Yield - Pearl Jam (CD 1998)

Several years ago, a young, disappointed listener would have you believe that Pearl Jam's fifth album is/was anything less than fantastic. My present-day adjective is to dissuade you from the position once taken on this album, Yield, by that young, disappointed listener. After all .. what does he know?

And who, pray tell, am I to denounce the opinion of another?

In a completely unheralded and startling revelation, I _am_ that young man. I am that young Ten fan who somehow found Ten's emotional complexities and entanglements and anthemic, disaffected bombast more interesting and stimulating than the elusive, mellow-by-comparison Yield. However, I have seen the light and done my penance and, subsequently, realized Yield as the fantastic piece of art that it is. And that is my objective - to admit my screwiness of yesteryear, to rectify it by honoring Yield with the accolades that it deserves, and to tell that strapping young Ten fan to shove it where the sun don't shine.

Naturally, my recommendation comes nipping at the heels of several superior reviews, all of them offering their own, glowing, four-or-five-star reviews.

It "has greatness all over it," enthuses foxy_shy. It "still stands as a supreme work of rock and roll genius," declares Guildenstern. It's even a consensus among the "big-fan" populace: it's "just really really good" and "the perfect CD to showcase Pearl Jam's ability as musicians," says andym173, my brother-in-mass-PJ-reviewing-arms. MattA75 says it's simply "the best [album] of the band's career" - and if there's anyone to listen to, it's a guy who's had the experience with Pearl Jam that Matt has.

So what do I have to add? Nothing but a big mass of words and yet another beaming thumbs-up to stockpile - although I _do_ seem to have a different perception of this album's highs and lows (outside of the album's accepted masterpieces and anthems, "Given To Fly" etc., which I'll predictably describe with a number of impressive adjectives) than most, which could make for interesting reading if you're into that sort of thing.

It's hard to pinpoint what makes Yield so unique. I think it might be because it's so straightforward - it's not completely devoid of the experimental play portions of Vitalogy and No Code got so much flak for, but such in-studio goofs are largely avoided. Which isn't to say that I don't love, say, "Aye Davanita" from Vitalogy or the entirety of the relatively left-field No Code - I do - but Yield is surprisingly and refreshingly devoid of such frills, palatable enough for the mass record-buying public to enjoy (although after hearing "Who You Are" from No Code as a single, I doubt that _everybody_ was ready to give PJ another go), and uncompromising of integrity, quality, and vision. It's as near-perfect a major-label rock record as any in the 1990s, simply in scope and universality. The scope of Yield is relatively modest - it sounds like a rock band, still with a few issues to work out, otherwise aging gracefully and sort of coming to terms with everything; which essentially is what Yield is.

In terms of sheer anger and unrest, Pearl Jam peaked with album three, Vitalogy. It was an album of ugly truths and personal demons, using fatality and rage as the connecting links - and a killer album it was, just an intensely dark one. No Code was largely optimistic, cathartic; and Yield is really an extension of No Code's classicist, hopeful vibe, albeit one that's less musically... weird. Using classic rock of the 60s and 70s as a template for lots of homage and some creativity, the Pearl Jam of Yield seems to have noted a parting of the clouds... and hey, look, here comes the sun!

Doo-do-doo-doo.

***

Not that you'd be aware of it from the get-go - my experience with sunny, upbeat albums rarely involves fast, scuzzy punk numbers like "Brain of J". And the consensus is that it's a great Pearl Jam song, but it would sound better on a different album. I agree with the latter.

And it's not like you'd be aware of it from Yield's first single, either. "Do the Evolution" is a societal malcontent's statement of rage, a dark, thundering rocker that kicks off with an ominous, jagged guitar riff, and just a downright _nasty_ song. Peep things:

"i'm a thief, i'm a liar
there's my church, i sing in the choir
...
admire me, admire my home
admire my son, he's my clone
this land is mine, this land is free
those ignorant indians got nothin' on me"
....
i am ahead, i am advanced
i am the first mammal to make plans
crawled the earth, but now i'm higher
2010, watch it go to fire"

It's nasty and mean and reactionary and accusatory... and one of the most incredible songs I've ever heard. I, myself, am a sun and fun man, but I appreciate a good tongue-lashing when I hear it. Besides, as a personal aside, I've heard very few moments in rock music as musically exciting as the guitar-and-drum breakdown in the middle of this song. Elsewhere, we find hints of cynicism and sarcasm, but nothing quite as scathing as "Evolution."

