Measure Up

GIGATON 

3/27/2020

Album eleven, the first in seven years, how convenient. Ha! Since when, for whom, how come?

Global uncertainty is a given. How much it affects someone depends on how much of the evidence they are willing to witness and weigh. Hope floats? Hope erodes? Hope exists. Hope is a prerequisite for the very act of creation. Art made with trembling hands and wet eyes and a lump on the heart is ultimately hopeful. 

I hope this album is actually good. 57 minutes, their longest yet. The last time I thought this much about Pearl Jam was the 2016 World Series, when the Cubs were down 3-1 and my mind reeled with visions of Eddie Vedder, Bill Murray, John Cusack, Billy Corgan and maybe even Chris Chelios looking sad in their comped seats during Game 5 (heartbreaking nail-biter, heartbreaking ass-kicking, take yer pick).

"Who Ever Said"--Wow, this melts my thinking cap. (Ugh.) A meandering intro gives way, a muscular missile commander makes hay. I dug it, I dig it, I thought about even dancing a little.

"Superblood Wolfmoon"--Who's the she? I wanna trade gibberish with this chick. Stadium rock was then, sternum rock is now. 

"Dance Of The Clairvoyants"--As far as "first singles not indicative of the project's overall sound" go, this is tops. (There are keyboards throughout, however.) Bruce Springsteen and Tina Weymouth skip mirrored tiles across the river on this tech-heavy, funk-addled outlier. Misled fans are the best. 

"Quick Escape"--Blessed are the fence-makers. Guitarists are all right, too. Chorus singers are...okay? Fedora dogs and doomy Dudleys irritate me.

"Alright"--Yeah, thanks for the self-awareness. Next, teach me the point of fishing.

"Seven O'Clock"--Cool heads prevail for six minutes. Wherein we learn fire cools, amid other flexible truths. Dread is a choice. 

"Never Destination"--This is old PJ, begrudgingly pleasing glittery swelter-seekers. Real dogs bark and bite, but only the saddest cats bat the Bob Honey hive. 

"Take The Long Way"--Meagan Grandall makes history with her backing vox on this, a tribute to the endless beef jerky strip sustaining the boys since the Andrew Wood days.

"Buckle Up"--Daydreaming on a back porch. Ain't no party like a search party, 'cause a search party knows when to stop.

"Comes Then Goes"--Don't it though. "Wilder" doesn't always mean "better." Unless you're talking about Willy Wonka films.

"Retrograde"--The tumbling ninety-second echo at the conclusion is a sneak(ish) peek at a world sans resolve. Made for rock radio--not a complaint. 

"River Cross"--There's two types in this world: those who vilify addicts, and those who vilify addiction. Bodies of water exist for people freaked out by churches. I can never hang out by either for too long before catching a whiff of corpse.

Gigaton is pretty good, yeah I know, same here. Eddie Vedder sounds comfortable with how uncomfortable he sounds, and the sonics are succotash that can play the feature role on most dinner plates. 

For reasons best known by the unknown, hope sounds/feels a lot better than love to me these days.