Steven Tyler: The Biography (15 page)

Columbia Records were unmoved by the news of Aerosmith reforming and chose to stay out of the picture. The following year, referring to this label, Tyler confessed: ‘They were obviously a bit fed up with seeing royalty cheques going direct to drug dealers.’ Another tie to be cut at this time was with the management team of Leber and Krebs; it would prove to be an acrimonious affair. Tyler felt very aggrieved that although Aerosmith had sold millions of albums, each member had precious little to show for it. Steven acknowledged that he had squandered an absolute fortune feeding his addictions but he was certain that, even so, he ought not to be completely broke. The other band members felt exactly the same way. Steve Leber and David Krebs were, and have remained, adamant that the deal they had drawn up with Aerosmith was entirely legal and in line with deals made with other recording stars at that time. Krebs admitted that it had been a good deal for himself and Leber, but has been emphatic that nothing illegal was done in any area of their business arrangements with Aerosmith. Severing from Leber and Krebs was a painful process. Lawsuits were instigated and it was two years before a resolution was found. Tyler’s emotions can still run pretty high when asked to express his personal opinion on this aspect of Aerosmith business.

By early summer, Steven preferred to focus on a major US reunion tour that had been designed to catapult the band back into the public eye. Aptly called Back in the Saddle, this tour saw them flying without a net. They had no record deal and were not taking to the road to back a new album release. Aerosmith was in too fragile a state to be subjected to the intense pressure of trying to come up with new material good enough to withstand the close scrutiny that would inevitably fall on the reformed band, particularly as they entered the changing musical landscape of the mid-1980s. It had been tough enough attempting to put their fraught past behind them when rehearsing their old numbers. Regurgitating those same songs in the spotlight on stage before live and expectant, if not critical, audiences was going to be a stiff acid test in itself.

It is probably no more than could have been expected, but as this reunion tour rolled out, starting in New Hampshire, the picture proved patchy. On occasions, it all knitted well and the old magic was in evidence. At the other end of the spectrum, after some shows Steven quit the stage thoroughly dejected, knowing that things had gone all wrong. He was running on the same nervous adrenalin as his bandmates, and it did not help that with his track record many music critics were watching and waiting for Tyler to black out and take an ignominious header into the audience. Eyes were sharpened on the others, too, to see if the ravages of substance and alcohol abuse were going to take their toll on them. There was a willingness in some quarters to write Aerosmith off as a spent force, a tired relic of the sleazy seventies that was no longer relevant to the music-buying, concert-going public.

Steven was under a lot of pressure and as he was still heavily addicted to heroin and cocaine he inevitably did come crashing down. Quite early into the tour, he collapsed during a gig in Springfield, Illinois. The show had to be cancelled, giving Aerosmith the kind of publicity they did not want. Steven managed to get his act together and the tour continued. Tension was unavoidable and arguments broke out in the band, but each man was determined to take a less emotive attitude to disagreements this time around. None of the five had lost their fire but they were more fearful of extinguishing the flame than once they had been. Under these trying circumstances they held it together to gig throughout the summer.

Away from the stage, it was always at the front of Steven’s mind to nail a new record deal; the key player in that happening in 1984 was A & R man John Kalodner. By the mid-1980s, Kalodner enjoyed a strong reputation in rock circles. Hailing from east coast America and weaned as a teenager on the best of British sixties’ bands, John had immersed himself in popular music from a young age. He first worked with US bands at street level, managing local nightclubs, and for a time he drifted into music journalism. Switching to promotion, he found work with reputable record labels, graduating in time to the realms of artists and repertoire, where he quickly began to make his name. Transferring to west coast America, in 1980 he had pitched up as A & R man at Geffen Records in Los Angeles.

Kalodner had an eye for recognising untapped resources. He went to a couple of Aerosmith gigs during the Back in the Saddle tour and each night came away intrigued. All too aware of their very publicly played out troubles and their lurid reputations for debilitating addictions, he also respected them as having been one of America’s greatest rock bands. Steven Tyler was just thirty-six years old - they were all still young, talented musicians. Provided that they could kick their individual habits, Kalodner believed that the band could potentially be huge again. From a record label’s point of view, at that moment in time, there was great risk attached to investing in Aerosmith, but when Kalodner put his faith in an artist, it usually panned out.

