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{Photo Credits Courtest of JoeyKramer.com and Ross Halfin}
By Anthony Kuzminski
A rock bio’s significance is determined in its capacity to spew forth the truth. Almost immediately, within the first fifteen pages you can tell whether the book will be a PR infested puff piece or something far more revealing. Rock stars are encircled by hordes of people who are petrified that any minute derailing detail will impact how much money ends up in their pockets. As a result truly scandalous tales never make it into print. However, the foreword to Joey Kramer’s recent autobiography, Hit Hard notifies the reader that what they are holding in their hands is more than a conventional chronicle of one’s life. Nikki Sixx, who did the foreword, sprinkles it with a sentence that sums up the book almost better than any review ever could; This is an important book, because it’s not bullshit. It may seem peculiar that the drummer of Aerosmith is writing his own biography when a detailed bio of Aerosmith already exists, Walk This Way from a decade back. However, after reading Hit Hard you begin to realize that Walk This Way, authored by Stephen Davis, focused on excess and success and not the personal individual journeys of the members. Don’t get me wrong, it’s full of remarkable nuggets and gives the overall history of Aerosmith but Kramer’s book is so much more endearing, unforgettable and as Nikki Sixx said, “important”.
I have read a few dozen authorized rock biographies in the last few years and these books straddle between two types; those trying to emulate or top Motley Crue’s The Dirt or books that come from rock stars who I firmly believe don’t remember a single thing from their past but rely on myths and legends which means you are left with half truths. Hit Hard is neither, yet when you conclude reading the book, you will be shattered emotionally. What you will find is a tailored history of Aerosmith’s career, but more extensively, you will read the story of a survivor. Rock stars often try and make excuses for their inexcusable behavior and all too often lay the blame on other people for their predicament in life. Kramer does this to a small extent, but unlike so many other people in his position, he finds a way to take his alarming experiences and relationships and put them into perspective for the reader. A good friend of mine often chats about how every band break-up and downfall is often the musician’s own fault and they alone hold the keys to their own destiny. However, few people I meet in life ever believe in this and often blame outside sources never looking at themselves. Kramer’s book is an introspective and on-going confessional where he comes off as brutally candid and earnest.
Joey Kramer was your archetypal kid growing up in the fifties and sixties who always seemed to be in trouble. Nothing he did could ever please anyone. Most biographies spend an infinite amount of time on one’s childhood and while I often deem these sections tedious and at times unnecessary, Kramer’s is essential and is at the heart of the whole book. Something most people never discuss is that we are who we are as a result of our upbringing. Our parents mold us and whether we like it or not, we carry many of their traits. We inherit our parent’s insecurities, habits and ultimately everything we set out to do in life is a result of our upbringing. Some people are blessed with affectionate households and others aren’t. Kramer was one of these kids who spent his entire adolescence running away from his family and the rest of his adult life trying to make peace with it. Even when he achieved success, he still yearned for a father figure and as a result, often found himself in abusive relationships. Whether it is with women, managers or his band, he always seemed to let people walk over him because he never found a way to stick up for himself as a child. One of the more interesting aspects of the book is how the band almost fell to pieces in the mid-nineties because of manager Tim Collins. Walk This Way touched on this era of the band, but not to my satisfaction and here Kramer lays out many of the intricate details. Kramer was dealing with depression at the time and was at a facility seeking help when the band truly learned about the backstabbing that occurred. The details and analogies that Kramer intersperses his life story with are tremendous. I’m a music junkie so I enjoy reading any and all music books, but six-months down the line I often struggle to remember details of most of them. Kramer’s book will stick with me for a long time because he doesn’t merely narrate anecdotes and stories but the people jump off the page. When speaking about his family, band mates, wives, girlfriends and friends in general, it was as if these people were right next to me reading the story with me. Kramer remembers the art teacher who took a liking to him when no one else would. It’s admirable that Kramer remembers the people who made a difference in his life. A life is made by the people you share it with and for better or worse Kramer shares all of the intricate details of these relationships.
As mentioned previously books carefully tip-toe around thorny encounters so as to not offend certain people. Kramer does no such thing here. He casts his relationship with Steven Tyler in a light that is so intense yet frank; it may be too much for some to handle. Tyler is a rock God and one of the most recognizable American rock stars ever. Yet Kramer doesn’t hide his viewpoint. Tyler’s off hand remarks sometimes cut too close to the bone for Kramer and the reader Can literally feel the knife being thrust into their stomach for some of these instances. The paradox of this is that while Kramer shares these stories, it makes Tyler feel more human to me. Hearing one cleanse their mind, body and soul of their demons was inspirational. A mistake that rock bands have made since the release of The Dirt is they misunderstand debauchery with accuracy. What made The Dirt so definitive wasn’t the sex, drugs or rock n’ roll but the straightforwardness of all four members. The chaos played a part make no mistake but here was a band that revealed everything and left nothing unsaid. Hit Hard lives up to its title with an in-your-face truthfulness missing from most memoirs.
As a new parent, the book had an overpowering effect on me, because it illustrates how precious and crucial one’s childhood truly is. By 1978, Joey Kramer was performing to tens of thousands nightly, had multiple platinum albums, could have any girl of his choosing and a boundless supplies of booze and drugs and yet none of it was able to overshadow the nightmares of his childhood. Fifteen years onward when the band was in the midst of colossal success with Get A Grip, Kramer was healthy and sober, yet he was still living in the past. Aerosmith had a series of albums over a seven year period that sold upwards of twenty-million in the US alone and yet reclaiming his sobriety and his career wasn’t enough to bury the images of being beaten by his father. I’m not trying to go all Oprah here, but it reinforces the monumental task of raising a child and surrounding them with as much love and reinforcement as you can. I’m leaving out many wonderful and heartbreaking stories on purpose because this is a book that one should discover and read on their own. Joey Kramer has got balls, plain and simple. He expunged his demons to us in the hopes that we learn from his own battles. Some people think it’s sexy and cool to brag about success and conquests, but for Kramer, peace of mind is something that no amount of platinum records, seven-figure checks and sold-out stadiums can ever replace. Internal peace is something we seek throughout all of life and there is no recipe for it. What I took away from the book is that one should not seek it out, but find it within.
Anthony Kuzminski is a Chicago based writer and Special Features Editor for the antiMusic Network and his daily writings can be read at The Screen Door and can be contacted at thescreendoor AT gmail DOT com.
