Aerosmith – Aerosmith 52nd Anniversary ‘Legendary’ Edition
Aerosmith – Aerosmith 52nd Anniversary ‘Legendary’ Edition
Ume
Release Date: 20/03/26
Review by Jon Deaux
You’ll have to read to see how I scored the unscorable
I’ve lived through enough of these reissue campaigns to recognize when a veteran band is revisiting their crown jewels, and Aerosmith’s Legendary Edition box set, out March 20th, doesn’t exactly hide the evidence. We’re talking three CDs, five LPs, and a 3D popup diorama that folds out like some sort of Rock ‘n’ Roll advent calendar. This is the museum treatment for an LP that originally limped out of Boston in 1973 looking like a scruffy little dog who hadn’t eaten in three days.
Steven Tyler and Joe Perry, those original co-founding architects of blues-rock debauchery, have gone back and remixed the whole thing from the original tapes with Zakk Cervini, yes, that blink-182 producer, and have come out with a 2024 mix that represents their “unfiltered vision.” Because nothing represents unfiltered like waiting 51 years and hiring a producer who works with Halsey. The newly released “Mama Kin (2024 Mix)” apparently turns things up to 11, which makes me wonder what kind of equipment it was on before. Second? Neutral? Were we all just listening to a parking brake demo for half a century?
What you’re getting with the 3CD Legendary Expanded Edition is the remastered original, the brand new 2024 mix, the previously unreleased live set at Paul’s Mall, which was recorded on March 20, 1973, and a series of bonus tracks that include ‘Harmonica Bass Jam Jelly’ and the almost six-minute ‘Joined At The Hip’, which allegedly includes a sneak peek at the “Sweet Emotion” lick in the bridge, because even back in 1973, these guys knew that you can never start too early on your future hits between PBR runs.
The live performance is likely the most intriguing part of the bunch—a young Aerosmith sweating it out at a nightclub in Boston just a few weeks after the original release, already making their way through ‘Train Kept A Rollin’ and James Brown’s ‘Mother Popcorn’ as well as their own stuff. This is Aerosmith before they were AEROSMITH™, just a bunch of guys with big hair and bigger ambitions, trying to out-Stone the Rolling Stones. You can almost smell the cigarette smoke and bourbon wafting through the digital master. Joey Kramer’s drums sound like he’s beating the hell out of them with his own grudges. Joe Perry’s guitars have that lovely nasty sound that only happens when an amp is either about to die or transcending the very laws of reality—neither of which you can really tell.
The bonus tracks delve deeper into the archaeological strata beneath the known album. ‘Harmonica Bass Jam Jelly’ is exactly as advertised: an unstructured mess, probably recorded at 2 AM in the wee hours of the night, the kind of thing that probably would’ve been lost to the ages had some enterprising assistant engineer not had the presence of mind to hit the record button. ‘Make It’ receives a rehearsal take and a different take, because we just needed to see that again. ‘Write Me A Letter’ receives similar treatment, which is absurd until you realize that to the obsessed fan, this stuff is the very word of God. We need to know what Tom Hamilton’s bass line sounded like before the fourth take. We need to know Brad Whitford’s rhythm guitars in a different groove. We need to believe that these songs were created in the fiery depths of the recording studio, forged in the very fires of Rock ‘n’ Roll.
The press materials play this whole ‘slow-burn underdog’ angle for all it’s worth, and to a certain extent, they’ve earned it. Aerosmith wasn’t exactly an overnight sensation, with ‘Dream On’ taking two and a half years to crack the Top 10, an eternity within the 1970s music world. The album would go on to become a double-platinum album and set the stage for what would become one of the most streamed classic Rock songs of all time (1.5 billion and counting on Spotify), and would set the stage for the entire 50 years of bluesy rockers, ear-shattering vocals, and Steven Tyler’s scarves.
But what exactly is this album, beyond the commemorative packaging? Eight tracks, thirty-four minutes, recorded at Intermedia Studios on Newbury Street when Boston still had a music scene, as opposed to a tech scene and overpriced brunches. ‘Make It’ opens with the band’s signature swagger, with bluesy riffs and Tyler’s vocals entering his now-familiar wail mode before the first verse even begins. ‘Somebody’ launches into a groove that’s basically just rip-off Rock ‘n’ Roll, a la The Rolling Stones, but meaner and hungrier. These guys wanted to be The Rolling Stones and were more than happy to steal the recipe.
