Train Kept a Rollin'

Zoo Freaks, the Zoo Crew has got the needle locked on a real freight-train of a track, Aerosmith blasting through "Train Kept A-Rollin'" from their second album Get Your Wings. This one has been a show-stopper since the Bad Boys from Boston first started packing clubs, and it still hits with that same bulldozing staccato groove every time it rolls out of the speakers.

The song itself goes way back before Aerosmith put their stamp on it. Tiny Bradshaw cut the original as a jump-blues number in 1951, then Johnny Burnette and the Rock and Roll Trio hot-rodded it into proto-rock and roll a few years later. The Yardbirds turned it into a fuzzed-out psychedelic blues burner with Jeff Beck on guitar, and that version is the one that really lit the fuse for the guys who would become Aerosmith. Steven Tyler, Joe Perry and Tom Hamilton had all been playing it in their earlier bands, and Perry later said it was the one song they all had in common when they first got together. He always figured if he could play just one song forever, it would be that one, because of what it does to him.

Tyler got an early look at how heavy it could get when his band Chain Reaction opened for the Yardbirds in Westport, Connecticut back in 1966. Jeff Beck had already left, so Jimmy Page was handling the lead by himself. Tyler stood right at the edge of the stage and watched them tear through "Train Kept A-Rollin'." He said it knocked his tits off. They were just an un-fuckin'-believable band that night. From that point on the song became a regular closer in Aerosmith's early sets, including their very first gig at Nipmuc Regional High School in 1970. They have played it well over a thousand times since then, and for a long stretch it was the number they used to send the crowd home with their ears ringing.

When it came time to cut the track for Get Your Wings, the band wanted a live version so they could capture the energy they were getting on stage. Producer Jack Douglas had other ideas. He figured he could fake the live feel better in the studio and get cleaner sound in the process. They recorded the basic track, then he ran the tape through speakers in a stairwell at the Record Plant and miked that up to add some natural room. He also mixed in crowd noise from George Harrison's Concert for Bangladesh so the second half of the song sounds like it is happening in front of a real audience. The whole thing stretches out to nearly six minutes, almost twice as long as the Yardbirds version, with that start-stop rhythm that lets the guitars breathe before they explode again.

There is a little studio secret attached to those guitar solos that a lot of Zoo Freaks still love to argue about. Joe Perry and Brad Whitford were not the ones who laid down the big leads. Douglas brought in session players Steve Hunter and Dick Wagner, who had already been working with Bob Ezrin on Alice Cooper records. Hunter was hanging around the lobby between takes on another session when Douglas poked his head out and asked if he felt like playing. Hunter grabbed his 1959 Les Paul Special, got two run-throughs, and nailed the opening solos. Wagner handled the wilder section at the end that is supposed to sound like a live Yardbirds jam. Neither one got credit on the album, which was pretty common for ghosting back then. Perry later admitted they were not thrilled about bringing in outside players, but the label was ready to drop them after the first album flopped, so they made a deal with the devil to keep the second record alive. It worked. Get Your Wings started getting serious airplay, especially on "Same Old Song and Dance" and this one, and the band was finally on their way.

Even the album title has a story. Tyler came up with "Get Your Wings," and in his autobiography he explained that it is old Hells Angels slang. The idea is that if you give a girl head while she has her period, you have earned your wings. The critics hated them for the literary wink at Lord of the Flies too, like the band was not supposed to be smart enough to pull that off. Joe Perry just shrugged it off with one of his classic lines: there is no substitute for arrogance.

All of that swagger started with a chance meeting up in Sunapee, New Hampshire. Steven Tyler, who was still mostly a drummer in those days, crossed paths with Joe Perry while Perry was working at a hamburger joint or ice cream parlor on the harbor, depending on which version you hear. Perry and Tom Hamilton already had a blues-based group called the Jam Band. Tyler loved what he heard, insisted he would only join if he could sing instead of play drums, and the three of them started putting something together. Joey Kramer came in on drums, Ray Tabano handled second guitar for a minute before Brad Whitford took over, and they moved into a roach-filled apartment at 1325 Commonwealth Avenue in Boston. The place was so packed with gear that you had to walk sideways to get to the bathroom, and every room turned into a party room. They would get high, watch Three Stooges reruns, and try to figure out a name. Kramer had been doodling the word "aerosmith" all over his school notebooks after he got into Harry Nilsson's Aerial Ballet album, and the name stuck because nobody hated it.

They gigged constantly around New England, paid their own way to open a night at Max's Kansas City so Clive Davis would see them, and walked out with a Columbia deal. The first album did not set the world on fire, but the road time made them tighter, and by the time they got into the studio for Get Your Wings with Jack Douglas they were ready to sound like the band that would own the rest of the decade. "Train Kept A-Rollin'" is the perfect snapshot of that moment, half rootsy cover and half pure Aerosmith attitude, the song that proved they could take something old and make it their own.

You can dig deeper into the whole catalog and the Blue Army over at the official site aerosmith.com, and the band stays active with posts and updates on Facebook, Instagram, and X. Keep spinning with the rest of the Zoo Freaks right here on THE ZOO.