Jam of The Pearl

June 26, 2008 by Aaron  Send to a Friend

Pearl Jam. disclaimer: we actually have photos from this but we are suffering form some technical difficulties so we had to make do illustration wise.

This wasn’t a TV studio. This was a fucking rock concert.

You assume it’s going to be epic. It’s Pearl Jam. They’ve been rocking sold-out arenas for the last 18 years. They’ve outlasted and outworked their early contemporaries, followers, and followers of their followers. You figure they know how to put on a serious show.

Knowing that, I’ll be honest. I’ve never seen a show like this. I’ve never been to a show where 15,000+ fans sang every word to every song for two and a half hours. A friend recently teased me about my fandom: “Pearl Jam’s for hippies and assholes.” And after I spent a moment thinking about which I qualified as, I wondered if it was true. Sunday night revealed that Pearl Jam was not only for hippies and assholes, but for 12 year old skater dudes, paraplegics, balding Mohawk-bearers, middle-aged soccer moms, yuppies in their 30s, and more. Basically all colors shapes and sizes.

And everyone was so ’bout it!

In order to prepare myself mentally and spiritually for the occasion, the last week’s iPod playlist has fed me solely hard-hitting tunes from the past. The Meat Puppets, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Mudhoney, Rage Against the Machine, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and the Smashing Pumpkins have provided me a steady stream of early to mid 90’s rock and roll, inspiring not only a reinvigorated world perspective but a fashion sense incorporating cut- off jeans, ponytails, flannel and tie-dye shirts.

And while they’ve never been as destructive/gossip-inspiring as some other mainstays of the 90’s “alternative” grunge/post-grunge movement, Pearl Jam has consistently put out good classic hard-rock tunes for the better part of two decades. Evoking contemporary comparisons to “big” bands like The Who, Zeppelin, or even Neil Young, Pearl Jam (in my mind) has always worked to make “do well and do good” decisions that are principled and fan-friendly, and I have a tremendous amount of respect for them because of that.

But last Sunday, musically, Pearl Jam got on my level, and lifted me to there’s.

Ted Leo opened and, while doing a fine job, revealed the difficulty in playing (and rocking) a venue of this size the majority of concert-goers were here for Pearl Jam, and as they took the stage, the swell of heat and sound that erupted made that even more apparent.

Kicking off what was to be an 18 song first set, the men of Pearl came out and got rowdy, loud, and sweaty. Working the crowd into a fervor with songs like “Severed Hand,” and “Hail, Hail,” the dudes were hopping around, crooning, wailing, effectively putting out a very serious rock vibe. The beauty in this show, however, resided in the mass crowd participation. I felt seriously understudied in the lyrical output of the band as I looked all around me to open, full borne and heart-felt singing. I saw tears, no joke, tears on (several) faces for “Elderly Woman…” and “Daughter.” As thoroughly jaded as I imagine I’ve become, I can’t help but feel an awe and general optimistic pumped-ness when I see people that affected by the music of a band – any band. I was so stoked to be a part of it.

Warmed up and ready to head-bang, I was handed the perfect opportunity as “Even Flow” got my neck in a seriously whip-lashed state, complete with a 10-minute guitar solo/interlude letting big E. Vedder take a moment to down some red wine and smoke a jay. Making our way stage right, Ryan and I grooved hardcore to what was to be the final song of the first set, “Why Go.”

First leg complete at 10pm, we’d gotten the heads-up that we were due at least another hour and fifteen minutes of gnarly rockers. Levels equaled elated and elevated. Emotional times were soon to be had. During the first encore, “Come Back,” then “Black” left me with serious chills. No joke. Regardless of what you think of Vedder, the guy is passionate about his beliefs. Although preachy, his words about change and being in the nation’s capitol came off as heart-felt and genuine. And despite your politics, there’s no doubt this band appreciates their fans, turning the entire band around to play a song dedicated to the fans behind the stage and in the upper recesses of the arena.

After straining my vocal cords to “Alive,” we were informed a “special guest” was coming out. And fuck. This was awesome. A 12 year old young boy was invited to join the band for a cover of “All Along the Watchtower” and the dude killed it. Turning up the knob and strumming his heart out, the young’n was living the dream and simultaneously inciting mass jealously throughout the crowd. We moshed the shit out of that song.

At this point the lights had been turned on and the band had blown off their scheduled endgame by about 20 minutes. Verizon workers were ready to roll but the boys rolled out one last tune, “Yellow Ledbetter.” Rock solid and deadly, the band knocked it out of the park. I felt like I’d been sucker punched. It felt great. Count me as a born-again Jam-head.

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