You Never Forget Your First

I had a great parenting moment the other day. My 7-year old son came frantically running down the stairs of our home and said five words I’ll not soon forget, “Dad, I like a song!” he exclaimed.

The best part of it was that for my son this was probably the first time he had ever experienced this. Sure he’d tolerated music riding around in my Jeep, maybe even liked some of it. But he had never found the music for himself; those songs had never been his own. And I loved the way he said it. “Dad, I like a song” was shouted with the same coming-of-age surprise of “Dad, I found a chest hair!” It was if he had never been surer about anything in his whole life.

I wasn’t about to let this moment pass me by. Determined to reinforce the behavior I sprinted upstairs to see what song he was listening to. I fully expected to hear some bubble gum pop or Auto-Tune hip-hop song to be playing; I was surprised to find the clock radio tuned to our local mullet rock station 93X. After giving my son a proud glance, I turned my attention to trying desperately to decipher enough of the lyrics to punch them into Google. A few seconds into this excellent track I had a revelation, “Holy crap, this is Eddie Vedder. And it’s new.” For the record, the revelation that the first song your son likes is Pearl Jam is just about as awesome as him bringing a beautiful girl home on a date.

Damn near hyperventilating I worked the lyrics (something about brothers and sisters) into Google and scoped the 93X site for their current play list. After a false start looking for the song which I learned was called “Brother” on the Pearl Jam rarities disc Lost Dogs, I learned the version of the song I was actually looking for (with lyrics) would be included on the Ten anniversary reissue, Pearl Jam Ten (Legacy Edition), out this week.

In some ways Pearl Jam Ten was also my first. Besides maybe Achtung Baby (out around the same time), Pearl Jam’s Ten was my first polarizing music experience. I vividly remember sitting in the backseat of cars in high school listening to Ten not knowing whether I should make fun of it or love it. A few of my buddies spent the summer at a church camp and I still remember them coming home with the same reaction. There was no doubt about it. Ten was different. You couldn’t ignore the sound. Unfortunately this classic album was at least partially to blame for all the coeds wearing flannel shirts and jeans my entire four years of college. But with a sound like this it might be worth the trade.

The Ten reissue comes in several flavors. The one I purchased had two discs. One is simply a remastered version of the original Ten, the second disc Ten Redux features a Brendan O’Brien remixed version of the record as well as six previously unreleased new tracks, including my son’s new favorite song “Brother.”

Overall I must say it was a treat to listen to the majesty of Ten once again and be reminded of Jameson shots in the dorms and driving to Tower Records in Boston for midnight album releases. To this day one of the coolest live music experiences I’ve had was when Pearl Jam used to open shows in complete darkness playing “Release.”

I’m not sure what to make of the Brendan O’Brien remixes, they end up feeling more remastered than remixed. It’s not until some extra backing vocals appear on “Jeremy” that we even see his hand. Sure he takes the butter knife blunt guitar grunge and gives it a little steak knife shimmer, but it’s damn subtle. It’s almost as if O’Brien was too scared to mess with a masterpiece. Which is a shame because everyone is going to get the original album as part of the dual disc set anyway. I really wish O’Brien would have thrown caution to the wind and had some fun messin’ with the record. Personally I’d love to hear what Ten would sound like in the vinyl bin at Rebel Rebel records completely remixed and ready for the Soho Grand lobby. It seems O’Brien felt more comfortable messing with the lesser known tracks as hits like “Alive” and Even Flow” remain relatively unchanged. He does tuck in the flannel and add some gloss on tracks like “Once” and “Garden.” But not enough to make a meaningful difference.

As for the new stuff, I must agree with my son that “Brother” is splendid. It just feels good to have some new Pearl Jam in the world, and “Brother” is vintage stuff from the band. Over the course of four minutes it prominently features circular guitar riffs and shredding solos that would sound great to amp up any pregame hockey skate, and it includes a syrupy Heart of Darkness sequence in the middle where Vedder slows it down only to restart it all up again a few moments later.

If I had to pick the voice to be in my personal super group it would be Ed Vedder. Note: he’s constantly referred to as Ed (not Eddie) Vedder in the liner notes and for some reason typing that just feels fantastic. It’s like calling Robert DeNiro “Bobby.” Vedder is carved into my musical Mt. Rushmore in large part due to slow down sequences like this one in “Brother.” He’s the master at providing that Martin Sheen in the hotel sense of total abandon. Part of it is his voice is big enough to throttle down like that and not lose your attention, and part of it is the big space emotion and imagination his voice immediately coveys. It’s the same reason he was the perfect choice to do the Into the Wild soundtrack. If anyone can put rock & roll back in the loincloth, it’s Ed Vedder because no voice sounds better under the expanse of the stars. The last song on Ten, “Release” manages to bridle this spirit horse for an entire nine minutes as like Jim Morrison with a surfboard, Vedder stares at you cross eyed and says, “I’ll ride the wave where it takes me!” somehow still convincing you to paddle out behind him.

“Just a Girl” desperately wants to be “Why Go,” but sadly stays on the leash. “Breath and a Scream” starts out sounding like a studio track, but very quickly gets raw with some drums.Vedder sings, “I suggest you step out on your porch and run away my son see it all, see the world” his voice cracking with passion. In some ways “Breath and a Scream” is three acts delivered across six minutes from studio, to tribal, and finishing with a wicked Mike McCready guitar solo at the end.

“State of Love and Trust” is a riff masquerading as a song, but the chops from McCready and Stone Gossard are so good it almost leaves you not caring. I’m sure “State of Love and Trust” sounds great played live with the steam coming off the crowd.

“2,000 Mile Blues” is just that, a bluesy little romp that ultimately doesn’t have the strength to defend itself against the distortion peddles leave it sounding more like noise than music. “Evil Little Goat” is more goofy stuff from the grab bag as the title might suggest. I’m guessing it’s somehow linked into the Chicago Cubs and the curse.

Truth is “Brother” is the best of the new bunch and the only thing worthy of being included in on Ten if they were to add a track to this famous album. The rest are mostly just scraps from the table and there’s not much to the remixes either. But I can honestly say it was worth the purchase for the memories and more importantly for my son to say I love you back to music for the first time. Thanks Ed Vedder for reminding me how easy it is for the sound of one big voice to remind you how big the world is out there. Now go see it.