Steven was thrilled when John Kalodner approached them. A good rapport quickly formed and before the end of 1984, Aerosmith was signed to Geffen Records for a reported $7 million advance. Around the same time Tim Collins, who had managed the Joe Perry Project, became Aerosmith’s manager. The band’s reunion tour had come to an end and Steven had to face up to the fact that he still had battles on his hands, and not just with dope. His drinking was of huge concern. He entered a phase when he would check himself into a clinic to dry out but would not stay for long, and was no sooner on the outside than he slipped back all too easily into his bad ways. He confessed: ‘I knew I had to do something and I
wanted
to confront my addictions. So, for a period of a month I went every night to a course in Boston of a psychological nature. There, I was effectively humiliated by being asked publicly to recall the times I made an asshole of myself in front of friends and couldn’t stand up long enough to carry through a show.’ This embarrassing ordeal had no great lasting effect on the grip his addictions had on him, however.

After Aerosmith performed a New Year’s Eve gig at Boston’s Orpheum Theatre, they settled down to work on songs for their first album with Geffen Records. Although some nights on tour had been a strain and everything still felt dangerously brittle, once Steven and Joe got together to write songs for this comeback album it was obvious to them both that they
did
still have that chemistry. The creative spark between them ignited and they were prolific, producing a song per day. In something like four weeks, Steven felt that they were ready to go into the studio.

In a complete departure from their past, their eighth studio album was to be recorded at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley, California, under the aegis of producer Ted Templeman. When Aerosmith turned up, Steven had the tough task of whittling the song collection down to the nine best numbers. He was anxious that everything should be ready for working with Ted, and it showed.

Ted Templeman was an experienced and much sought after record producer who had publicly expressed an interest in working with the reformed Aerosmith, just when the band had been tossing about names of possible producers to approach. Ted was especially attuned to the raw energy that forms the core of Aerosmith’s sound, the rough diamond edginess that, in his opinion, had often been wrongly smoothed down on vinyl. This kind of talk was music to Steven’s ears for it chimed with his own feelings. Ostensibly then, Ted Templeman and Aerosmith made a good match, although the band was a bundle of nerves when showing up at Fantasy Studios.

Recognising this, Templeman let the guys believe for the first couple of days that they were simply running through the selected numbers for his benefit. Secretly, he had the tapes running throughout. ‘It was his way of getting a live ambience into the sound,’ recalled Steven, ‘to get us jiving without pressure. We relaxed and let rip.’ One of the nine songs was a reworked version of Joe Perry’s solo number, ‘Let the Music Do the Talking’. Challenged on whether this was appropriate when the band was looking to make a fresh start, Perry pointed out that he had written the song some time before splitting from the band in 1979, and so essentially it had been penned with Aerosmith in mind. Even when he recorded it for his first solo album, it had niggled at him how it would sound with Steven Tyler’s vocals. When they toured the previous summer, they had road-tested it as an Aerosmith song and liked it. The lyrics had been slightly altered and the arrangement modified so it felt like a natural for inclusion in the album.

As time went on, however, the band reverted alarmingly to type. They had been given a second chance - a new record deal with a new label. They were working on fresh songs with a new producer and in an unfamiliar studio, and they had people behind them who were, against the odds, prepared to believe in their investment. Yet, at the end of each day, when the guys went back to their respective hotel rooms, the drink and drugs would kick in again.

On a happier note, on 21 September 1985, after Joe and Elyssa Perry’s divorce was finalised, Joe and Billie Montgomery married in Maui, Hawaii. Rather than have a lavish ceremony that no one could afford, it was a private, low-key affair and very romantic in beautiful surroundings.

In November,
Done With Mirrors
was released. The ambiguous title tickled Tyler but despite a strong promotional push from Geffen Records, the album petered out at number thirty-six on the US chart, well short of all expectation. The album did not include a lyric sheet, which Steven approved of; his resistance to, as he has put it, ramming the words of songs down people’s throats was very real. Just as Rolling Stones’ music had formed the soundtrack of his own youth, so he hoped that fans would relate Aerosmith songs to whatever was going on in their lives.