Yield derives much of its versatility - and subsequent listenability - from its emphasis on the aesthetics of "the group." Previous Pearl Jam albums found the songwriting burden squarely on the shoulders of Vedder - a formidable wordsmith who still pens lyrics more vivid, thoughtful, and compulsively analyze-able than 98% of anyone who's come since (or, come to think of it, before) - but guitarist Stone Gossard and bassist Jeff Ament each take pen to paper for two songs, resulting in a pleasant variation in tone and theme throughout. Jeff Ament's maligned "Pilate" generally takes heat for the harsh contrast of its pretty verses and brash, tuneless, senseless chorus ("like pilate i have a dog/ obeys, listens, kisses, loves"), but i like both, although I'll concede that the purtiness of the verses - and the gorgeous bridge - belong in another song entirely. "Low Light" is generally a fan favorite, pretty and ethereal, and entirely too unique to describe. Gossard's "No Way" is cynical and funky, hinging on Gossard's keen understanding of rhythm - he truly is a "rhythm guitarist," laying down his parts not as a simple map for the lead parts, but as complex rhythmic foundations that fatten and enrich Pearl Jam's bag of sonic tricks, and the kitschy, fuzzed-out funk of the main riff is as good a demonstration as any of this. Lyrically, Gossard has matured, his eccentric 2001 solo album Bayleaf a flawed but fascinating recognition of this. Gossard's composition "All Those Yesterdays" closes the album, and it's passe to call this Beatles-esque but there are no better reference points for the tune than the Fab Four's mid-to-late 60s ouvre. "It's no crime to escape," the song ends on, and inadvertently establishes a main theme of Yield's - revitilization through escapism.

Of course, it's ultimately Vedder's show, as the band's finest songwriter, and if Yield isn't, pound-for-pound, Pearl Jam's best album, Eddie outdoes himself on some of the album's peaks. The Pearl Jam fan consensus is that, as a vocalist, E.V. has evolved from a screamer and growler into an actual singer, and he when he makes the jump from quivering baritone to full-throated, assured grandeur on songs like "Given To Fly," Yield is triumphant and even euphoric. He exhibits impeccable range and newfound vocal confidence - not to mention a diaphragm as big as the sea is wide. "Given to Fly" itself is an achievement, a genuinely triumphant anthem that's not frivolous or overwrought, but avoids sarcasm and patronization as well. The narrative delivers a set of wings to a man subsequently ridiculed and martyred for his difference; it's as overt an anti-racism salvo, "W.M.A." aside, that this band has ever set to wax, but one of their most impassioned, enthusiastic recordings to date. [A NOTE: You haven't been moved by this song if you haven't seen it performed on 2001 DVD TOURING BAND 2000 with Kim, a friendly sign-language interpretor for the hearing-impaired. It's a marvelous visual and musical performance.] The purty "Wishlist" is simple; an irony-free mission statement of romance, wherein Vedder ticks off goals both humble ("i wish i was the souvenir you kept your house key on") and fantastic ("i wish i was the full moon shining off your camaro's hood"). This might be Pearl Jam's most telling moment of optimism, like No Code's "Smile," but better and prettier, and denoting a change of heart for a group once filled with righteous anger - the anger's still there, but it only crops up between moments of hope and purpose. "In Hiding" is no lyrical revelation, but a musical masterwork, soaring and big-hearted like classic rock without the treacle, and proving the inherent value of a good verse and a good hook.

That much of Yield sounds like optimistic classic rock isn't accidental. Pearl Jam once, essentially, modified the Sabbath/Zep manifesto by setting arena-rock hooks to bleak lyrics of depression and the plight of society's dregs; as artists that finally seem content with their place in life, what may seem like restless retro experimentation to the untrained eye really seems like a freeing of previously-held inhibitions - emotional baggage largely lifted, the Pearl Jam of Yield really have yielded their constrictions and doubts, and just gone with the flow. Maybe Yield will, in time, be widely regarded as a masterpiece. Maybe only cool people who listen outside of the fringes of modern rock's commercial hub will really appreciate it. But Pearl Jam have demonstrated, with Yield, that evolution, maturity, and contentment aren't trivialities reserved for dinosaur rockers and wimpy eleventh-wave alt-rock; and, most of all, that "it's no crime to escape."

***

This is Part 5 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: Binaural.