(Author's Disclaimer:
the following was written while I was in the throes of a particularly nasty
cold. Mistakes - and things that just
plain don't make sense to anyone whose head isn't swimming in soup - will be
corrected later in the week. Comparisons
of my current head space and the band's similarly muddy, if induced by drugs
less legal than NyQuil, one whilst making this album will be snickered at and
dismissed.)
LORD OF THE THIGHS! End of review.
Alright, well not really, but my point is this: if that song
doesn't offer everything you could want out of your loud rock 'n' roll, then
maybe you and I had best not do lunch anytime soon. The clever, snarled - not to mention cleverly
snarled - lyrics. The funky, swaggering
beat (really, there are fewer more underrated rhythm sections than
Kramer/Hamilton). The growling, proto-punk
guitar tone that wouldn't have sounded out of place on the Social Distortion album I was listening to this morning.
The not-quite-buried piano that puts the whole thing over the top. In terms of sex, swagger and smarts - always
the criteria by which rock 'n' roll should be judged, by the way - it's hard to
imagine anyone else's 4:14 that delivers more.
The general consensus of other criticism I've read seems to
be that while Get Your Wings marks a
major step forward from the debut it isn't quite in the same class as the twin
masterpieces that followed it. Sorry,
but only the first half of that statement works for me. The production isn't quite as tight as it
would become, but there is absolutely no difference in quality between these
eight songs and the ones on Toys in the
Attic or Rocks. Get
Your Wings is the work of a band freshly confident in their sound, and a
singer who's just figured out the moves and mannerisms that will make him
iconic in short order. In many ways,
Steven Tyler is the reason that the Aerosmith of Get Your Wings sounds so much more like a band that's truly gone
pro than the band captured on their debut.
On that record, you could compare him to several of his contemporaries;
on Get Your Wings, he's become the
front man to whom endless others will be compared. That's a hugely important shift.
Then there's the songs.
We've already slobbered over "Lord of the Thighs", and you
should already know all about "Same Old Song and Dance" and that riff. The album's other hit-in-retrospect was their
cover of "Train Kept a Rollin'", which immediately rendered all
previous versions (sorry Yardbirds) as well as all future ones (sorry
Motörhead) utterly unnecessary. For all
of that, though, the great secret of Get
Your Wings lies in its lesser-known half: the massive crunch of "SOS
(Too Bad)", the authentic funk of "Pandora's Box", some of the
toughest-sounding psychedelia ever put to vinyl in "Spaced", and
that's all before we even mention...
SEASONS OF WITHER! End of need for bands to
ever record ballads again, with the possible exception of
"Mandocello". Sublime,
beautiful, timeless, cheese factor of zero.
Just like the rest of the album, but even more so.
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