Last Kiss

I’ve thought about this cover a lot. Most people who don’t know anything about Pearl Jam know this song, and like it. Yet, the most faithful fans seem to hate it in large numbers. Is that because the song isn’t representative of most of their other work? Is it because it’s been played too much? Is it because they don’t think that it’s a very good song? Maybe a mixture of all of these things. The fact is that I really like the song. I’ve heard both the version by J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers and the version by Wednesday. I like both very much, the Cavaliers’ was very much a swinging, dancehall tune. Wednesday’s version has a very 70’s pop feeling with it’s echoing vocal and heavier drum sound. Both have the same catchy bass pattern that echoes the vocal melody. The song is about a tragic death, but that’s not the feeling conveyed in either version.

LAST KISS is catchy as hell and has been a hit in both English and Spanish. What propelled it from minor hit-land for a host of artists to being Pearl Jam’s biggest radio hit? Well, that would be Eddie’s voice. As he so often does, he builds suspense as he tells the story. This is what is lacking in most other versions. The first verses are expository, outlining the tragedy, the crash itself. Then with the second chorus, he modifies the vocal melody, bringing it up to a higher register and sings it with the intensity that we so associate with him. These lines in the last verse are particularly moving

I lifted her head she looked at me and said
Hold me darling just a little while,

coupled with the understated delivery of:

Well now she’s gone even though i hold her tight
I lost my love, my life, that night.

So there’s nothing really earthshattering about this song. And a lot of people seem to have disdain for it, but at every show, the crowd goes nuts when it gets played. Part of the fun of a Pearl Jam show is being a part of the that energy. I just don’t understand the hate that this song gets.

Throw Your Arms Around Me

This song isn’t really played by Pearl Jam.  It’s a song that Eddie does as a pre-set prior to the opening band’s set in order to reward audience members for showing up early.  I think that it is one of Eddie’s most popular pre-sets.  It’s a catchy tune with a very pretty, lilting melody that makes for a great sing-a-long.  It is relatively obscure in the US, but it’s one of Australia’s most popular tunes.  It was written by Mark Seymour for his band, Hunters and Collectors.  They recorded a couple of different versions, but my favorite is the original.  The song has such staying power that people as disparate as Neil Finn and comedy trio The Doug Anthony All Stars have recorded popular versions.

The story behind the song is a very interesting one.  On the surface, TYAAM seems to be a love song.  But Mark Seymour wrote it while recalling a very memorable one-night stand with a prostitute.  Not exactly the stuff that romance is made of.  The recorded versions of the song tend to feature pure tenor voices, very poppy production values and lovely, elaborate harmonizing vocals.  Eddie of course has none of those things.  He comes out with only his guitar.  His voice is deep, smokey and has none of the lightness of other singers of the song.  Yet TYAAM always becomes a joyful sing-a-long.  I think that my favorite parts of this song are the wordless vocalizations that he does at the end.  He lets his voice soar freely, sometimes not quite hitting the high note, but it’s a moment that feels intimate even when surrounded by 15,000 people.  And that’s always welcome.   

Crazy Mary

Frank Sinatra heard the song “My Way” and immediately told himself that ‘this is my song’. He later recorded his own studio version and it has become one of his defining songs. In similar fashion, the cover song “Crazy Mary” has evolved into one of Pearl Jam’s own. From it’s humble beginnings on a benefit album, it has become a fan favorite in the live setting. “Crazy Mary” was first written by Victoria Williams, a little known singer-songwriter with a knack for country/folk music with small town storylines. Sadly, Victoria was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 1993. Many caring artists decided to put together a benefit album for Victoria, with all proceeds set to pay for her increasing medical bills. As Pearl Jam has demonstrated in the past and present, they are extremely passionate about many causes, charities, and non-profit organizations. Pearl Jam had recently met a guy by the name of Young Neil, and their friendship led to the acquainting of Victoria and Pearl Jam, since Neil was a fan of the country singer. So when Eddie and Co. heard about a benefit album in the works, they jumped on board.

