Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Three The Hard Way

ALICE IN CHAINS
11/7/95

During his rehab stint, Pearl Jam guitarist Mike McCready met fellow musician John Baker Sanders. The pair returned to Seattle upon release, and began playing with Screaming Trees drummer Barrett Martin. McCready approached Layne Staley, himself freshly out of rehab, to sing for the group. Mad Season's debut album was knocked out in less than two weeks. It would spawn two mainstream rock radio hits on its way to gold certification.

AIC's third album followed eight months later. The creation of the so-called "Tripod Album" (or, "Aww, That Poor Doggie") was considerably more arduous, as Staley skipped numerous studio sessions to get high.

"Grind"--Song the first hums from lashing indignation. AIC were the redhead stepsons of grunge, eating mud pies and swearing they saw Grandma in the backseat despite the fact she'd been dead for years. They didn't cite cool influences, didn't run screaming from the spotlight, and had a dumb name. Atop it all, their days were certainly numbered what with their singer turning himself into a pincushion.

Persecution complex thus activated, "Grind" is the bleak buck-back. More a raging boar than bull, really.

"Brush Away"--Critics ain't shit. However, I wonder how easily Staley brushed away the jabs of peers (q.v., Mudhoney's "Into Yer Shtik").

"Sludge Factory"--Throughout the album, effects and layers are used more frequently than on past records in an effort to hide the havoc that years of abuse wreaked on Layne's voice. (Shoulda showed the drums a similar kindness.)

AIC never disowned their hair-metal roots, but even Motley Crue knew better than this.

"Heaven Beside You"--Clearly, one of the first six.

Jerry Cantrell's moaning over a break-up again, but it's so magnetic (ah those harmonies) I was almost convinced to root for him. Then I remembered: this is but one side of the story. So nowadays I just nod my head and murmur.

"Head Creeps"--That dog's mournful look compels. Doesn't look like the mopey sort, yeah? Sure some people act all creeped out when they see him, and that has to hurt his little doggie feelings, but ultimately, he can still walk, eat, accept belly rubs and administer genital baths.

Learn from the three-legged dog.

"Again"--Smells like unprotected teen sex in the deserted parking lot of a Checkers. Vague is always in vogue, so focus on the stutter-stepping cyclops with two heads, won't we?

"Shame In You"--A beautiful slosh. Who's "she"? Doesn't matter. If she forgot to buy flashlights in case of an electrical storm, then she deserves all the darkness she gets, and may her subsequent profuse sweating prove enervating.

"God Am"--The Jehovah's Witness of the album. It needs to get off my property before I smack some teeth loose.

"So Close"--Weary of the cycle, fatigued by the circle? Blur the lens.

"Nothin' Song"--Fidgety, yet relaxing. The perks of cat ownership in song form.

"Frogs"--Thoughts of death can uplift--it's all in the framing. Thoughts of survival can dishearten--think frogs in increasingly hot water.

"Over Now"--Bury the heirlooms! Burn the old wardrobe! Adieu adieu, my heavy lids.



I remember the disappointment the first time I heard this album. Time has not changed much of my mind. Layne Staley's careworn voice is even more noticeable, and Jerry Cantrell de-emphasizing killer riffs in favor of bubble and scrape is just silly. Still went double plat, though. Cuz 90z.

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