A Little South of Sanity (1998)
Disc One
1.Eat the Rich
2.Love in an Elevator
3.Falling in Love (Is Hard on the Knees)
4.Same Old Song and Dance
5.Hole in My Soul
6.Monkey on My Back
7.Livin' on the Edge
8.Cryin'
9.Rag Doll
10.Angel
11.Janie's Got a Gun
12.Amazing
Disc Two
1.Back in the Saddle
2.Last Child
3.The Other Side
4.Walk on Down
5.Dream On
6.Crazy
7.Mama Kin
8.Walk This Way
9.Dude (Looks Like a Lady)
10.What it Takes
11.Sweet Emotion
By the tail end of the '90s, Aerosmith were both battle-hardened veterans and multimedia icons, their swagger polished but intact. With one final contractual obligation to fulfill to their old label, Geffen, they released A Little South of Sanity, a sprawling double live album that ambitiously aimed to encapsulate their evolution from sleazy rockers to MTV darlings. Unlike the streamlined Big Ones compilation that preceded it, this was a career-spanning collection that dug into both the gloss and the grit.
The first disc, largely dominated by the band’s late-era Geffen material, carries with it the sheen of professionalism that sometimes feels closer to replication than reinterpretation. The performances are clean—perhaps too clean—and while classics like Cryin’ and Livin’ on the Edge are as melodically infectious as ever, the renditions often tread familiar ground. One senses that the fire is more controlled than stoked. The audience roars on cue; the band delivers on time. But spontaneity is fleeting, and the passion occasionally feels processed—like a greatest hits jukebox on auto-repeat. It’s not that the songs aren’t good—they are—but the set’s first half rarely deviates from expectation. At times, one might forget this is a live album at all.
Where things get interesting is on Disc Two, which delves deeper into the band’s pre-rehab, pre-glam canon—an era when Aerosmith were raw, unpredictable, and gloriously imperfect. Here, the old-school cuts like Sweet Emotion and Toys in the Attic bristle with a loose, punch-drunk energy. The studio gloss fades, replaced by something closer to their club days—hot, sweaty, and a little dangerous. Joe Perry’s Walk on Down gains fresh legs in a grittier setting, and even lesser-known cuts like Monkey on My Back are given room to breathe. This half of the album reminds us of a time when Aerosmith played for their lives, not their legacy.
It’s worth noting that A Little South of Sanity is the fourth live record in the band’s catalog—an unusual glut by any standard—and yet it manages to justify itself by sheer breadth alone. If you’re here for deep cuts or reinvention, this may not quite satisfy. But if you want a time capsule of the band’s duality—arena titans by day, bluesy bar brawlers by night—then this is the closest we’ll come to seeing the two worlds collide.