Now all they had to do was choose and record a song to contribute to the project. As it was decided that each song on the benefit would be a cover of a Victoria William’s original, “Crazy Mary” was chosen. Victoria’s version of “Crazy Mary” was never put to record as it only existed in demo form. With that said, it is difficult to know how much of a collaborative effort the recording of this song may have been. (She later recorded and released her own version) We do know that Victoria did in fact go to Pearl Jam’s recording space to lend her hand, both in vocals and guitar. They surrounded themselves with candles and sat in a circle, creating the perfect atmosphere. Eddie has been quoted saying it was one of the most magical moments of his recording career. ‘Sweet Relief: A Benefit for Victoria Williams’ was released in 1993.

At first, this amazing studio version was hard to come by and was only scarcely played on radio. From what I can remember, “Crazy Mary” initially went under the radar, which is rare for a song recorded by the world’s biggest band in their popularity heyday. Without today’s internet advancements in place, it took me awhile before I finally found this song on a bootleg. Nowadays you can find the benefit album on Ebay fairly easy.

The studio version of “Crazy Mary” is very pleasing to the ears. Victoria’s backing vocals are beautiful. The music itself is simplistic, with just enough subtleties to bring the vocals and story to the forefront. ‘Crazy Mary rising up above it all’ is a lyric that still brings a tear to my eye as I clearly picture this tortured woman of society rising above all the bullshit. It is a country tune sung by Eddie Vedder in 1993 when he was still the spokesman for grunge. To step outside oneself in such a fashion was a real eye opener to the potential of Pearl Jam’s music.

The song debuted live September 6, 1993 and featured Victoria Williams as a guest musician, then took an extended leave of absence until 1998. That first performance was subdued compared to today’s energetic take. During this song’s hiatus, it was widely believed that PJ was not interested in playing “Crazy Mary” live without Victoria Williams in tow. Eddie himself may have alluded to that very idea with some choice words at the mike.

Since 1998, “Crazy Mary” has become a highlight at every show it graces. It has since been played live over a hundred times, none of those versions featuring Victoria Williams. This song can work both as an acoustic number or played electric with 30,000 screaming fans. Since the addition of Kenneth “Boom” Gaspar into the fold, “Crazy Mary” has taken on a whole new feel and energy. The extended outro is amazing, with Boom’s hammond B3 organ playing the call-and-response game with Mike McCready’s solo guitar work. Other times, Boom will solo first and Mike will follow him. “Crazy Mary” is Boom’s shining moment as he can really let loose, hitting those high notes most other songs don’t call for. Vedder has perfected his vocal delivery on this particular song, sometimes delving into a Tom Waits-esq growl on parts. This song has also evolved into a moment where Vedder interacts with the crowd, passing his wine bottle to audience members so they can take a swig. “Take a bottle drink it down, pass it around.”

With all due respect to the amazing songwriter Victoria Williams, “Crazy Mary” has become Pearl Jam’s song in my eyes. They chewed it up and spit it out, old blue eyes would be proud.

Long Nights

I find this song haunting.  The high, shimmering broken guitar chords contrast with the deep, ringing bass notes to create a mood and a sonic space.  The mood is pensive, wistful, full of longing.  Ed’s voice fills the space and the mood.  It is so gentle, so tender, like an adult lullaby.  The kind that an adult child might sing to a worried parent.  There are keyboard flourishes that also accent the mood.  Repeated notes that create tension and short runs that bring a sense of relief.  The chorus in particular still catches me off-guard despite the fact that I have now heard the song many times.  Ed brings back the falling motif that he so often uses, and this time it feels like falling into untroubled sleep for the first time in a long, long time.

As much as I love the music itself, the lyrics are equally haunting.  The song is about rebirth.  About leaving behind everything that one has known:

Who I was before

I cannot recall

The singer emerges from a long, lonely time into a new life:

I’ll take this soul

That’s inside me now

Like a brand new friend

I’ll forever know

It’s nighttime music, quiet and thoughtful, yet it’s also optimistic.

I’ve got this light

And the will to show

I will always be

Better than before

I’m not sure that I’ve ever been more moved by a Pearl Jam song.  I hope to hear this live someday.

(Sittin’ on) the Dock of the Bay

It seems that DOCK OF THE BAY is one of Pearl Jam’s most popular covers. It was written by Otis Redding and Steve Cropper in 1967. It was recorded in December of 1967, just a few days before Otis Redding was killed in a plane crash. It was released after his death and became his biggest hit. And it’s no wonder. The song has a cool, breezy quality that was a change from his previous work. This has always been my favorite Otis Redding song. I love his voice, and I love the more laid-back style of this song as compared to other ballads like I’VE BEEN LOVIN’ YOU TOO LONG.

