Music is a powerful force. It can elicit ineffable joy and deep sorrow; it can take us to imaginary landscapes beyond thought or logic; and it makes the sexual act slightly less terrifying. (My current baby-making music mix is heavy on Primus, with a dash of Bobby McFerrin for the afterglow.)
Music aficionados will know the big news this week was Paul McCartney’s courageous announcement that Yoko Ono didn’t break up the Beatles. And, as if that bombshell weren’t enough to make us reconsider our lives and abandon our families and carve question marks into our foreheads, we’re just one week away from the release of Aerosmith’s fifteenth studio album. It’s like a musical hurricane over here! I’ll get the sandbags if you get the shotgun.
Aside from being one of the most respected living songwriters, Paul McCartney is also a stand-up guy. That much became apparent this week when Sir Paul flexed his ethical muscles and declared that, despite all the nasty rumours that have swirled around for the past forty-two years, Yoko Ono was not, in fact, responsible for breaking up the Beatles. Crisis averted for Ms. Ono. No harm, no foul. And all McCartney had to do was open his mouth and let the truth shoot out.
To those who criticize McCartney for taking so long to speak up on Yoko’s behalf, I say this: haste makes waste. Paul McCartney wanted to be 100 percent certain that Yoko Ono hadn’t broken up the Beatles before he went a-blabbing to the press. That it took him forty-two years to finish his Beatles autopsy is a testament to the guy’s thoroughness and professionalism; in fact, we can read his entire post-Beatles career as a study in Ono’s innocence. I’m sure she’s dashing off a thank-you card as I write this.
But enough about the Beatles. Let’s move on to something even better: Aerosmith. These haggard Boston bad boys are about to release Music From Another Dimension, their first studio album since 2004’s Honkin’ on Bobo, a pagan children’s record. Work on Dimension began six years ago, but was interrupted by scheduling issues, health problems, and perpetually horny singer Steven Tyler’s much-publicized battle with falling off stages. For a while there, it looked like Honkin’ on Bobo would be Aerosmith’s swan song, which had me and my friends honkin’ on sadness.
Thankfully, God intervened to reunite Aerosmith and give us the highly erotic Music From Another Dimension. My tip to the squeamish: don’t let the album’s provocative title scare you away. Judging by its first single, “Legendary Child,” this “other dimension” sounds reassuringly similar to the one that produced Aerosmith in the first place (i.e. a Utopia for blues-infused penis rock). Speaking of interdimensional travel, can you imagine how thrilling it would be to travel to all the way to another dimension and find Aerosmith there, playing rock music without a care in the world? I’d love that!
It’s a tough call this week, but I’m going to hand the win to Aerosmith. Yes, Paul McCartney is great, but he doesn’t hold the same seductive allure as interdimensional time travel with Aerosmith. So, see you on the flipside, everybody—and here’s hoping the new dimension takes Canadian currency!
