4 posts tagged “pearl jam”

When we'd been dating about a year (and some change), my husband burned me a compilation CD, a.k.a. the late 90s version of a mixed tape, on Valentine's Day.  [These are the memories you have when you start dating in high school.]  He titled it "Our Songs".  I cherished that CD. 

We took it in the car with us on our date that evening, and when he brought me home later and walked me to the front door, I said as I lovingly looked at the CD in its case with custom cover printed out on the laserjet and folded into the front case panel, "I am going to be SO careful with this."  T-minus 0.01 seconds later, I dropped the CD, the case smashed in two pieces and the CD rolled out and eventually landed, face down, on the cement.  We both just stood there mouths agape, silent.  Then we laughed so hard we about peed our pants.

Music has been a common thread for my husband and I, even before we started dating.  In fact, the first time I ever remember hearing his name was in the same sentence as a Weezer song.  My friend Hollie in the seventh grade said, "My boyfriend, Andy, really likes the song 'Buddy Holly'."  My husband and I are approaching the 10-year anniversary of being together (dating, that is - we've only been married 2.5 years) and, what,13 years of knowing each other, I realized that there are 13 years of songs that touch different parts of my memory with him.

Case(s) in point, [I'll upload these tracks back at home if I get the chance later today]:

1. Pearl Jam: "Jeremy" is a dark schoolbus ride back from the University of Illinois after watching our high school football team play Champaign Centennial High at Memorial Stadium.  Everyone sitting two to a seat.  My friend and I passing the time singing songs that we knew.  We started singing "Jeremy" and Andy's head whipped around so fast his neck might have broken.  He never knew I liked his music.  Then he started singing too.
2. Barenaked Ladies: "One Week" is sheepskin seat covers in my coveted spot in the passenger seat of Andy's old rusty white Jeep Cherokee.  Windows rolled down, singing out the window with our other friends - in cars in front and behind us - all caravaning out to our spot in the country.  Most of us didn't have our driver's licenses yet, so we all hitched with our older, luckier friends.  Winning the front seat in his car was a prize to be much celebrated amongst the girls later.
3. Barenaked Ladies: "Pinch Me" is riding a ski lift in Breckenridge, CO, wiggling my toes to get the blood flowing again and singing so loud we feared we'd cause an avalanche.
4. Ben Folds: "The Luckiest" is hearing a song a hundred times, but listening to the words for the first time, together, live at a concert.  And the words hit home like a punch to the chest.

Pete Yorn is college dorm rooms, and Foo Fighters are a million mosh pits until mosh pits got scary - then they were assigned seats as close as we could get.  Pearl Jam is grassy lawns and blankets, and sometimes rain.  A lot of really wet rain.  Red Hot Chili Peppers' Californication album is the two of us steam-stripping really difficult wallpaper off my walls of the bedroom in my old house.

Ever since music became a part of my life, he was a part of my life.  And I was a part of his.  And we listen because it helps us remember what it felt like in the beginning and in the middle.  Someday this will be the middle.

Share a song from your favorite band.

It's Pearl Jam.  It has to be from Pearl Jam.  Always. 

Because you haven't experienced poetry until you've heard it spoken.  Or sung.  Played? 
Because the music and words combined tap into a sense that doesn't quite belong to the other five - where your heart aches, your blood tingles, and your breath catches right at the diaphragm. 
Not to mention that it is meant to be played loudly.  This appeals to the teenager on a very basic level, I think, because amplitude has that beautiful side effect of drowning out all thought.  Like when your Dad jokes that you should hit your thumb with a hammer if you want to get rid of a headache.  The brain only has so many processing paths.

And this is weird.  But I feel called to share this song.  It's far from one of my favorites and not one I'd normally share to get people psyched about my favorite band.  The music isn't spectacular, but the words...

It means nothing for a person to tell you what poetry means to them - so here it is.  Interpret for yourself.  It meant a lot to Andy and I in those tumultuous coming-of-age years.  But we're all kind of always coming-of-age, aren't we?

Do you see the way that tree bends?
Does it inspire?
Leanin' out to catch the sun's ray, 
A lesson to reapply.
Are you getting something out of this all encompassing trip?

You can spend your time alone
Redigesting past regrets,
Or you can come to terms and realize
You're the only one
Who can forgive yourself.
Makes much more sense to live in the present tense.

Have you ideas on how this life ends?
Checked your hands and studied the lines?
Have you the belief that the road ahead
Ascends off into the light?

Seems that, needlessly, it's getting harder
To find an approach.
Ain't no way to live.
Are we gettin' something out of this all encompassing trip?

 

 

Present Tense

Pearl Jam

Share your favorite piece of music trivia.

When Pearl Jam originally started recording, they called themselves Mookie Blaylock, which was the name of a b-ball player for the New Jersey Nets at the time.  Mookie didn't care much for sharing his name, so lo and behold, PJ was forced to find another.  (The source of their current name is still under much debate.)  When Pearl Jam finally released their first album, Ten, they did so as a nod to their original namesake.

Mookie

School play or Broadway musical... What's the best performance you've ever seen?

Pearl Jam.  Bonner Springs, KS.  June 2003.

Ever gotten stuck in torrential rain?  The kind of rain that you're pretty certain IS actually coming down in solid sheets, not distinguishable drops?  Like someone is pouring the bottomless bucket of water over you?  I have never before, and never since, experienced a rainstorm that had that kind of heavy rain for the extended period that it did that night in June.  We still call it "Kansas City rain".

There we were, 10th row center - in an outdoor amphitheater.  The rain had started while we were outside in line, waiting to be admitted.  My husband - and some friends of ours - tried to bring umbrellas in but, of course, being dangerous weapon-like objects that they are, umbrellas were not allowed.  There was never any question that we'd endure the weather.  Our tickets blatantly read "Rain or Shine" in all caps at the top.  Ironically, we'd sat for hours in the sun with our fellow fan club compadres earlier that day to get those seats.  This was one of three Pearl Jam concerts that we went to that summer.  We thought of it as our mini-tour with the band.  Three concerts probably doesn't seem like much, but it was a big money commitment for a bunch of college students.

So when the rain started, we went from "Crap, this is inconvenient" to "Dude, this really sucks" in no time flat.  My husband (well, not at the time I guess) took off his button down shirt for me to shield my face to try and prevent my contacts from washing out.  That quickly soaked through.  My hair hung in thick wet ropes.  Our friend, at one point, took off his hooded sweatshirt and rung out a couple gallons of water and commented that he felt about 20 pounds lighter with the sweater off.  I took off my boots and poured a bunch of water out of those.  We all agreed we'd have been dryer if we'd jumped into a swimming pool with all our clothes on.

The concert was delayed for about an hour.  So for an hour stood in this.  More and more concert-goers abandoned ship as the time drew on.  Finally, Eddie walked out on stage and started singing "Release," the powerful closing song from their first album.  When he sang, "I see the verse... in the rain" the entire crowd erupted in an absolute uproar.  When Ed continued with "Oh dear Dad, can you see me now?" A HUGE bolt of lightning webbed the entire sky and a crack of thunder followed suit.  Ed looked up and said, "Hi Dad."  How do you recount a concert?  It's been quite awhile since, but the four of us were all in agreement.  Of all the times we've seen Pearl Jam - before and since - it was the most impassioned set list we have witnessed.  The crowd was entirely comprised of their truest fans, and the band fed off it. 

The most apropos song was played halfway through the set.  "Whipping"... "Don't need a raincoat, I'm already wet." 

Release

Don't need a raincoat, I'm already wet

Sing it, boys

Mike playing for the soggy commonfolk