The Half Of It

VS
10/19/93

Six days after VS appeared on record store runways, an "action" shot of Eddie Vedder appeared on the cover of Time. "All The Rage," the text insisted. For a man unused to white-out lights manned by a person or persons he couldn't see with his own eyes, such an honor proved anything but. Pearl Jam valued shared ethics over professional success, a stance that while laudable on its face nonetheless provoked sneers and smirks both expected (mass media, Gene Simmons) and surprising (local media, Kurt Cobain).

The band rebelled by refusing to make any music videos for the singles off VS. For the best; no need to try and visually compete with "Rump Shaker." Audiences responded by snapping up 950,000 copies in the first week, a record that would stand for five years. 'Cause one thing about Pearl Jam fans--they ride and multiply for their guys.

"Go"--Leather gloves strike cement block. Enough screwing about. Time to bring shears to the tug of war.

Second album, second drummer. Dave Abbruzzese even contributed a guitar part! Nice one, dude. Shining on the smooth blue isn't quite as rapturous a journey as slipping on the slick pink, but who am I to nitpick? No one's in this for medals or ribbons.

"Animal"--From chipmunks to sharks, perros a los cocodrilos, animals rise and reign. The rambunctious grumblings of agitated humanoid allies is the best we can do.

"Daughter"--The last song ever heard by (at least) nine people.

Eddie Vedder had a non-creepy interest in writing from the female POV, certainly a check in his column. Any unease derives from the actual subject matter: parents whose refusal to respect their child's learning disability culminates in physical abuse. Consider the fact that the shades don't need to be lowered in some neighborhoods if you're still not bummed.

"Glorified G"--New Drummer hailed from Texas, a state where the priority chain goes: God-guns-get up 'n go. Gumption or dysfunction? Someone raised in a more "progressive" part of the country might look at a proud owner of a gun as, shall we say, short-sighted.

So imagine how Eddie took the news that New Drummer bought two firearms. Or don't, hell, he wrote a song about how he took the news. Real good one too. "Glorified G" is more jibe than screed, but fret not--that's coming.

"Dissident"--Dude shit. Aluminum cans and stick shifts. Anyone with the foresight and fortitude to resist is fine by me, mind.

"W.M.A."--I promised you an overwrought reaction to an understandably frustrating situation and I am woman who keeps promise.

Short for "White Male American," this song is to be credited for calling out white privilege in America years before strangers were suggesting check-ups to each other on the Internet. For all Vedder's corn-popping, the band (especially the 2 A's) are grooving in the pocket. It's like, I kinda wanna roll my eyes, but I definitely wanna roll my hips.

"Blood"--Why sing of it when you can drink of it? How much was drawn, I can only plead the fifth.

"Rearviewmirror"--Rescue squad's arrival ain't imminent. Plan your own escape route. Follow through.

Expand. Leave the past where it belongs. Show up to the beach with nothing but prescription drugs and sunglasses.

"Rats"--The point (that rats are preferable to people) falls apart under scrutiny. The song, thankfully, does not.

"Elderly Woman Behind the Counter In a Small Town"--After all those one-word titles, no less.

Ballad of a lingering lady. Small town life is life or Life, depending on how happy one is to serve the sentence. A small town is a place a person is born in, lives in, stuck in, struggles in, thrives in. It all depends on the individual's make-up. I find the success stories admirable and detestable. Feeling trapped in one place distorts the mind body and soul. Stay stuck long enough, you'll become an emotional Smith Island Cake.

"Leash"--Reliable stomp and spin. "We got the means to make amends."

"Indifference"--Five guys exited the studio to stare judgmentally at the sun before returning to record "Indifference." Poor Ed; hundreds of vocalists took his genuine sound* and ran with it, stumbling every third of a mile.


Pearl Jam show versatility and sensitivity throughout VS. It doesn't travel the rarefied path of Ten, but the dips don't ruin the tires.




*Not liking something doesn't make that thing fraudulent.