Monday, November 6, 2017
10 albums over 22 years, eh? So close!
"Are Pearl Jam a salient band in this day and age?" is a dumb question. "What is 'salience' in this day and age?" is my response. (Only a slightly less-dumb question.)
"Getaway"--Inoffensive lifer-rock. Pleased to exist. Pearl Jam remain a band for the people--just, less people now. "It's okay." If you insist.
"Mind Your Manners"--Sweet beats. The ol' 1-2, in less than three. Whatever loosens the tongue and gets the finger to jabbing is fine by I.
"My Father's Son"--Least-dumb query yet: Is Eddie Vedder restrained by choice? The answer is unimportant, so long as the kid's caustic.
"Sirens"--Are shitty alarm clocks.
A rolling Stone, though? Straight cash, homey.
"Lightning Bolt"--I know the "she" in this'un. She was in the audience at the 9:30 Club, waiting patiently to be Bored, enduring the percussive pus-y maelstrom. She was the only audience member who didn't take a step back when the pounds and squeals began filling the finite space. She was a credit to her gender. She would be deaf if not for excess ear wax.
"Infallible"--Haha, that cat's named Spots! That fat guy's nickname is "Stringbean"! Best to just lean.
"Pendulum"--A Backspacer leftover. A one-car crash beneath the underpass. Fading gray is really faded green.
"Swallowed Whole"--Drifts from fluttering wings to winking stars.
"Let the Records Play"--Hand claps! Struts about like an SOB with PCP wishes and SOS dreams.
"Sleeping By Myself"--A re-do of a track that appeared on Vedder's Ukulele Songs. I wouldn't kick it out of bed for eating crackers. I wouldn't let it in my bed to begin with.
"Yellow Moon"--A reminder that the best we can hope for is to embrace the formless, and wait to feel the pulsation.
"Future Days"--An acceptable acoustic ditty.
The marvelous return to form will probably never materialize. Does Pearl Jam still matter? To the world at large, I suppose not. I'd argue, however, that art is supposed to make you think about the world, not vice versa.