Rocks: My Life in and Out of Aerosmith by Joe Perry

Author:Joe Perry [Perry, Joe]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: kickass.to, ScreamQueen
ISBN: 9781476714547
Google: sFYhoAEACAAJ
Amazon: 1476714541
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2014-10-07T05:00:00+00:00

Nineteen seventy-nine had to be one of the lowest years of my life. Approaching twenty-nine, I felt disgust on all sorts of levels. I realized that my marriage had hit a dead end but I didn’t have the wherewithal to end it. I realized that the band’s drugging and drinking—including my own—was out of hand, yet no one felt any compunction to curb it. Musically, the band was on cruise control. We were playing the same shit we’d been playing for years. If Steven and I had found a way to deal with our differences, that would have helped. But we were farther apart than ever. He saw Elyssa—and my willingness to lose myself in my relationship with her—as the cause of Aerosmith’s problems. The band members never addressed those problems. We never had open and frank discussions about what was wrong. Instead, Elyssa was used as the scapegoat for many Aerosmith issues.

I was never part of the boys’ club. I had no fondness for the after-the-show blow-job room. While I liked losing myself in chemicals, losing myself in anonymous sexual mayhem was not my style. I’m a one-woman man.

The insanity of our tour-record-tour-record cycle was going into its eighth year. What was required was creative renewal. We needed fresh energy and new ideas. That’s when we started planning the next record.

The struggle was more monumental than ever. The five of us were able to come up with a bunch of song ideas. That happened at the Wherehouse in Waltham. Then when we went to Media Sound in New York to record the tracks, Steven was there to help out with the arrangements and the recording. I thought we cut some of the best tracks we’d ever done. The guitar interplay between me and Brad broke new ground. Everyone was at the top of his game. When it came time for lyrics and vocals, though, Steven began to drift away.

Slowly, progress ground to a halt. I started to get annoyed, then aggravated, and then out-and-out pissed. I’d been working these tracks along with Tom, Brad, and Joey. They were hot. For example, I was switching between a bottleneck to a six-string to a lap steel on something called “Cheesecake.” But nothing could be finished without Steven. Weeks went by. Then months.

This was when Leber-Krebs decided to hold one of their rare meetings to review our financial status.

“The band is broke,” said Krebs, “and you’ll have to do some festivals in between recording your new album.”

We had never done that before. When we toured, we toured; when we recorded, we recorded. That was our ironclad ritual. When I objected to changing the long-established routine, David Krebs said we had no choice. Beyond being broke, each of us owed money for our in-room hotel charges from the previous tours.

I wondered how in hell that could be. We’d headlined some of the biggest festivals in the history of rock and roll. We’d been selling out arenas for years. We’d made untold millions. Where

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