Jeremy [Single] - Pearl Jam (CD 1995)

It's emblazoned across the CD-single for Pearl Jam's biggest bona fide hit: "Not to be confused with more expensive (identical) import version." A lesson, PJ fans and amateur PJ fans: don't be duped by the friggin' import singles. They'll kill your wallet.

Lesson completed. Now, "Jeremy" was Pearl Jam's breakout, of sorts, in 1992. The song, plucked from their debut album Ten, was the only song they filmed a proper video for. (In 1998, Todd McFarlane animated a clip for "Do the Evolution" from Yield, but it featured none of the band members.) The haunting clip became extremely popular--- miraculously, Pearl Jam avoided the fate that far too many bands undergo. Armed with a top single and a video in heavy MTV rotation, Pearl Jam could have become a pop pawn, a slave to MTV's master, a ho to MTV's pimp. Following Pearl Jam's video ban, they never quite duplicated the success of "Jeremy." (Commercially, that is--- artistically, the five albums that followed Ten each showcased an incredible newfound maturity, continued audacity, and further willingness to experiment.)

"Jeremy," arguably one of the best tracks from Pearl Jam's only sub-par album, Ten, is one of the more effective songs in the band's repertoire. Part fictional jilted high-schooler, part actual Jeremy Richardson, who shot himself in front of his classmates in a Texas school, lead singer and lyricist Eddie Vedder weaves a disturbing tale of emotional unrest in the title character's affluent suburbian household and high school.

The song paints a portrait of Jeremy's happy, youthful innocence at track's start--- ominous though Jeff Ament's bassline sounds, the instrumentation is fairly inoffensive, and lyrically innocuous: "At home, drawing pictures/ of mountaintops/ with him on top/ lemon yellow sun/ arms raised in a 'v'..."

The song, then, turns eerie--- the morbid last line of the first verse, "and the dead lay in pools of maroon below," providing the tiniest glimpse into the brutally scarred psyche of Jeremy. Getting heavier, and more ominous, the music suddenly takes a turn for the dark--- the storm to the calm of the first verse. "Daddy didn't give attention/ oh, to the fact that mommy didn't care/ king Jeremy the wicked ruled his world."

From here on, Vedder assumes the role of a student, a horrified onlooker, one of Jeremy's schoolyard antagonizers. The line repeated in the haunting refrain--- "Jeremy spoke in class today"--- is crucial to the enigmatic tale at the heart of "Jeremy." Vedder continues his role throughout the second verse: "Clearly I remember picking on the boy/ seemed a harmless little f**k."

Yet, it's after a repetition of the second chorus that "Jeremy" drives its point home. The music becomes ominous, crashing, chilling--- chaotic in nature, pierced by Vedder's instictive, guttural hoots and growls. And it's amidst this chaos that Vedder delivers the most emotionally draining, the most telltale of lines in "Jeremy"--- there's a pure, animalistic fear to his delivery of the lines "try to forget this/ try to erase this from the blackboard..." Vedder's protagonist--- antagonist?--- is all grown up, has exited high school, has left everything behind save for his memories of Jeremy. He lives with guilt, and he lives with the fear that, someday, he will be judged for what he's done. Although he didn't kill Jeremy, he feels like he did, feels like his actions as a naive child caused Jeremy to kill himself. "Jeremy," while being a cautionary tale against bullying, also makes a strong statement for the selfishness of suicide--- suicide, whether it's witnessed or not, inflicts strong emotional wounds upon those who surround you. Jeremy got the ultimate revenge--- one of his tormentors will forever have to live with the guilt that surrounds the circumstances of his death.

The music that continues to the fade-out of "Jeremy" is a perfect illustration of the troubled boy's emotional tumult, despondency, anger. Vedder's chants make him sound nearly posessed--- Ament's bassline drives the point home.

The video enhances the experience of this song to some extent, it must be added. The final few seconds of the song are accompanied by Jeremy's suicide--- the gun is off-screen, and the camera closes in on the boy's eyes when the actual shooting takes place, but the effect is the same. Additionally, there's a tell-tale shot of blood-drenched students, frozen in shock. The visually striking video first sparked my interest in Pearl Jam.

What makes the single for "Jeremy" so special--- although having such an amazing song helps a good deal--- is that it contains two great b-sides that serve as the icing on an already-scrumptious cake. The first is "Footsteps," the conclusion of a mini-rock opera that Eddie Vedder penned prior to joining the band--- the first song in the rock opera, dubbed the "Mamasan trilogy," is "Alive," from Ten, articulating an exchange between a mother and her son. The mother explains to the son that the man he'd assumed was his father wasn't. The young, screwed-up man becomes a murderer and a rapist (the fiery "Once," from that album), and faces a long walk down death row in "Footsteps." The melancholy, poignant tune has musical roots in "Times of Trouble" by pre-Pearl Jam supergroup Temple of the Dog, featuring Chris Cornell. Vedder, guesting on the Temple album, penned his own lyrics to the Stone Gossard tune, as did Cornell. This is Vedder's; Cornell's appears on Temple of the Dog's self-titled album.

The remaining song, "Yellow Ledbetter," remains Pearl Jam's best b-side to date. Although it's not as delicious as it is in a live setting (what, no improvisations on the "Crazy Train" or "Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love" riffs?), this sparkling studio version is, nonetheless, a fine addition to the PJ catalogue. Relegated to b-side status, the tune really deserves a spot on the Ten album. Hell, if half of the Ten-era b-sides--- "Dirty Frank," "Breath," "Wash"--- replaced some of the weaker tracks from that album--- "Once," "Why Go," "Deep," "Release"--- it could be a nearly flawless album. But that's another argument. Mike McCready's bluesy guitar rips a stylistic page from the Stevie Ray Vaughn songbook, and Vedder's nonsensical lyrics come off as strangely poetic. It's all in the delivery.

All in all, "Jeremy" is an astoundingly good single. Purists beware--- "Jeremy" is truncated only slightly (by about 15 seconds or so), and the lone profanity is bleeped. Other than that, there's nothing worth complaining about. And, sheesh, five bucks--- it's worth it. Go west, young man.