I’ve heard many versions of this song. Generally, I love the song so much that I tend to enjoy most of them. I’ve heard some bizarre reinventions, and I’ve heard a lot of acoustic renditions. But I didn’t really stop to think about how good Pearl Jam’s version was until I was in a store somewhere, and I heard Michael Bolton’s version. It made me start thinking about why Pearl Jam does such good covers of songs. They tend to sound distinctively Pearl Jam, but also faithful to the original…and tasteful.

It’s weird that Pearl Jam’s version, a live cover played only once, is still one of the best. Perhaps it was because they had Steve Cropper playing with them. Perhaps it was chance. From the distinctive opening to Steve Cropper breaking in to help out Ed’s faltering whistling, it’s one of the highlights of that show in Murfreesboro in 1994. It’s been called out as a request many times since, but they’ve never done it again. Why?

Baba O’Riley

I’ve never been a big fan of The Who.  I never liked Roger Daltrey’s voice, and Pete Townshend’s songwriting didn’t really resonate with me.  But I’ve always liked BABA O’RILEY.  The synthesizer loop in the beginning caught my ear immediately and the repetition until the onslaught of the power chords was gripping.  But I’ve always liked Pearl Jam’s version better.  I liked Eddie’s voice, and I loved the guitar intro.   I’ve been thinking about his song lately, and if I had to pick one single song that influenced Eddie Vedder’s songwriting more than any other, it would probably be this one.

The history of BABA O’RILEY is actually very interesting.  According to Wikipedia, an unimpeachable source, the name of the song derives from two people Pete Townshend found very inspirational at the time the song was written.  One was philosopher Meher Baba, and the other was minimalist composer Terry Riley, whose 1964 composition IN C was partially the inspiration for the repeating synthesizer patterns in BABA O’RILEY.  The patterns themselves were reconstructed from an ARP Synthesizer demo.  Two other distinguishing characteristics of this song are the dramatic bridge and the switch to almost a jig near the end.

The only PJ versions of this song are live.  They are at the end or near the end of a show, and they usually end as wild free-for-alls.  The synthesizer intro is replaced by Mike McCready himself.  I love the guitar sound here.  It’s more substantial than the reedy synthesizer, and the chords sound even more powerful when they come crashing in.  This is where Eddie catches tambourines and starts smashing them and throwing them into the audience.  Generally, the audience sings the “teenage wasteland” lyric, and the jig is played with wild abandon.  It’s a fun moment at concerts and fun on the boots as well.  

Porch

  I really love PORCH. We often see lists of people’s favorite Pearl Jam songs. If I made such a list, PORCH would stand outside that list. There are my current favorites, then there is PORCH. And maybe more than any other Pearl Jam song, PORCH has evolved into a new entity while remaining the same song. I’ve listened to a number of versions of PORCH over the years and, in general, it has been a satisfying listen, but my personal opinion is that PORCH has grown up over the years. Maybe that’s why I never get tired of it.

The early incarnation of PORCH, as we hear it on Ten, has very much a classic rock flavor, except for the key changes. There’s the churning power chord backbone, the screaming guitar solo, the echo-drenched vocals, yet at the same time it doesn’t really sound like most classic rock. It might be the wordless chorus, the vocally based bridge going into the jam, the dependence on the power of the vocals to give the song its shape and form. In early live incarnations, the instrumentals were quite shapeless. The vocals were the focus. As time went on, the instrumentals sharpened and tightened, and the jam became more structured. Eddie stopped jumped into the pit and began doing his many famous vocal ad-libs. At some point, the riffing pattern in the intro that we hear in current versions was introduced. I believe that this may have existed in the song as originally written because remnants of it can be heard in the MTV unplugged version of the song, when the band was left without the cover of feedback.

The PORCH of today is a sharper, punchier song than the original. A better song than the original. The rhythm patterns are played more distinctly. There is less feedback covering the rather languid playing of the early days, and the jam is more sophisticated and more highly structured. There is also less focus on the vocals (and Eddie jumping into the pit). However, there are times when I miss the intensity and power of those early vocals even if I don’t miss the shapelessness of the instrumental playing.

