Aerosmith performs at Wells Fargo Center in Philadelphia on Sept. 2, 2023.

Another pillar of American rock and roll got worn out and collapsed this week, wobbling the foundation and making us wonder how to replace it.

Insert Foot’s Tony Hicks.

But first, let’s recognize more than a half century of Aerosmith standing strong as America’s answer to the Rolling Stones.

Everyone and their cat immediately jumped on social media to say how sad it is that the band canceled what was supposed to be its final tour. The only thing sad is we all won’t get a real chance to say goodbye to a truly great live band. That and the idea of Steven Tyler not being able to sing.

For all his antics, jabbering, preening and posing, that voice … what a magnificent voice. Raw, bluesy, gritty and occasionally gorgeous. One of the great signature voices of rock and roll for more than 50 years.

He’s been rehabbing that voice for nearly a year and finally had to give up. The band said Friday on its website “a full recovery from his vocal injury is not possible” and they will no longer tour.

Well … the guy is 76 and has been screaming for 76 years, I imagine.

I hope he can still talk, at least. One of my favorite interviews was supposed to be a 15-minute conversation with Tyler when Aerosmith was a few days out from a Bay Area show, sometime during the aughts. The band canceled its last show before our talk because Tyler’s voice was unwell. He felt better, but I was still warned by a publicist not to go over 15 minutes, because he needed to rest the golden throat.

Yeah … you try to get Steven Tyler to stop talking after 15 minutes.

We talked about the band’s career. We talked about the road. We talked about the band’s Run-DMC-inspired comeback. We talked about his kids.

Well, he talked, mostly. I just threw in a few prompts here and there and listened to him roll like a wheel down the trail to the Grand Canyon.

I scored points when I said I thought the much-criticized Rock in a Hard Place record from 1982 — the one after Joe Perry left the band — was underrated and why. I also asked how weird it was when Michael Schenker from UFO auditioned to replace Perry.

He liked that I knew that. And it was really weird, apparently.

At one point when we talked about the old music, he broke into the last chorus of “Dream On” over the phone. I can’t even begin to explain how surreal it was to have Steven Tyler sing the chorus of a hallowed rock classic to an audience of one, and that audience is you.

At 45 minutes, the irritated publicist broke in and said enough was enough (always tell publicists what they want to hear, then ignore the instructions when you get your subject rolling). Tyler asked if I was coming to the show Friday in San Jose (I was), then gave me his assistant’s name and phone number and said to call and come backstage and hang, because he wanted to meet me.

I was pretty stoked. I mean, I was a professional and all, but if Steven Tyler wanted to begin a lifelong friendship involving me eventually playing with the band and marrying his daughter, well, who was I to question such wisdom?

Aerosmith canceled the show two days later because Tyler’s voice was out again. They didn’t come back for a few years. The friendship was over.

I know what you’re thinking, which I’ve wondered myself: Did I screw up Tyler’s voice by pushing the interview three times past the deadline? Did I screw up the Friday night plans for 20,000 fans, not to mention those of my Aerosmith-fan-freak of a buddy I was taking to the show?

Probably not. Steven Tyler was in the hall of fame of talking long before he was in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

I did get another chance to speak with Tyler when Aerosmith recorded its last studio record, Music From Another Dimension in 2012 at my buddy’s studio in Hollywood. I got to meet legendary producer Jack Douglas and stand there looking like an awestruck kid during one of their breaks, when Perry sat on the couch right in front of me, with his big white hollow-body guitar, playing the opening to “Paint It Black.”

Suddenly, Tyler burst out of the studio. He made his way over to the spread, talking to someone and grabbing a handful of nuts. I wanted to say hello, but he was clearly busy being Steven Tyler. Just as he was about to leave, he said something in the general direction of the band, then said he was out of there, and threw the few nuts he had in his hand toward Perry, who didn’t blink and kept playing as nuts rained down on him as if that sort of thing happened every day.

Thanks for the memories, Steven. I hope it’s not the least we’ve heard from you.

Follow music critic Tony Hicks at Twitter.com/TonyBaloney1967.