What astounds me is that Aerosmith could create such a stale album and yet somehow cull "Dream On" from the same polluted pool of mediocrity. Granted, they would go on to become one of America's greatest pioneering bands of that lifeless rock sound that currently permeates FM radio and is championed by fucking idiots. Yes, and if you take offense to that, you're a fucking idiot. Most likely you know every Zeppelin, Eagles and Eric Clapton song that is played on the radio by heart -- the last hobo of which your idolatry should have you immediately extracted from the gene pool -- yet you couldn't distinguish a barre chord from the fucking Batmobile and you incessantly violate human decency by asking me to keep playing "Stairway" as if my ear was a fucking coin slot. Either that, or you'll try to convince me that Limp Bizkit really did write "Behind Blue Eyes." So here's to you assholes who help to engender the continued mediocrity in music by not delving into the bands that matter, by being spoon-fed rock pabulum via whatever the fuck you know how to turn on and by being altogether boring company at barbecues. Here's to your glorious Aerosmith, a bluesy wankfest of an album honed to perfection by Mssr. Joseph Perry, elder statesmen of the ho-hum. Here's to Steven Tyler, who showed the world that it could handle more than one big-lipped cock-rocking sex symbol. And here's to "One Way Street," a shit riff built on a tired blues scale; to "Make It" for not sustaining my attention for more than thirty seconds; to "Somebody" and "Write Me" and all those other songs not named "Dream On" and "Mama Kin" that sound exactly the same. 1973, if you do your research, was positively screaming with brilliant albums. How this one stuck around is beyond me. A D is being really nice, but "Dream On" truly is wonderful.