Editor’s Note: Around the Bend

Well, here we are. My task, for now, is finished—unless super Pearl Jam sleuths can uncover an original I’ve erroneously overlooked, or make the case for on-the-fence concerns such as the Bayleaf/Pearl Jam mystery “Sunburn”.

So what happens now?  If people are interested in taking on Pearl Jam’s rich history of covers, side projects, solo material, concerts, or other ideas, e-mail your thoughts to me at the following address:  morethanten@gmail.com

What I’d like to do is just edit for spelling/grammar, and make sure that all categories are navigable and intuitive.  For instance, all live shows would fall under one category, covers under another, and all solo/side material, etc., etc.  If people would like to reinvestigate original material already posted about, we can find new ways to categorize that writing as well.

Let me know if you’re interested, and what you propose to do (maybe a sample entry or two?), and we’ll go from there!!!

Thanks again everyone for a great six months!

–Corduroy13

Yellow Ledbetter

Here we are. It’s the end of the show. Lights up.

There are many tangential bits of information about “Yellow Ledbetter”, both statistical and personal, so I’ll begin with a list:

1. In the early days of “Yellow Ledbetter”, though it was occasionally performed as a set/show closer, it wasn’t uncommon for the song to pop up in the middle of sets as well. 1995/1996 saw the emergence of YL as a standard grand finale. Prior to that, Pearl Jam shows were as likely to close with “Leash”, “Porch” or “I’ve Got a Feeling”. Granted, the early shows were rarely the 25+ song marathons of the last ten years, but it goes to show that the iconic status of “Yellow Ledbetter” was not always exactly what it is today.

2. When I was in junior high, I had my first chance to sing for a rock band at a summer program I was enrolled in. The program was for students around the country and the globe, and I somehow met up with a few kids from Venezuela who knew how to play guitar, bass, and drums. The repertoire they knew well were a handful of Green Day songs, and “Yellow Ledbetter”. So I suffered through the Green Day material, affecting my best snotty faux-British pop-punk snarl and dying my hair orange, all so I could try and approximate the notoriously untranscribable “Yellow Ledbetter”.

3. To this day, I know several people who claim “Yellow Ledbetter” as one of their all-time favorite songs, though they do not consider themselves overall fans of the band. I also know someone with a “Yellow Ledbetter” ringtone on their phone. I bet many of you do too.

“Yellow Ledbetter” is without a doubt, one of the most popular and well-known b-sides in all of rock music history. Seriously, try and think of another. Heavy early radio-play and its status as an import-only b-side cemented the song’s legacy from the start. If “Even Flow” was semi-unintelligible, “Yellow Ledbetter” was full-on, which created an enormous amount of buzz, i.e. “What’s he talking about”, but also an undistracted appreciation for the charms of Ed Vedder’s voice, and a friendly, accessible midtempo guitar tune. Whether the lyrics were about a soldier coming back from the war “in a box or a bag”, or someone feeling so beat up by life that they didn’t know whether they were “the boxer or the bag”, there was and is something communal and celebratory about “Yellow Ledbetter” that makes it an idea closer, the song that caps the night with an easygoing finality, but finality nonetheless.

An audience may occasionally groan when they hear McCready’s first few unmistakable bars, but only because they know with reasonable assuredness that the show is about to go into the books. For 5–7 minutes, everyone gets a chance to reflect on the night, the songs, the band, the crowd, whatever they want, and mumble along. Some people view Pearl Jam’s enduring success and its attendant cult fandom as a mystery, but mystery isn’t necessarily bad. In fact, it’s healthy: a band that provides its listeners with uncountable entry points into the songs, albums, artwork, shows, and keeps them, if not always entertained, always engaged. “Yellow Ledbetter” then is the perfect embodiment of Pearl Jam’s mystery: fluid, familiar, enigmatic, comforting, confident, puzzling. It marks the end of the show, but also the return back to your everyday life, in a way that makes that prospect somehow less dreadful and daunting. It says good night, and now with the final song reviewed (until the next album), so do I!

