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.

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.   

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.

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:

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

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

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

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?

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.  

  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.

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

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!

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.