Pandora's Box (1991)
Disc One
1. When I Needed You
2. Make It
3. Movin' Out
4. One Way Street
5. On The Road Again
6. Mama Kin
7. Same Old Song and Dance
8. Train Kept A Rollin'
9. Seasons of Wither
10.Write Me A Letter
11.Dream On
12.Pandora's Box
13.Rattlesnake Shake
14.Walkin' The Dog
15.Lord of the Thighs
Disc Two
1. Toys in the Attic
2. Round and Round
3. Krawhitham
4. You See Me Crying
5. Sweet Emotion
6. No More No More
7. Walk This Way
8. I Wanna Know Why
9. Big Ten Inch Record
10.Rats in the Cellar
11.Last Child
12.All Your Love
13.Soul Saver
14.Nobody's Fault
15.Lick and a Promise
16.Adam's Apple
17.Draw the Line
18.Critical Mass
Disc Three
1. Kings and Queens
2. Milcow Blues
3. I Live in Connecticut
4. Three Mile Smile
5. Let it Slide
6. Cheese Cake
7. Bone to Bone (Coney Island White Fish Boy)
8. No Surprize
9. Come Together
10.Downtown Charlie
11.Sharpshooter
12.Sh!t House Shuffle
13.South Station Blues
14.Riff & Roll
15.Jailbait
16.Major Barbara
17.Chip Away the Stone
18.Helter Skelter
19.Back in the Saddle
One must view Pandora’s Box not as a greatest hits collection, but as a revelatory artifact—three discs tracing the gritty, chaotic, and occasionally transcendent arc of Aerosmith’s Columbia years. Issued in the late ’80s, it emerged partly as a retrospective during the band’s unexpected second wind, but more truthfully, it’s a love letter to the true believers, not a concession to casual fans.
It opens with promise, laying bare the band’s dirty blues roots and street-level swagger, a sound as indebted to the Yardbirds as to the Stones. The live cuts, alternate takes, and rare tracks aren’t filler—they’re the marrow. For the initiated, the choice to include the live version of Lord of the Thighs over the studio original isn’t a blunder—it’s a deliberate act of reverence. The live rendition breathes fire, capturing Aerosmith’s ability to teeter on the edge of collapse while somehow holding the line, snarling and brilliant.
The rarities offer not just obscurities but insight. Tyler’s solo demos, ragged though they may be, showcase his lyrical idiosyncrasies and melodic instinct when stripped of polish. Even missteps—some overindulgent, some undercooked—are instructive, forming the mosaic of a band always more messianic than meticulous.
Disc three ventures into the so-called “bad years”—the drug-fueled implosions, the critical cold shoulders. But even here, the curators find dignity. There’s bruised glory in the darkness, and it’s presented without apology. The band may have been unraveling, but the music never entirely let go of the thread.
The packaging—lavish, detailed, respectful—underscores the curatorial intention. Pandora’s Box isn't just a compilation. It’s an archival resurrection of a band that wrote its own legend in sweat, sin, and swagger.