Foldback/Thunderclap/Harmony

I’ve wrestled with including these three instrumentals from the Touring Band 2000 film on this blog, mostly out of sheer laziness with not wanting to have to find them in the movie and figure out which was which. But through the wonders of the internet, it is possible to find strictly audio, labelled versions of these pieces, and because of popular demand, I’m giving them some solid listening. That the songs were titled, even though they sound very much like the demoed candidates for Binaural that they were, also makes them indispensible for this blog’s ambitions. Because of films like TB2K and Single Video Theory, plus a wealth of pre-album release interviews, we know that material such as these three instrumentals is constantly brought into sessions. Some of it gets put on hold indefinitely; some turn into fully realized songs on later albums. “Foldback”, “Thunderclap”, and “Harmony” each received the strange fate of ending up as montage music on a DVD. Through some clever triangulation and research between my own crumbling memory, Given To Wail, and an old Rumor Pit, I’m fairly confident in matching titles to the instrumentals.

According to GTW, the longest of the three tunes is “Thunderclap”, a broad and expansive tune that sounds more in keeping with the band’s work on Yield than Binaural (unless you count “Of the Girl”, which was supposed to have been attempted for Yield anyhow). When I first heard My Morning Jacket’s “Gideon”, I immediate thought of “Thunderclap”. Listening to them side by side, the two songs are astonishing in their similarities: a breezy guitar figure backed by tom-heavy drums, eventually underscored by a few well placed strums. “Thunderclap” is accomplished and lovely, and the imagination reels at what it would have sounded like completed, with lyrics. What I believe to be “Harmony” is the heaviest number, a crunching rock song that betrays a possible Matt Cameron writing credit, as the second half sounds remarkably like Soundgarden. It also would have proven a challenge to accompany with words, though its moody atmosphere makes it a worthy backing for imagery. “Foldback” is the slightest of the three and sounds like wistful Vedder tunes like “Wishlist” and “Untitled”. The playing here is relaxed to the point of not being completely in time. What all three prove beyond doubt is that the band has grown in its songwriting abilities enough to create music that is evocative without words. When a band’s relative castaways demonstrate more character than most radio acts’ hits, it just goes to show how much more there is to music than capturing the zeitgeist. These instrumentals were never “finished”, per se, but still found their own avenue to listeners’ imaginations.

Vitalogy

1. Last Exit
2. Spin the Black Circle
3. Not For You
4. Tremor Christ
5. Nothingman
6. Whipping
7. Pry, To
8. Corduroy
9. Bugs
10. Satan’s Bed
11. Better Man
12. Aye Davanita
13. Immortality
14. Hey Foxymophandlemama, That’s Me

Corduroy

I’m wearing corduroy pants right now (chocolate brown, thin wales, straight legged); I named my beloved cat Corduroy when I was 15 (orange and white, fat, loves to drink water from the tub faucet); I just discovered a great website for the Corduroy Appreciation Club (stylish, funny, reminiscent of McSweeney’s) because I was looking up word origins and the history of the fabric on Wikipedia. I learned from Wikipedia that a common but unverified belief is that the word comes from the French for “cloth(es) of the king”. Well, that’s supposedly not true, but it dovetails quite nicely into the story of “Corduroy”, the Pearl Jam song (classic, magnificent, liable to be played at least twice per show).

Okay, done with parentheses; here’s a story: at every Pearl Jam show I’ve been to, there’s always been, in addition to similarly obsessed fans who know every word to every song, a strong contingent of rock radio-lovin’ dudes that show up in stone-washed jeans and faded black concert tees, get loaded, cry openly during “Black”, and push through the crowd en route to a pee break during every post-Vs. song. Annoying yes, but those dudes are always going to be there. And I’ve come to realize that’s okay. Love your favorite songs and hate the ones you hate. There will also always be those who claim nothing after 1993 was worth their time. Fine. Wherever Pearl Jam decided to go after the last seconds of “Indifference” ticked away, lots of folks decided to hang back and let them be. Great. I would never claim to have ever been close to veering off from the band at any point during their career, but I can say with surety that though Ten and Vs. hooked me in, “Corduroy” itself was largely responsible for keeping me there, for winning my trust in the band’s future, and verifying everything I felt about what I already knew and loved.

