I’ve been on an Aerosmith kick lately. It started when I decided to re-read all my music bios in alphabetical order. Naturally, the Boston rockers were at the top of the list. I’ve already finished the excellent band “autobiography” Walk This Way by Stephen Davis and Joey Kramer’s personally revealing but kinda whiny Hit Hard, and I’m midway through Steven Tyler’s meandering mumbo-jumbo memoir Does the Noise in My Head Bother You? Naturally, reading about all the old songs and albums made me want to go back and listen to them all again. Some — like Rocks and Toys in the Attic — I listen to all the time anyway. Others — like Permanent Vacation — not so much. I’d like to tell you time has made me more fond of the latter, but I’d be lying. I wasn’t a fan of it back then, and I’m not much of one now. Don’t get me wrong; I’m glad they cleaned up and got their career back on track and everything. And sure, PV has Dude (Looks Like A Lady) and Rag Doll — though I much prefer the bluesy deep cuts St. John and Hangman Jury. As for the rest of it — from Bruce Fairbairn’s sleek, soulless production to the slate of hired-gun songwriters like Desmond Child, Jim Vallance and Holly Knight — well, you can keep it. Personally, I prefer my Aerosmith raw and messy and dark and dangerous, not slick and polished and gussied-up and blow-dried for the MTV generation. To an old-schooler like me, Permanent Vacation decisively marks the point when Aerosmith sold out, knuckled under, and made it clear they cared more about being a brand than a band. Of course, all that didn’t deter me from snagging this hilarious promo poster for the album. If those clothes and hairstyles don’t scream 1980s, nothing does. For that alone, it’s worth having. And if you’d like to have it, email me and I’ll sell it to ya.