To boost
Done With Mirrors
, Aerosmith set out on a US tour that would take them into 1986. The music industry was changing fast and rock shows had by now largely become a dramatic visual stage spectacle. Aerosmith wanted to move with the times, but Steven still felt it vital that they basically delivered a hard rock gig. Steven started this tour very much in rebirth mode. He declared: ‘I feel like it’s ten years ago, again. I feel like the band never was and here we are starting out at the beginning.’ Privately, though, he had mixed emotions, wondering if he would find the necessary verve to sustain a tour. ‘If I’m gonna be good, it can’t be bogus,’ he once said. ‘It’s gotta be me gettin’ off on stage. When you’re on the road for a year, you can go: “Fuck, another show!” But after two minutes of being on stage it’s like ...
all right
!’

Tyler threw himself around the stage, delivering his overtly sexual act - suggestively straddling his scarf-festooned microphone stand, lasciviously panting in ecstasy while shoving his sweat-beaded face, bared chest and abdomen in the faces of the fans filling the front rows. A new generation of music lovers was out there, and it interested Tyler that a lot of the teenagers coming to these shows were familiar with the band’s seventies’ song catalogue. Critics continued to query if Aerosmith could still hope to be relevant, but Tyler was adamant that there was something unique about his band that made it durable. That new bands coming through were citing Aerosmith as their inspiration also helped to keep their name in vogue.

By the tour’s end, however, there was certainly no elation in the band. Steven was in reflective mood as he reviewed their situation with a degree of detachment. Some of their shows had been mediocre and their supposed comeback album,
Done With
Mirrors
, had barely cracked the US Top 40 - no grounds for joy. Regarding the album, when asked if they had been unduly influenced by the need to live up to other people’s expectations, Steven replied: ‘When we climbed out of the hole, got back together and did that album, we had tried to do that for a while and it was really uncomfortable.’ But Brad Whitford was prepared to be more blunt. He stated: ‘We were stupid enough to believe that we could spit on to a piece of vinyl and it would sell.’ Joe Perry opined: ‘When we did
Done With Mirrors
everybody was goin’: “Aerosmith’s back. This is gonna be great. Their new record is gonna be fantastic!” and it wasn’t fantastic but that was probably about the best thing that could have happened to us, artistically.’

There had been talk of Aerosmith taking their
Done With Mirrors
tour to Europe and the Far East, but no one was in any physical condition remotely to contemplate undertaking an arduous round-the-world trek. Brad Whitford and Joey Kramer were both struggling with serious drink problems. Tom Hamilton was attached to cocaine and, like Joe Perry, Steven was strung out on a variety of his favourite stimulants. Steven had tested his body and brain for far too long. Pushed almost beyond the limit now, surely something would soon snap.

CHAPTER 9

Where Angels Fear To Tread

THE TURNING
point for Tyler and Aerosmith was not too far down the road, but before that, in spring 1986, an unlooked-for opportunity came their way. Producer Rick Rubin had contacted the band’s manager, Tim Collins, to ask if Steven and Joe would perform with Run D.M.C. on a rap rendition of ‘Walk This Way’. Run D.M.C. comprised Joseph ‘Run’ Simmons, Darryl ‘D’ McDaniels and Jason Mizell, also known as DJ ‘Jam Master Jay’, all of whom grew up in Hollis, Queens, New York. Formed in 1982 and considered to be pioneers of rap, their two hip hop albums had failed to breach the Top 50. Working on a third offering, they thought that it might be interesting to mesh rap with a rock number. ‘Hip hop wasn’t a new thing,’ said Rick Rubin. ‘It’d been around for about ten years - it started in the clubs in the Bronx.’ Run D.M.C. was more than amenable to the producer’s idea of getting together with the pair from Aerosmith to rework ‘Walk This Way’. Said Joseph Simmons: ‘We used to rap over the original record before we got into makin’ records ourselves.’