As infamous as Eddie’s “complaint about fame” songs are, fans and non-fans alike often miss the bigger issue at stake. “Corduroy” is about seeing one’s personal clothing style co-opted and exploited for big bucks just because of lightning-struck celebrity, but behind that, behind “They can buy but can’t put on my clothes”, “Corduroy” is about wanting to live a true and honest life, and how that existence is threatened. It’s about, in essence, freedom. Not the nebulous, flag-waving idea of freedom, often invoked but never considered, but the idea that commercial culture and consumerism, regardless of good or bad intention, separate us from ourselves. You can’t buy a jacket that looks like Vedder’s and become him, or automatically become part of a “grunge” or “alternative” culture, the same way putting a flower in your hair or patches on your jeans doesn’t make you a hippie.

“Corduroy”, though it is specifically about Ed based on his feeling and experiences, has implications and meaning for everyone. Every social and artistic movement eventually gets folded into the larger culture that seeks to define it based on how that culture wishes to perceive it. “Grunge” was oversimplified down to being depressed music made by unhappy people. All the easier to dismiss when those sourpusses start having challenging political ideas. Ed’s corduroy jacket getting turned into a fashion statement is symbolic of that transformation, and his song is his refusal to accept that, his attempt to reclaim his own life from marketers and hitchhikers. In high school, I probably didn’t think about it in these terms, but I wanted control over who I was and how I was perceived too. I resented being judged by people who didn’t know me, or overhearing someone who always picked on me for my tastes suddenly raving about them once they became “cool”. “Corduroy” hit me hard. I too felt destined to take the varmint’s path.

It didn’t hurt that “Corduroy” was the most musically satisfying Pearl Jam song I’d heard since I was initially drawn to “Even Flow”. Built on Ed’s familiar arpeggiated riff, the song goes through several distinct yet cohesive parts, some minor, some major, which together create a song that is sad yet noble, defiant yet heartbroken. There is no context on stage or coming out of a set of speakers that “Corduroy” doesn’t sound perfect; it works as the centerpiece to Vitalogy, and it stands alone as a great song apart from the album setting. Turned inside-out and upside-down at the Bridge Benefit? Again, it loses none of its import or resonance. With a lot of Vedder’s material past and present, it’s fairly easy to hear his influences, even when they’re well-incorporated, from the Who to Neil to Dylan to the Clash. But “Corduroy” feels most archetypically and organically his own, maybe a synthesis of everything he’d digested and learned to that point, but with his own spark and stamp. I find that although I latch onto other songs for periods of time, and have several which I’d call perennial favorites, they all remain planets around “Corduroy” the sun.

Undone

From “Green Disease” to “U” and now “Undone”, in this final stretch of More Than Ten, the remaining songs have many similarities, namely (at the risk of being completely redundant) they all consist of Ed Vedder indulging his lighter, leaner musical sensibilities. “Undone” is also a catalogue of other favorite Ed themes. Let’s recap them again!

1. Escape from mass, mainstream society to a smaller, simpler locale? Check.

Last stop on the west coast line
South of the northern border
One small corner on my mind

2. Commentary on the pitfalls of fame? Check.

Everybody, they know me there
Don’t get any second glances
Chances are that they don’t care

3. Ocean imagery? Oh you betcha.

Change don’t come at once
It’s a wave… building before it breaks

4. Left-wing politics? Yep.

Can’t wait for election day
Witness the occupation
Corporations rule the day

Ah yes, the four tenets of Vedderism. But there’s a notable, directly stated difference in “Undone”: “All this hope and nowhere to go / This is how I used to feel, but no more.” Though the song was released as a b-side, it is the act in Riot Act. It’s interesting to see that this renewed sense of both hope and purposefulness coincided with one of the grimmest times in modern U.S. politics and affairs, but that determined vigor and optimism has continued throughout a dire 2-term Bush presidency in much of Ed’s, and Pearl Jam’s work, as if the silver lining to an increasingly Orwellian world is an eventual wake-up call, and pendulum swing back towards sanity and rationalism. “Undone” is breezy yet focused, definitely west coast, with e-bowed and wah-wah guitars, sighing background vocals, and an explosive outtro that ranks among the band’s best.

