Vs. - Pearl Jam (CD 1993)

Pearl Jam's VS. is clearly a political album. The songs, for starters, are stuffed to the gills with shades of bitter societal backlash. But it's the album's *cover art* where Pearl Jam lay down their most definitive statement. Take a look. It's a sheep, or a llama, or some manner of mangy, socially impaired beast; whatever it is, it's lonely and private, and feels caged. Look at how it strains to bite the photographer that would dare exploit it. If this pictoral evocation of isolation isn't a statement of sorts.... well, it *is* a statement of sorts, and if you think it's just an ugly animal photographed simply because the band needed something with which to adorn the album, you're mad and have forgotten of which band you speak.

VS. is not an album strictly addressing straight politics and campaign issues, although there are certainly songs here ("Glorified G," "W.M.A.") that provide insight into where the Jam stand on a few issues. VS., rather, explores--- and often condemns--- social politics: media blitzes and mental abuse and all manners of unsavory human behavior. Human politics, then, are at the center of VS.--- which then puts it in the logical thematic radius of PJ's good-but-not-*that*-good freshman album Ten. It's since become somewhat en vogue to downrate Ten in the wake of its superior predecessor; and while I hesitate to buy into any trends, I'm of the opinion that VS. actually is substantially better than Ten as an album. Ten had the more immediate singles, certainly, but the songs of VS. are uniformly good--- which, ultimately, was Ten's biggest caveat: its unwieldy ratio of mediocre tunes to great ones.

But why bother comparing? After all, they *are* two seperate albums.... isn't it moderately futile to compare like this? Can't the music of either album stand alone?

Yes. Absolutely. But--- the Ten/VS. debate is contested hotly enough, with no clear gravitation toward either side, that the comparisons are relevance. Besides, as Pearl Jam albums go, VS. comes closer to resembling Ten stylistically than any other two Pearl Jam albums. *But*, while some see VS. as self-righteous and impersonal, I see VS. as a logical expansion of Ten's classicist sound, revamped with leaner, angrier, but more intelligent songs. I'm tempted to brand VS. "the thinking man's Ten," but to do that would be to do a great disservice to all of Ten's fans. For the most part, I suppose I can chalk this one up to personal preference and media overkill regarding Ten; although I'm still admittedly flabbergasted when I hear that someone chooses Ten over VS., simply because I find so many problems with Ten's music that are beautifully rectified with VS.

It's like this. Ten's oft-cited classic rock influences are almost invariably mentioned in its every write-up, and I think that's reasonable; more'n half of that album's riff are straight outta the 70's anyhow. Unfortunately, for every tasty, Zep-loving riff, there was a song that meandered too much and overstayed its welcome. "Alive"'s climactic guitar solo, epic in length and inching toward the six-minute mark, was fine, but otherwise, the wrong songs are too long ("Deep," "Once"). A good half of that album's tracks clocked in near the five-minute mark, and on multiple listens the album reveals its deep-seated tedium. What VS. improves, then, is the meandering, and the occasionally sluggish nature of Ten--- again, Pearl Jam borrow generously from the likes of Zeppelin and The Who, but also from punk-rock's fast, compact approach. Newfound approach to rock n' roll in tow, VS. sees a p*ssed-off Pearl Jam evolving from a better-than-average, passionater-than-thou rock band into a, to overuse a terrible cliche, force to be reckoned with.

And with the world right there along with them, Pearl Jam, and specifically singer/songwriter Eddie Vedder, can't help but level shots at easily-targetable posh Caucasia. And herd behavior. And oppressive authority.

VS. is an *angry* record.

Largely angry, anyway, although it would probably be far more apropo to call it a *urgent* record. Tracks like "Go" and "Rearviewmirror" manifest themselves through driving beats and howled vocals, but to call either track *angry*, again, misses the point entirely. When Vedder seethes "I gather speed from you f---ing with me" in "RVM," it's not anger, per se, at least not as much as it's defiant. Even the chorus of raw rocker "Animal," which asserts "i'd rather be/ i'd rather be with/ i'd rather be with an animal", radiates glorious, stony defiance--- perhaps the *product* of anger, that I'll give it, but not anger itself.

So, to rectify: VS. is an *urgent* record.