And then there’s ‘Dream On’ which remains stupid in the best way imaginable. Steven Tyler, a white kid from Yonkers, New York, impersonates all the gospel singers and soul men the world has ever known and assembles this piano-driven power ballad, which makes no sense and yet makes perfect sense. It’s a prayer, and then it’s a scream, as Tyler’s vocals ascend to ranges that are not humanly possible. It’s melodramatic. It’s overwrought. It’s also impossible to ignore. It’s had 1.5 billion streams and is on every classic rock playlist from now until the end of time. It’s because it speaks to something deep inside all of us about our aspirations, our desperation, and our dreams that will kill us if we don’t live them. ‘One Way Street’ continues the blues stroll, ‘Mama Kin’ rocks out in Garage Rock style, complete with a hook friendly enough to get played on the radio. ‘Write Me a Letter’ slows down the pace without losing any of its attitude, and ‘Movin’ Out’ has the march-like quality of a song that actually will get you to move out of your present situation, which may or may not be a bit of a rut, and ‘Walkin’ the Dog’ closes the record, a cover of a Rufus Thomas tune that proves what we’ve all known all along: Aerosmith knew Rock ‘n’ Roll was just the blues in leather pants and too much eyeliner.
“Dream On” made Rolling Stone’s “500 Greatest Songs of All Time.” It’s been inducted into the GRAMMY’s Hall of Fame in 2018. It’s become a song that exists outside of the band and outside of the genre, a Classic Rock staple that plays at sports events and funerals without anyone complaining about the tonal disparity. Wedding, divorce, graduation, crisis of faith in a dive bar at 1:00 a.m.? ‘Dream On’ has your back.
The live performance on the third disc is worth special consideration, as it is something that could never be replicated in a studio setting, namely, desperation. This is March 20th, 1973, ten weeks after their album has been released, and Aerosmith is playing at Paul’s Mall, a jazz club in the Back Bay section of Boston, which has a seating capacity of maybe 200 people, assuming that everybody in attendance is exhaling at the same time. You can hear that warm analog sound at the beginning, as someone, kind of like an MC, would say, “Please welcome… Aerosmith!” to a crowd that is maybe fifty percent interested, fifty percent bewildered.
And then they launch into ‘Make It’ and you can really hear the difference. This isn’t a slick version from their album, nor is it a carefully constructed version intended to win over radio listeners or fans with their smooth sounds. No, these are five guys who know their album is flopping, who know they are nobodies from Boston trying to compete with Led Zeppelin, with The Who, with all of the other bands that have real hits. These are guys with an edge, with hunger in their voices. Tyler’s between-song banter probably consisted of something like “we got an album out” followed by immediately launching into the next song before anybody could leave to use the bathroom.
‘I Ain’t Got You’ and ‘Mother Popcorn’ show them off as cover bands, happy to play James Brown Funk to stretch their set to fit their forty-five minute slot with only eight originals to draw from. ‘Train Kept A Rollin’, their version of an old Tiny Bradshaw tune, popularized by the Yardbirds, is their anthem, their song saying “we can play fast and loud and we’re going to play until someone makes us stop.”
The live versions are more relaxed, more sloppy, more alive with danger. Brad Whitford’s guitar is occasionally a little sharp, Tom Hamilton’s bass is struggling to be heard above the PA, Joey Kramer’s on the drums like he’s owing them money. This is Aerosmith, the band, rather than the idea, the concept, the name on the album cover. This is them playing for tips, for beer tickets, and maybe, just maybe, someone in the audience would remember them for another week or so.
Timing-wise, this reissue comes on the heels of Aerosmith’s recent collaboration with YUNGBLUD on the “One More Time” EP, an album that somehow managed to get them a place in the Top 10 of six different decades, a feat that’s either impressive or depressing, depending on how you feel about legacy acts refusing to go quietly into that good night. They’ve sold 150 million records, played for 100 million fans, and have accumulated enough gold and platinum records from the RIAA to wallpaper a small mansion. They’re one of only four American Rock bands with more than 90 million RIAA records sold. They have the record for most total RIAA certifications of any American group. They were the first Hard Rock band to play the Super Bowl Halftime Show. They have a theme park attraction at Disney World, Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster, where you can get motion sickness and listen to ‘Love in an Elevator.’
The 2024 releases are probably not even necessary (spoiler alert: they’re not!), but the session recordings, jams, and Paul’s Mall performance are a look back at the band before they became an icon, before the Super Bowl, Disney, and Steven Tyler’s scarves and daughter were more famous than he is. It’s Aerosmith as they were: just another Boston bar band with big dreams and even bigger amps, recorded in some small Newbury Street studio that’s probably smaller than Steven Tyler’s current dressing room.
