"Country music is the new rock & roll," proclaims Steven Tyler in a press release for his new, and first, solo album, the inclusively titled We're All Somebody From Somewhere (* * ½ out of four stars).
That may come as a surprise to those of us who thought country music preceded and informed rock. But let's not quibble: Tyler is hardly the first arena rock star to embrace roots music to convey a certain rugged authenticity. A country makeover saved Darius Rucker from becoming the Huey Lewis of his generation, and who could forget Jon "I'm a cowboy" Bon Jovi and his band's Lost Highway?
We're All Somebody, out July 15, doesn't present a radical departure any more than those project did, though there are some stretch marks. Co-produced by Tyler with an impeccably credentialed team of country and rock vets — T-Bone Burnett, Dann Huff, Marti Frederiksen, Jaren Johnston of the Cadillac Three — the album can nonetheless prove surprisingly flavorless, as Aerosmith's famously flamboyant frontman seems to strive for an earthier earnestness that isn't a natural fit.
The opening track, My Own Worst Enemy, begins as a moody acoustic reverie, then segues restlessly to a burst of electric guitar, as if abruptly waking up from a nap. Hold On (Won't Let Go) is all murky melodrama, with distorted vocals and wailing harmonica.
Ambivalence and brooding are not Tyler's strong suits. At the peak of its powers, his springy tenor could summon agony and ecstasy; it was as central to the irresistible bombast of Aerosmith's hits as Joe Perry's blues-based guitar fireworks. As the band matured, the singing and playing also acquired a playful wit that kept the musicians from teetering into self-parody, even as younger hard-rock acts dove off that deep end.
Glimmers of the same mischievous spirit do pop up on Somebody. The title track, a well-meaning, generic call for tolerance, includes references to black-eyed peas and corn bread that are distinctly cheeky, and you can almost see Tyler wink as he raises his voice to a near-howl at the end, begging, "Give me some love!"
Tyler finds his twang, with a little help from excellent lap steel guitar and mandolin players, on the wistful Somebody New, and again on the gently crackling Sweet Louisiana. On Only Heaven, he coasts on sweetness for a few bars, until the song reveals itself as a power ballad, complete with crashing guitars. RED, WHITE & YOU is similarly anthemic, and as banal as a campaign slogan, with its visions of "American girls makin' dreams come true."
To reward the faithful, Tyler offers a noir-ish new take on his Aerosmith smash Janie's Got A Gun, as well as a reading of Piece Of My Heart that's not drastically different from Janis Joplin's. "Didn't I give you nearly everything that a man possibly could?" he sings. Well...
Someday has its moments, but is recommended most to diehard fans.
Download: Somebody New, Sweet Louisiana.