And that description fits like a glove and I won't be changing it. Because urgency really *is* what the record is all about. Not just lyrically and vocally, either--- but *musically*! And not urgent in the sense that everything sounds rushed.... urgent in the sense that the tracks seem to escalate in desperation as they climax. Listen to the way Dave Abbrussezze positively *brutalizes* his drums at the end of "Rearviewmirror"; to "Animal" exploding in howls and frenetic guitar flourishes; to Vedder screaming bloody murder at the end of "Blood". Every vocal sounds desperate; every syllable sounds pregnant with emotions and implications.

Of course, just because VS. isn't *about* anger doesn't mean it's not one of its main attractions. "Blood" is as scathing an indictment of the press as I've ever witnessed, Vedder all akimbo about the media's grotesque invasions of privacy: "spin me around/ roll me over/ f---ing circus!" And, incidentally, the only PJ song that I can think of in which Eddie refers to himself: "paint Ed big/ turn Ed into/ one of his enemies". "Glorified G," too, is rooted in anger, but that of the immature variety; the song itself is a marvelous bubblegum confection, molded into something of an Elvis Costello-redux track by starkly contrasting tonal mood with lyrical content. Plus, Ed's studies at the Costello School of Songwriting have taught him that irony-via-first-person-narration ("got a gun/ 'fact, i got two/ that's okay man, 'cause i love God!") is always a good thing. It isn't, but it serves its purpose here, even if the case for gun control Ed formulates is rather flimsy and seems immature and knee-jerk. "Do the Evolution," from 1998's Yield, makes the same point utilizing the same first-person approach ("i'm at peace with my lust/ i can kill 'cause in God i trust"), but does so more effectively and seems more a scathing indictment than an indignant retort. "W.M.A." is angry, too, but is more about misplaced blame than anything; Vedder feels guilt at being a White Male American, because authority's thinly-veiled racism skips him over and really affects his black friends ("police stopped my brother again"), but directs much of his anger at the perpetrators ("he won the lottery when he was born..... do no wrong, so clean-cut/ dirty his hands it comes right off"). But where "W.M.A." really succeeds is its instrumentation--- no big guitars, just looped tribal drums and thick bass--- calling attention to the issue not by inciting anger, but by disturbing, by haunting the listener.

What else impresses me about VS.? Stone Gossard, for one thing. I'm amazed by how seamlessly a bespectacled, goofy-looking cracker in an alternative-rock band can introduce funk into rough-and-tumble "big rock" and still make it sound great. Indeed, if you didn't know your funk, you'd probably overlook it entirely; fortunately for us aspiring funkateers, it just adds another layer to the record, from the staccato guitar squelches in "Animal" and "Blood" to the downright groovy "Rats". Kudos all around.

And the songwriting! Lawd, has the songwriting improved. Instead of angsty soul-purgings, we get dead-on metaphors and universal pieces of advice like "escape is never the safest bet" and "hearts and thoughts they fade away". And those quotes, respectively from "Dissident" and "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town", are just gems amongst more gems, intensely quotable and instantly singable songs ruling the day. Sure, stuff like "Leash" and its terribly immature yowls of "get outta my f---in' face!" get old quick, but even "Leash" has its own rakish charm when Eddie gets around to screeching "delight... delight in our youth!"; "Rats," similarly, runs its gimmick (unfavorable comparisons between humans and vermin) into the ground but redeems itself with a delectable funk groove and a welcome homage to Michael Jackson's "Ben". And when a song like "Daughter," one of the purest, most perfectly-written pop tunes I've ever heard, is not only *on* your record but your record's *hit*, well.... there's faith to be had in humanity.

So *is* VS. Pearl Jam's best album? As a sort of critical groupie, I'd have to say.... sometimes. When it's not one of the six albums that followed it. But as a slightly-retro, topical, primal scream of an album, it's an unmitigated success, and a monumental testament to Pearl Jam's talent and plaintive honesty.






This is Part 2 in my "Make My Jam the P.Jam, I Want My Jam Uncut" Rewrite-off. It was intended as nothing more than a venue for me to update some crappy reviews of some great albums, but if anyone wants to get in the spirit and re-do your old Pearl Jam reviews, well, I'd just love to read 'em. Next up: Vitalogy.