The releases come with liner notes by music writer Rick Florino and include new interviews with all five original members, as well as comments from Dolly Parton, Slash, Jerry Cantrell, Corey Taylor, Mike McCready, Chris Robinson, and every other rocker who’s ever used an Aerosmith riff in their song. But what does Dolly Parton have to say about the band’s early days? “I admired their dedication to both denim and screaming?” Give me a break.
The iconic photos are by photographer Ross Halfin and feature the band in their youth with cheekbones, leather, and attitude that only a young, talented, and stone-broke band can achieve. The hardback book included in the collector’s edition features photos that have never been seen before, which is probably photos of them packing their gear into a van, smoking cigarettes behind a venue, or just generally looking beautiful in their poverty.
The 5LP set in the collector’s edition comes with a 3D popup diorama, which is extravagantly wonderful or stupidly over-the-top, depending on how you view things regarding novelty items. This comes with a 24″ by 36″ fold-out poster, because you definitely have space for that on the wall in your studio apartment, as well as stickers, because nothing says 2026 like stickers. And, of course, the exclusive clear UV cloud effect 12″ vinyl with both the remastered version of their album as well as their new version of “Dream On” on top of a printed sky-blue slipmat, which is lovely but will probably stain with coffee.
It’s all very prestige, very preservation. We’re talking about Rock ‘n’ Roll taxidermy here. We’re talking about taking the beast, mounting it, stuffing it, putting it in a glass case, and charging admission.
What you’re really paying for with these three discs:
CD1: 2024 Remaster
The same eight tracks you’re familiar with, but louder and clearer. The remaster likely has details that you’ve never picked up on before, but that’s it. You’re not going to reevaluate your feelings about “Mama Kin” because of this. This is for the purists who want to hear the original intent, but with better sound quality.
CD2 (2024 Mix):
Tyler and Perry’s “unfiltered vision,” which I suppose means that Zakk Cervini gets to adjust the knobs however Tyler and Perry want, fifty years later. The cynic in me says that it’s not necessary. The optimist in me says well, maybe they’ve wanted these songs to sound differently in their heads all along, and now they’ve finally got the tools and the clout to make it happen. “Mama Kin (2024 Mix)” is apparently more aggressive, which is to say it’s got more kick in the low end, possibly more brightness in the guitars, and Tyler’s vocals are up front and prominent. It’s like they’re saying, “What if we’d had a ton of money to make this record back in 1973?”
CD3 (PAUL’S MALL LIVE + BONUS TRACKS):
This is where your money is going towards good things. This is historical document territory, and then some. ‘Joined At The Hip’—that six-minute jam session with that proto-“Sweet Emotion” riff—is worth the price of admission for anyone who wants to see the process of creation and innovation. These are not bonus tracks; these are the plans and blueprints upon which the songs were constructed. The session takes and rehearsal recordings are where you see the band working through ideas, jamming, failing, succeeding, and catching lightning in a bottle without even realizing it.
So what do you rate? Do you rate the original album, which is objectively amazing? Do you rate the value for money that you get from buying this collection? Do you rate the necessity of it for you as a consumer? Do you rate the sheer awesomeness of the archival materials? Do you… do you just throw your hands up and flip a coin?
THE ORIGINAL ALBUM: 8.5/10
Aerosmith is a near-classic debut, almost but not quite flawless. It features three stone-cold classics (‘Dream On,’ ‘Mama Kin,’ ‘Movin’ Out’), some pretty good album tracks, and maybe two tracks that show them still working things out. It’s raw, hungry, cocky – qualities that the more refined, slick Aerosmith of the years to come sometimes seemed to forget. The template for their brand of blues-rock is borrowed from the Stones and the Yardbirds, but delivered in a way that’s quintessentially American, quintessentially Boston, quintessentially them. I’m deducting points for ‘Walkin’ The Dog’ being a great cover but feeling like a throwaway track, and more points for still being the band they’d eventually become with *Toys* and *Rocks*. Still, as a debut, it’s ferocious, streamlined, and features tracks that’ve survived fifty years of the airwaves without ever sounding old-fashioned.
THE 2024 REMASTER: 7/10
It’s a good, clean, and probably unnecessary upgrade. The original recording has its own charm and edge, and I’m not sure I want to see that fall to the wayside in favor of sonic purity, no matter how much the audiophiles and owners of high-end headgear are going to love this. The rest of us can probably stick with whatever copy we’ve got. It’s like taking a favorite leather jacket to the dry cleaners – yeah, it looks great, but was that really the point?
