Aerosmith, "Back in the Saddle" (8 Track Camaro Classics)

I was born in the mid-70s, around the time of Aerosmith's first popular high point. By the time I was listening to pop music circa 1982, they had fallen off the map. American wanted its MTV and all the frothy British New Wave acts that actually had good videos. Aerosmith was drowning in a sea of drugs and their brand of AOR was no longer au courrant. 

Inexplicably, they managed to mount a comeback with 1986's Permanent Vacation, and their pairing with Run DMC (who I adored) put them on my radar. As far as I was concerned, they were just a more experienced version of Poison and all the other lame hair metal bands of the time. I had no clue of their earlier incarnation until I started listening to classic rock radio circa 1991. All of a sudden, I was exposed to a very different and far more vital band. 

This band rocked savagely, the edges not worn down by 80s production techniques. My favorite of that era then and now is "Back in the Saddle Again." ("Sweet Emotion" is a strong second.) It has a momentous buildup, sounding like the soundtrack of an old horror movie during a scene when the monster is secretly creeping behind the hero. 

Then, all of a sudden, BLAM!

Steven Tyler gives his best scream of "I'M BAAAAACK!" and Joe Perry and Tom Hamilton unleash a truly monster riff, smashing through the speaker like Bigfoot crushing cars. Joey Kramer lays down a swaggering, swinging beat made for strutting down the street with this on your headphones. Brad Whitford jumps in with spashes of screeching guitar, like paint splattering against a canvas. The energy is just completely off the charts, but somehow it manages to keep building across the song to the point that it almost overheats and explodes until it settles into a groovy coda.

Put this in your Camaro and you'll blow the bloody doors off. 

Humble Pie, "I Don't Need No Doctor" (8 Track Camaro Classics)

Some bands have the hits but get tagged with "I heard they suck live." Others can't seem to buy a slot on the charts, but draw massive audiences for their live shows. Back in the 70s, Humble Pie was one of the latter. Part of the armada of dirtbag boogie rock bands of the era, they were distinguished by their super group status, drawing together Peter Frampton and the Small Faces' Steve Marriott. 

Appropriately, their double live album Performance: Rockin' the Fillmore was their only gold record. Their studio songs missed a certain intensity that comes out loud and clear on the live album. The album ends with a true boogie rock apotheosis, "I Don't Need No Doctor." The song starts with Marriott telling the crowd that "it's been a gas" before launching into an absolutely killer riff that the bass player doubles up on. It sounds like a runaway semi truck and Marriott gives it some of his most spine-tingling screams. Did I forget to mention that there's cowbell?

That cowbell clangs hard in the middle section, the crowd energetically clapping along, before the reprise of the riff hits harder than a baseball bat spiked with nails. It's nine minutes of absolute 8 track Camaro rock mayhem. It was the band's biggest hit in the US to date, going all the way to...73. Liked I said, some bands couldn't buy a hit, which is a damn shame in this case. 

"Rock and Roll All Nite" (8 Track Camaro Classics)

A few weeks ago someone on Twitter asked if there was a band you despised with one song that you loved. My answer was immediate: "Rock and Roll All Nite" by KISS.

Let's be clear from the start: KISS sucks. They were a marketing campaign in search of a band. They could generate riffs but were incapable of building full songs around them. Ace Frehley's solo "Back in the New York Groove" is better than any of the band's songs. Gene Simmons is the poster-boy for Boomer self-regard in all of its nasty sociopathy. Paul Stanley's stage banter is Spinal Tap-level self-parody. Their biggest hit, "Beth," came from their drummer and is embarrassingly clunky. It also does not rock. 

However, out of this smelly turd grew the gorgeous rose of "Rock and Roll All Nite," one of the ultimate 8 track Camaro tracks. The riff is an up-tempo monster and the rhythm swings behind it. Unlike other KISS songs, the riff actually goes somewhere, right into the truly anthemic sing-along chorus. It proclaims the creed of 8 track Camaro rock to have a great time at all costs, to rock and roll all night and party every day. I dare you to try to resist singing along. 

Beyond the words, it embodies the true willfully stupid spirit of 8 track Camaro rock. The whole point is to lose yourself in the noise and fun. In the middle of a hard week full of hard work, it feels good.  

Introducing 8 Track Camaro Rock Classics

I've been neglecting this blog in favor of chasing clout on Substack, and that makes me kind of sad. I want to reserve this space for the hardcore nerds who bother to read the really obscure stuff that bubbles out of my head. With that in mind, I am starting a new series: 70s Camaro Rock Classics.

We all have our guilty pleasures, and a genre of music I call 8 Track Camaro Rock is my biggest. This is the kind of dumb, loud, meathead hard rock music that you can imagine some reprobate would be blasting out of the 8 track deck of his souped up Camaro circa 1975 while taking hits from a bag of airplane glue. 

I've been a good little boy and pretty sensible all my life, but I get my bad side out of my system through music. I may wear collared shirts and dress shoes to work every day, but on the subway ride in I will be blasting some Foghat into my headphones. I try to be a sensitive man, so I get a guilty thrill out of the sexist macho in this music. I am an intellectual who reads at least a book a week, but sometimes I have to listen to lyrics written on the third grade level. 

This is the kind of music that no rock critic takes seriously, and they're actually right. I'll be highlighting these songs over the next few months, and having fun along the way. I'm also aiming to bring in some deep cuts, and not just the best known tracks of the genre. 

I am going to start with a band near and dear to my heart, REO Speedwagon. They started in Champaign, Illinois, where I spent some of the best years of my life. I always thought they were a cheesy 80s power ballad band, then a friend introduced me to their 70s 8 track Camaro classics. Before they hit the big time, they wandered through the polyester decade with album after album of boogie rocking. 

"157 Riverside Avenue" was the highlight of their first album, one they have played in concert since. In fact, it's best heard on their tragically named double live album You Get What You Play For. By that point, the band had honed their arena rock skills through years of touring. In this version you can hear the absolutely searing guitar work of Gary Richrath, someone who ought to be classified among the greats of his era, a kind of Midwestern Peter Green. 

The double live album itself is the greatest cultural relic of 8 Track Camaro Rock. The rock show was truly the place to be back then, and in case you passed out in the parking lot after smoking a J and drinking one too many Old Milwaukees, you could go down to the record store and bring the rock show home with you. At its base, 8 Track Camaro Rock is just about letting loose with some big dumb stupid fun. We could all use a dose of that. (REO Speedwagon in the 80s certainly could have, too.)