Even though we learn history as a series of events, with very few exceptions it doesn’t really work that way. Sure there are historic moments that we all sit up and take notice of, but maybe only a few in a lifetime. (Recent ones that come to mind are Pearl Harbor, Kennedy’s assassination, and of course 9/11.) So, while we all learned that World War I started when the Archduke got shot, I’m willing to wager that most people (even in Europe) didn’t even know it had happened and that those who did scarcely expected just how widespread the consequences would be.
Which is why this shit freaks me out so much. Right now it’s over there and involves two other countries and sure we’ve got a whole other war we’re actually fighting. But this kind of crap has a bad habit of spreading. I think another all-out war involving Israel is about the scariest possibility of all in the Middle East and right now it seems they’re walking right up to the brink of it.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Hey blog, what’s up? Haven’t seen you for a while. You look good. Did you lose a little weight? Yeah. I know, I’m sorry I never write. Or call. Or even read other blogs. I know I can be insensitive. Let me make up for it. I’m sure I’ll never neglect you again.
***
We notice the big changes more, but I think it’s the little battles, the skirmishes around the edges, where change really happens.
That’s why I don’t think you have to care about football or sports or colleges or Michigan at all to take some small bit of interest in this story.
The athletic director and the president of the University of Michigan want to add luxury skyboxes to Michigan Stadium. The stadium is one of the country’s oldest and largest, with a capacity of over 100,000. As you can see, the stadium is a huge oval, with only press boxes that interrupt the shape. However, given its age, the stadium is in pretty desperate need of renovations that will cost millions. The plan to add skyboxes would help recoup the costs of the other renovations.
The thing is, there’s nothing inherently evil about luxury skyboxes. I would never argue that a new stadium should be built without them. I’ve had the pleasure of attending a handful of basketball, hockey, and baseball games in box seats and the appeal is obvious. So it’s hard to argue against the basic concept. And it’s easy to say, “It’s just one stadium.”
But I think it’s more than that. There’s a kind of strange beauty in the tradition of a gigantic public stadium like the one at Michigan. The kind of place where every fan who piles in is sitting on a bleacher seat amongst a sea of humanity. To me, adding what amount o plush condominiums on the side of that stadium, would be to rob it of some of that history and tradition and beauty. It would kill a little something in Michigan U culture. More and more, it seems we are willing to surrender ourselves and our community to the almighty dollar. It makes me sad.
I’m a believer in communities and the power of people working together. My faith in the power of togetherness is the foundation for virtually everything else I believe in – from democracy to live music. Communities with pride are miraculous and powerful things.
So, while I might not often have a lot of positive things to say about Arizona (and Phoenix in particular) I’ll say that one thing I love about this place is that while we do have plenty of places like Dodge Theatre, US Airways Center, Wells Fargo Arena, Chase Field, and Cricket Pavilion, we also have Glendale Arena, Marquee Theatre, Celebrity Theatre, Cardinals Stadium, Sun Devil Stadium, Walkup Skydome (in Flagstaff), and (in Tucson) Arizona Stadium and McKale Center.
These places – stadiums, theatres, concert venues – are where communities come together. These places form the basis for whatever civic pride we might have, and I believe civic pride is a vital thing.
I grew up in Denver which is a place with a very strong sense of community in every way – great fan support for sports teams, major city centers where large numbers of people work, a strong downtown people are happy to visit and are proud of, good nightlife, well-developed public transportation, etc. It’s a strong community that’s perennially among the highest ranked in surveys of good places to live. It’s also one of the highest ranked cities in terms of healthy population. I can’t believe that this is all a coincidence. (For example, you might argue some of this is due to geography and climate but Seattle’s geography and climate are almost exactly opposite to Denver and yet it too is a town with a lot of civic pride and well-known as a popular place to live.)