THE 2024 MIX: 6.5/10
This one is tough to call without hearing it, but based on what was offered in ‘Mama Kin’ and a lifetime of unnecessary remixes, I’m underwhelmed. Tyler and Perry’s “unfiltered vision” after 51 years? That sounds like a bunch of artists looking back on their history and justifying it because they’ve forgotten what it was like to be young and hungry and recording in a small studio in Boston. The original mix was a moment in time. This mix is a moment in time of a moment in time, filtered through 50 years of success and hindsight. It may be fantastic. It may be Aerosmith playing dress-up as their younger selves with better equipment. We’ll hold off on full judgment until we hear it, but I’m holding off judgment nonetheless.
THE PAUL’S MALL LIVE PERFORMANCE: 9/10
This is the real treasure. This is raw, unbridled, and necessary. This is Aerosmith with nothing to lose and everything to prove, playing for a crowd that doesn’t particularly care. Sound quality? Who cares? It was 1973, and they played a jazz club with whatever equipment was available. Good. Because what I want is a look at Aerosmith as a band, playing live and working out the kinks and building up the chops. I want them playing for a crowd that doesn’t particularly give a damn. I want them playing for a crowd that will help them burn off those extra pounds and excess energy and help them become who they will eventually become. Bonus points for including tracks like ‘I Ain’t Got You’ and ‘Mother Popcorn.’ Bonus points for ‘Train Kept A Rollin’ being gloriously, fantastically sloppy. This is what bonus tracks and reissues are for.
THE BONUS TRACKS: 8/10
‘Joined At The Hip,’ ‘Harmonica Bass Jam Jelly,’ and all the various alternate tracks are the fan service, and they’re done correctly. These aren’t alternate tracks; these are the real deal, the process, the DNA, the connective tissue between inspiration and execution. Listening to the beginnings of ‘Sweet Emotion’ in a 1973 jam session is the kind of revelation that makes you go, “Ah, I see how they came up with their sound!” The alternate tracks of ‘Make It’ and ‘Write Me A Letter’ might not replace the originals, but they might give you a whole new appreciation for why the originals sound the way they sound. Musicians might dig this kind of thing. Casual fans might find it all a little redundant. That’s okay. Not everything is for everybody.
THE PACKAGING/OVERALL VALUE: 7/10
Now things get complicated. The 5LP Collector’s Edition box set with popup diorama, hardback book, Ross Halfin photos, Rick Florio interviews, stickers, posters, commemorative schwag and everything else is a beast of a box set, a tribute to the Aerosmith legacy, overwrought, yes, but lovable in a way only an overwrought box set can be, a physical object in a world of intangibles. The price point will be insane, and I’m sure they have not set a price point yet, so I’m sure it’ll be in the triple digits at least. Worth it? Only if you’re a collector, only if you’re a completist.
The 3CD Legendary Expanded Edition set is probably the way to go if you want to get the remaster, the new mix, the live show, and the bonus tracks without all the extraneous merchandise malarkey.
The single disc editions are just fine for the normals who just want ‘Dream On’ and don’t need ‘Harmonica Bass Jam Jelly’ to go along with it.
The translucent red vinyl is for the people who put records on the wall and don’t actually listen to them.
The bomber jacket is for the people who have more money than sense, or for the people who have the specific kind of sense that involves expressing their Rock fandom through ironic fashion statements.
OVERALL RATING: 7.5/10
The Legendary Edition is a solid, sometimes spectacular, reissue series that proves its worth through the historical significance and compensates for the rest with the pointless remixes and remasters. The original is excellent. The Paul’s Mall show is an epiphany. The bonus tracks are for the fans. The remixes and remasters are probably pointless, but they won’t bother anyone. The packaging is a mixed bag, depending on which version you purchase.
Aerosmith, the legendary, the iconic, the legendary, the iconic, the… Well, you get the idea. They’re going back to the start, before the finish, as they complete the circle and finish the discography. It’s nostalgia marketing, and it’s historical preservation. In fifty years, when someone wants to know how Aerosmith went from ‘Dream On’ and ‘Sweet Emotion’ to AEROSMITH, this box set will be the go-to source.
If you pre-order it, then the 3D diorama is tidy, even if you’ll never be able to place it. And ‘Joined At The Hip’ is worth a spin.
Just don’t waste your money on the bomber jacket.
LINKS
Disclaimer: This review is solely the property of Jon Deaux and Ever Metal. It is strictly forbidden to copy any part of this review, unless you have the strict permission of both parties. Failure to adhere to this will be treated as plagiarism and will be reported to the relevant authorities.