U

There’s nothing wrong with a song that takes as much time to write as it does to play. “U” (none of this new-fangled “You” business, I prefer Prince-style), is an exhuberant slice of bubblegum that asks nothing more of listeners than to smile, purposefully. Had the song reached for some other brass ring of meaningfulness or deep cultural import, I would understand the handwringing “U” sometimes provokes. But it is what it is, even faking out listeners with a moody intro that quickly dissolves into syrup. That being said, I much, much prefer the original “Wishlist” b-side version to that of Lost Dogs, which is one of my least favorite of the band’s released alternate takes, just ever so slightly less brisk, with a re-recorded vocal and Cameron’s drums replacing Irons’s.

Writing a good pop song is neither easy nor a useless, unworthy talent, though it’s generally scoffed at by “serious” rock fans. Vedder may have written “U” during a 12-minute car ride, but he was likely able to do so because a) he’d been honing his melodic sense for years as a songwriter and obsessive fan, and b) he had the instinct and good sense to commit the idea to memory and tape, and not abandon the tune. Half of the battle in creating high, low, or other art is just following through. I believe that everyone possesses the capability of creating something great, but half of the battle is following through. Students in writing classes are often told to keep a journal or pad of paper by their bed at night, so that they don’t ignore the thoughts and ideas that come to them before drifting off to sleep. People are too quick to dismiss their own ideas, not only because they’re unsure about how to take them further, but because their ideas might seem to simple or poppy or catchy or even silly. But as “U” proves, there’s room enough in the music world for silliness, straightforwardness, and hooks that get endlessly looped in your brain.

Riot Act

1. Can’t Keep
2. Save You
3. Love Boat Captain
4. Cropduster
5. Ghost
6. I Am Mine
7. Thumbing My Way
8. You Are
9. Get Right
10. Green Disease
11. Help Help
12. Bu$hleaguer
13. 1/2 Full
14. Arc
15. All Or None

Green Disease

I didn’t save “Green Disease” as the last of the Riot Act tracks on purpose, but I have to admit I’m more fond of it than most from that record. It’s like a champion welterweight, even a flyweight (balsaweight? croutonweight?), punchy and upbeat but swift, with a trademark Vedder guitar riff but a few surprises as well. The biggest draw for me is subtle: the insertion of little series of three notes in the second half of the first verse. “Green Disease” is pretty much in standard 4/4 time, so the slight rhythmic play of three picked notes within that framework adds both quirk and propulsion, as well as more melodic and tonal dimension. For such a brief song that is relatively uncluttered by heavy instrumentation, there’s a lot of variety from start to finish. After the intro, the verses kick in and sound almost in a different key. The verses in turn never culminate in traditional choruses. The sections that begin “Well, I guess” are more like a second series of different verses. It’s an odd structure for a poppy little song, and one that I believe is unique to Pearl Jam’s catalog.

As far as the lyrical concept of the song is concerned, I’m less convinced. Purposeful, ideologically driven greed is indisputably a huge concern in contemporary business and politics (when isn’t it?), and Vedder keeps his rhetoric appropriate concise for his quick tune, but the language is still mostly flat and uninteresting. The best imagery in the song is of “weeds with big leaves / stealing light from what’s beneath” which neatly defines the idea of “green disease”, providing a visual foothold for listeners’ imaginations and an apt comparison to corporate leeches that become inordinately rich off of the work of others while still maintaining the delusion that they’re somehow pulling themselves up by their own bootstraps. Had the song continued along those lines, or kept some consistency even across its musical and structural leaps, “Green Disease” might have been even better. Oh, and could someone please explain the fat man’s dream about “choking Ti leaves”?

Black, Red, Yellow

I promise not to hold my breath, but I’d still love to someday be treated to a “Black, Red, Yellow” –> “Black” –> “Red Mosquito” –> “Yellow Ledbetter” tetralogy. The return of the “Hail, Hail” b-side to the live stage after 9+ years (from 1996 - 2005) was a treat, with the scrappy, junkyard rock homage to basketball star (and friend/fan of the band) Dennis Rodman fitting in remarkably well with the rest of the ‘06 sets. Two Feet Thick offers a pretty great decoding of some of the tune’s lyrics, my favorite of which is likening Bulls coach Phil Jackson to “Freud walkin’ the sidelines”. Nothing monumental, just a great dirty little rock tune.

