personal force as a front man, his infectious impudence and marketable charisma that connected with every person in the place. Tyler will always remember Clive Davis delivering the hackneyed old line to him that night: ‘I’m gonna make you a star.’
The $125,000 advance sounded a lot of money, especially in 1972, but by the time it was carved up in all directions and when it became obvious exactly what this sum would be offset against, the truth was that Steven and the others were left far from flush in the pocket. Tom Hamilton has maintained that it was the mid-1970s before the band members received any more money from record royalties. Obtaining gigs remained a top priority for visibility and cash. Nonetheless, being signed to a major label and having a strong management team in place gave Steven a massive lift. Creativity was bursting to get out of him as a songwriter and as a magnetic performer. He was quickly cast in the role of a rock and roll gypsy because of his penchant for dressing in bright colours and containing his long hair with flowing head-bands. His use of dramatic make-up to accentuate his striking features, and in time his propensity to dangle a bottle of Jack Daniel’s from one hand on stage also ensured that he made an impact. But above all it was his full throttle delivery of punchy hard rock numbers which made people take heed of him and would earn him the nickname the Demon of Screamin’. It was hard for anyone to tear their eyes away from this explosive entity attacking the scarf-festooned microphone stand. That said, Tyler never forgot that he was part of a unit and as team leader he relentlessly geed up the troops. ‘I used to tell the guys all the time: “Next year, at this time, we’re gonna be on that radio!”’ Their work schedule over the entire state of Massachusetts was exhausting though, turning Tyler into a nocturnal being. He quipped: ‘Since this band started, I ain’t seen daylight!’
In summer 1972, most members of Aerosmith were pushing the boundaries in one sense or another. It was then that Joe Perry first tried heroin, and at 1325 Commonwealth Avenue a visit from the narcotics detectives was always just a door knock away. The apartment was still a hub for nefarious types to come and go. The cops did mount a surveillance operation outside and at one point charges were laid, but then dropped. It was a volatile time when Steven and Joe, both strong personalities, constantly clashed. It is not something that either man has ever denied or tried to dilute. They would have rip-roaring bawling matches backstage after gigs. There were times when tensions ran so high that they found it easier not to speak to each other for spells. A good old barney over something quickly came to be par for the course. Although both Steven and Joe have been frank about the incendiary nature of their creative partnership and friendship, the degree of volatility did create an extremely fraught environment that was further complicated when the lead guitarist became involved with a young woman named Elyssa Jerret.
Elyssa Jerret’s family owned a house at Lake Sunapee and initially she knew Steven only by seeing him around the resort. Frequenting the Anchorage, she had encountered Joe Perry when he worked in the kitchen there. She began spending time with the budding guitarist, but on a purely platonic basis. She grew to know Steven better by attending his gigs at The Barn, before leaving America in the late 1960s for London, where she became involved with a guitarist. Steven and Joe separately corresponded with Elyssa while she was living across the pond, mainly sharing news of their burgeoning band. Elyssa was beautiful and lively, and when she returned to America in summer 1972, just after Aerosmith had signed to Columbia Records, she had parted company from the musician in London and was a free agent. When she met up with the band soon after her return, she and Joe became romantically involved.