In twenty-four hours I will either
be elated or depressed. That’s because
tomorrow night is the first half of the regular season version of the Superbowl
for me; the regular season meeting between the Miami Dolphins and the Buffalo
Bills.
My hatred for the Buffalo Bills is
deep and abiding; founding in the countless gridiron wars of division rivals,
and cemented with two painful playoff losses (1990/91 and 1992/93) which denied Dan
Marino two trips to the Superbowl.
On the plus side, the Bills lost
both Superbowls, and two more besides. Whatever
happens tomorrow I have two words for Bills fans, “Wide right.” Har har har.
Disc 457 is… Vitalogy
Year of Release: 1994
What’s up with the Cover? It’s designed to look like a leather bound book of
the same name, that was a sort of health and medicine journal from the turn of
the century.
The original Vitalogy was full of
all kinds of (now) hilariously dated advice, some of which is reprinted in the CD
booklet. Highlights include a warning
against ‘self-pollution’ or ‘the unnatural and degrading vice of producing
venereal excitement by the hand or other means’ and a suggestion that “if you desire children, fix your thoughts on
beautiful things.’ Definitely
mutually exclusive with the self-pollution, I’m guessing.
How I Came To Know It: For the second week in a row, my friend and former
roommate Greg gets the credit. He
introduced me to both Pearl Jam and this album.
How It Stacks Up: I have ten Pearl Jam albums, which I think is all of
them. I currently have my eye on Eddie
Vedder’s “Ukelele Songs” but haven’t bought it yet. In terms of where “Vitalogy” fits in I’ll say
6th, right after “Lost Dogs.” If you click that link, you’ll see I actually rated “Lost Dogs” as 6th
but having heard “Vitalogy” again I was less impressed than expected, and so there
was room for “Lost Dogs” to move up.
Rating: 3 stars
“Vitalogy”
is a story that could be called My Three Songs – like the Fred MacMurray TV show
“My Three Sons” but without all the drawings of men’s loafers. I call it that because this is an album that
has three really great songs, but like the show, overall it doesn’t stand the
test of time like you expect it will when experienced years later.
My Three
Songs are so good that I often put them on my MP3 player, party mixes or
homemade ‘best ofs’ (yeah – I sometimes make those for my personal
amusement). Over time, those three
songs have come to overshadow the rest of the albm, which is still fondly
remembered because of the amazing short list it has generated. Sadly, when I went back to revisit the full
recording I found the full length play didn’t hold up to the excitement of the
highlight package.
Before I
get into what I didn’t like, let’s give My Three Songs their due. “Nothingman”
is a beautiful five star rock ballad about a love lost. Pearl Jam is always melodic but have that
grunge propensity to bury those melodies sometimes too deep in a muddy
sound. “Nothingman” is stripped down, allowing Stone Gossard to show the
softer side of his guitar and the band’s greatest asset – the voice of Eddie
Vedder – soar over top of the arrangements.
Hearing Vedder croon “caught a
bolt of lightning/cursed the day he let it go” is a welcome warning to appreciate
how lucky I am to have someone in my life who lights up a room and makes my heart
skip a beat (the lovely and talented Sheila) – and not to lose that. That Pearl Jam can write a song that can sink
you into the depression of such a loss (without actually having to lose it) is
a fine piece of art indeed.
Its
companion piece comes six tracks later with “Better Man,” a song about the other kind of marriage – the loveless
kind. Heartbreaking lyrics like “She lies and says she’s in love with him/Can’t
find a better man” and “She practices
her speech as she opens the door/she pretends to sleep as he looks her over.” The tempo of “Better Man” speeds up in a way that “Nothingman” doesn’t, but it is the speed of desperation, not
resolution.
The
third great song on the album is the poorly titled (but otherwise excellent) “Corduroy,” a song that captures the
visceral energy of the band’s previous two albums. I’m not sure what this song is about – maybe an
encounter with a beggar aware of the painful ramifications of his own freedom,
maybe just an attempt for Vedder to understand his audience. Maybe it is even more personal than either of
those things. You can’t always tell what
Pearl Jam is singing about, but the stream of consciousness in “Corduroy” still fills me with a deep
rejection of all things false and artificial, even if I’m not sure what
direction it is leading me.
Unfortunately,
“Vitalogy” is just as likely to have self-indulgent tripe as it is to
demonstrate greatness. The song “Bugs,” which immediately follows “Corduroy” sounds like something composed
on a broken harmonium by Adam Sandler’ character in “Punch Drunk Love” and fill
me with the same impotent rage his character felt.
“Hey Foxymophandlemama, That’s Me” is
almost eight minutes worth of pointless sampling and semi-musical groaning that
is about as silly as the title of the song would suggest. Nearer the end the song becomes almost listenable
(Pearl Jam’s considerable talents as a band seemingly shining through their
active efforts to wreck stuff) but it is too little too late.
The bulk
of the record is neither amazing like “Nothingman”
nor frustrating like “Hey Foxymop –
whatever” and is solid straight ahead rock and roll very much in the style of
their first album, “Ten” although with the exception of My Three Songs,
not as good. There is a good energy to songs
like “Spin the Black Circle” “Satan’s Bed” and “Not For You” that hold up well, but not enough to fully pull this
record into four star territory.
I
appreciate that Pearl Jam is trying new things on this record. In fact, one of my favourite things about
this band is that they are willing to try new sounds and not be afraid to lose
their audience. I own ten of their
albums, and play most of them quite often, so they’ve never lost me going in
new directions – if anything I’ve enjoyed the journey through sound. My Three Songs on their own are almost a five
star record, but the misses are significant as well, and they have a deliberate
pointlessness about them that is hard to forgive. Take it all together and we have a record
that on balance I must reluctantly give three stars, but bordering on four.
Best tracks: Nothingman, Corduroy, Better Man
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