Down

Somewhere inside Mike McCready, there’s a Tom Petty album just waiting to get out.  Between “Last Soldier” and “Down”, two Riot Act-era heartland rock tunes, there’s enough promise and potential for the band to go down that dusty road if they so desired.  Though Mike intended “Down” to be much more aggressive than it became, the relaxed jangle and twang of the song sound completely natural, making it both looser and more confident than almost anything else produced in the same sessions.

The “I Am Mine” single may very well have been the last physical single I’ve purchased by any band, and I had to search fairly hard for it. I remember finding it at the giant Virgin Megastore in downtown Chicago, which means I must have had family or friends visiting me in the city, because that was the only time I had desire or reason. In some obscure corner of the store, the single racks still existed, and there it was: an off-blue digipak w/ 3 b-sides, 2 or which were non-album tracks. Oh how it brought back excited memories of finding some import that I didn’t even know existed (I still have dreams occasionally of finding some lost album that I can’t wait to listen to, always waking up before I get a chance to hear it).

I immediately liked “Down” more than any of its companions. It’s a perfectly compact little rocker, whose verses, choruses, and bridge fit together like jigsaw pieces. Vedder famously uses a Howard Zinn quote too good effect, “You can’t be neutral on a moving train”, but the politics of the song are still wonderfully vague, even self-effacing. “Cry me a river / Dried up and dammed” is a pretty loaded, playful couple of lines. “Cry me a river” is an old eye-rolling response to someone who is over-emotional about something, as “bleeding heart” is a common tag on people with liberal ideals. But in this case, a river can’t be cried because it’s been dammed, weaving an environmentalist’s concern into a play on words (dammed/damned). Plus, Vedder sings the lines with dry, upbeat humor, a call to personal/political action that is dependent on the individual, not an overwhelming collective, i.e. pick up after yourself, quit smoking, decrease your footprint, vote, people have the power, think globally act locally etc. etc. etc. Lyrically and musically, “Down” makes you want to move.

Yield

1. Brain of J.

2. Faithfull

3. No Way

4. Given to Fly

5. Wishlist

6. Pilate

7. Do the Evolution

8. The Color Red

9. MFC

10. Low Light

11. In Hiding

12. Push Me Pull Me

13. All Those Yesterdays

14. Hummus 

All Those Yesterdays

What, exactly, makes a song Beatlesesque? Is it a defineable quality beyond “you know it when you hear it?” And what Beatles period/song/member are people referring to when they describe another piece of music as being reminiscent of the Fab Four? There are a number of Stone Gossard-penned Pearl Jam tracks that beg the comparison, from “Sunburn” (though it’s still up in the air whether this is Bayleaf or not) to “Parachutes”, and especially “All Those Yesterdays”. The Yield closer gains the most allusions to John, Paul, George, & Ringo, but not much in depth examination as to why. I’m not a Beatles scholar by any stretch of the imagination, but I have a few ideas open to debate.

1. Jeff Ament’s bass sounds like a horn. Whether on purpose through technique or effects, Ament’s bass squawks and honks like a tuba or trumpet or what have you, and for that reason, that type of simulated Salvation Army brass band line recalls Sgt. Pepper’s, Yellow Submarine, etc.

2. The used of doubled-vocals and harmony tracks is similar to those employed by Beatles. Perhaps the specific harmonic intervals are approximate to certain Beatles songs we’ve all heard, which in turn are products of not only rock and roll, but British parlor tunes and vaudeville.

3. Gossard’s lyrics.  While not as specific as “A Day in the Life” or “Eleanor Rigby”, do dig into how average people get through (or don’t get through) the mundaneness of existence, while memories and experience pile up like “all those paper plates”.

Of course, whatever Beatlesy business is going on with “All Those Yesterdays”, that’s not all that’s going on.  The song eventually builds to a chugging rocker with the decidedly Vedderesque lyrics about escape, and it caps Yield appropriately in both its lean melodic sense and diamond hard approach.  Extremely rare live, it seems like a tough song to place within a set.  It closes the album, but only if you don’t count “Hummus”.  At the end of a show, or an encore, “All Those Yesterdays” might sound too much like a new beginning.  Played first, it might sound too much like an ending.  Perhaps better that the song pops up from time to time, drifting off and doing all the things such songs do.