia output, released on the UK label Castle Communications in 1988. It includes a heap of tracks that don’t feature on any other compilation, so you get, for example, the likes of Push Comes To Shove and the title track from 1982’s Rock In A Hard Place, the mis-titled Bite The Hand That Feeds and Sight For Sore Eyes from 1977’s Draw The Line, and several tracks from 1978’s Live! Bootleg – stadium performances of Walk This Way and Back In The Saddle, and the awesome 1973 Paul’s Mall performance of James Brown’s Mother Popcorn.

Hit: Sweet Emotion

Hidden Gem: Mother Popcorn (Live)

Rocks In The Attic #404: Aerosmith – ‘Big Ones’ (1994)

RITA#404If not the worst record cover in my collection, this is definitely a candidate for worst compilation cover. It’s absolutely gross and looks like they paid an intern to design it in a really early copy of Microsoft Paint. It’s unforgiveable too – this is a band that had brought in millions and millions of album sales for Geffen Records over the prior seven years. The very least Geffen could do was to commission a proper artist. In fact, simple black font on a white background would have looked better. That font they used in the end is just a little too close to comic sans for my liking.

But what of the music? This was the first compilation of the Geffen-era Aerosmith. As such, it’s essentially hit single after hit single from their time in the glossy MTV era; all power-ballads and country-tinged rock. There are a couple of unreleased tracks – Walk On Water and Blind Man – along with Deuces Are Wild, a song from the soundtrack to The Beavis And Butt-Head Experience. Other than that though, the compilation is just a collection of their singles from Permanent Vacation right up to Get A Grip, their last studio album for Geffen. The singles from Done With Mirrors, the band’s first studio album for Geffen in 1985, are noticeably absent – probably due to space limitations and the fact that they hardly set the world on fire at the time.

Of the albums it does cover, the only singles it ignores are Hangman Jury ­– the first single from Permanent Vacation – and Shut Up And Dance, the sixth (sixth out of seven!) single from Get A Grip. Neither of these releases were supported by promotional videos, so therein lies the rub – this is just a collection of the songs from their hit MTV videos, a cynical way to sequence a compilation, if I’ve ever heard one. And unless I’m wrong, the video to Eat The Rich – included on this album – didn’t appear commercially until they released the video compilation of Big Ones.

On a side note, I recently saw the set list from the first time I saw Aerosmith, in 1993. Now either I’ve remembered things completely wrong, but the set list up on that website is incorrect. There’s no way on earth that they played so much ‘70s material at that show. Toys In The Attic, Back In The Saddle, Draw The Line, Last Child and Rats In The Cellar were NOT played that night.

One of my biggest gripes with the band – and believe me, there are many – was their seemingly steadfast refusal to play anything from the ‘70s (other than the ‘big three’ of Walk This Way, Dream On and Sweet Emotion) on the Get A Grip and Nine Lives tours, at least in Europe. It wasn’t until I saw them in the mid-2000s that I saw them play a decent amount of ‘70s material.

I was lucky enough to see the band play Mama Kin in Birmingham in 1997, but even that seemed like an afterthought because they had some time to spare at the end of their set (as they were preparing to leave the stage, I remember Joe Perry launching into the main riff, causing the rest of the band to run back to their instruments).

Hit: Love In An Elevator

Hidden Gem: Walk On Water

Rocks In The Attic #348: Aerosmith – ‘Gems’ (1988)

RITA#348If any album reminds me of delivering newspapers on cold, foggy Sunday mornings, it’s this one. I know it’s clichéd to think of your formative years fondly (nostalgia ain’t what it used to be), but I really do look back on those times with a smile on my face.

I used to look forward to Sunday mornings – yes it was hard work, and the back-breaking weight of Sunday newspapers has left an indelible mark on me, in the form of my bad posture – but it gave me the opportunity to listen to Aerosmith on my walkman for a good four or five hours.

This album soundtracked a lot of moments – like the time I walked back past a house I had just delivered to, only to see the lady of the house – a hot blonde in her late 20s / early 30s – open the front door in her birthday suit to collect the newspaper off the floor of the porch.

Or the times when I’d be walking along Alpine Drive, immersed in my headphones only to be bearhugged by a massive Old English Sheepdog that lived on that street. If ever a dog looked like a medium-sized man wearing a fancy dress costume, it was that one. It made it all the more ominous that you couldn’t see his eyes because of his big, floppy fringe. After the shock of my heart stopping, it was nice to see his big, dopey smile and hug him back.

One time I delivered to a house on Holme Crescent – a cul de sac on a newer housing estate. I drove my bike up the garden path and pulled up, side-on to the front door. Still sat on my bike, I forced their immense Sunday newspaper – probably one of the broadsheets, with about three dozen sections and magazines – into their tiny letter-box. I struggled with the first couple of sections, and heard a ringing noise, far off in distance. I tried again, breaking the newspaper further and further down until it felt like I was posting a page at a time. Again, I could hear ringing and it seemed to coincide with each time I pushed something through the letter-box. Just as I neared the end of my ordeal, I realised where the ringing was coming from – the side-end of my bike’s handlebars was pressing against the doorbell of the house I was delivering to. I took off quickly, looking back to see somebody peer angrily under the net curtains of their bedroom window.

Gems is a great Aerosmith record. It might be a compilation, but it’s probably their best one – and there’s been many. It was the second compilation to be released, after 1980’s woeful Aerosmith’s Greatest Hits – and clearly released by their former label CBS to cash-in on their late-‘80s resurgence on Geffen after 1987’s Permanent Vacation.  The album title – and cover – also seems to borrow more than a little inspiration from 1976’s Rocks – but hey, who cares? Whatever sells records, right?

It might be missing their big three singles: Walk This Way, Sweet Emotion and Dream On – all of which feature strongly on Aerosmith’s Greatest Hits, but their absence is turned to the album’s advantage. Rather than focusing on the band’s biggest singles, like most compilations would do, Gems collects together twelve album tracks – deep cuts from the heavier end of their back-catalogue.

Each of the band’s Columbia studio albums are represented, with Get Your Wings (2 tracks), Toys In The Attic (2) and Rocks (3) all featuring more than one song. The real gem on the album though, and the reason the album is an essential addition to the band’s canon, is the studio version of Chip Away The Stone – the b-side to their 1978 cover of the Beatles’ Come Together.

Hit: Train Kept A-Rollin’

Hidden Gem: Chip Away The Stone