In my teens, Denver had a quickly growing population, skyrocketing property values, etc etc. To catch a game or a show I went to places like McNichol’s Sports Arena, Mile High Stadium, Fiddler’s Green, and Red Rocks Amphitheatre. Places whose names said something about the community, about the place itself. In 1996, the Avalanche won the Stanley Cup, the first pro sports championship for the Denver area. And in 1998 and 1999, the Broncos won the Super Bowl. I know few things without doubt but I know that I will never experience another night like the night the Broncos won their first Super Bowl. Imagine a team (or a music group, or a movie star) who you love with every atom in your body, a team (or etc) you have loved since birth. Imagine that for years they have failed, or (trust me it’s even worse) come oh so close to glory but fallen short. And then, just at the point you’ve resigned yourself to the permanent misery of a Cubs fan, your team (etc) wins. Imagine how ecstatic you would feel – for them, but also for you, you who has lived and died watching them for years and years. Then try to imagine that everyone else in the city where you live feels the exact same way. Imagine what it was like for me on that day when my mother, who was always aware of sports but never seemed to care in the least (unless it was to roll her eyes at the silliness of it all), broke down in tears in the second half because Green Bay had taken the lead and she thought, “The Broncos are going to blow it again. Just when I let myself get my hopes up.” Have you ever seen complete strangers on the street hugging? Have you seen grown men cry tears of joy? Probably not, unless you were in Denver that January night (or in Boston when the Red Sox finally won the World Series a few years ago). It was magic. The city exploded, but not into riots or violence (which sadly isn’t rare and is what happened pretty much anytime Dallas won the Super Bowl). The city exploded with love. It was the craziest week I’ve ever lived through. That’s the public benefit of sports teams.
But since those wonderful days (and since I’ve moved away) they tore down McNichol’s and built something called the Pepsi Center (even though Albany already had a place called Pepsi Arena – formerly the much more charming Knickerbocker Arena), they renamed Fiddler’s Green to Coors Amphitheatre (even though there was already a Coors Amphitheatre in San Diego), and – worst of all by far – tore down Mile High Stadium and had the audacity to call the new place Invesco Field (OK, they caved and decided to make it Invesco Field at Mile High, but that kind of patronizing is almost worse).
Population growth slowed. Housing prices declined. Homes were foreclosed. The bubble burst. Is this coincidence?
OK, probably it is.
But I’ve heard stories from those of you who lived here or have had family here for years. Stories about the year the Suns made it to the finals and the whole Valley got Suns fever. Stories about grandmas and cousins who caught Suns fever that year and still have it. Isn’t it a beautiful thing when that happens? Even if it’s only happening because of a stupid game, isn’t it beautiful?
I think we lose some of this when we let our stadiums be called not by names that are recognizable and geographically relevant even to non-sports fans but by ever-rotating monikers based on yearly profits and airline mergers. Everyone knew about Mile High Stadium. Even if you’d never heard of it, you’d know where it was. But Invesco Field, what the hell is that?
And I think it holds true for the tradition of Michigan Stadium, this epic venue where seeing a game today is not fundamentally different then seeing a game there in 1960. They’re willing to sacrifice the beautiful tradition of the place for the possibility of money. We all are. We, as a society, have proved we’re willing to make that trade. And I humbly submit that we’re clearly none the better for it.
Michigan’s board of regents will vote on the proposal this week. I’m hoping it gets denied. It’s a small thing. But it matters.
***
We notice the big changes more, but I think it’s the little battles, the skirmishes around the edges, where change really happens.
That’s why I don’t think you have to care about football or sports or colleges or Michigan at all to take some small bit of interest in this story.
The athletic director and the president of the University of Michigan want to add luxury skyboxes to Michigan Stadium. The stadium is one of the country’s oldest and largest, with a capacity of over 100,000. As you can see, the stadium is a huge oval, with only press boxes that interrupt the shape. However, given its age, the stadium is in pretty desperate need of renovations that will cost millions. The plan to add skyboxes would help recoup the costs of the other renovations.
The thing is, there’s nothing inherently evil about luxury skyboxes. I would never argue that a new stadium should be built without them. I’ve had the pleasure of attending a handful of basketball, hockey, and baseball games in box seats and the appeal is obvious. So it’s hard to argue against the basic concept. And it’s easy to say, “It’s just one stadium.”
But I think it’s more than that. There’s a kind of strange beauty in the tradition of a gigantic public stadium like the one at Michigan. The kind of place where every fan who piles in is sitting on a bleacher seat amongst a sea of humanity. To me, adding what amount o plush condominiums on the side of that stadium, would be to rob it of some of that history and tradition and beauty. It would kill a little something in Michigan U culture. More and more, it seems we are willing to surrender ourselves and our community to the almighty dollar. It makes me sad.
I’m a believer in communities and the power of people working together. My faith in the power of togetherness is the foundation for virtually everything else I believe in – from democracy to live music. Communities with pride are miraculous and powerful things.
So, while I might not often have a lot of positive things to say about Arizona (and Phoenix in particular) I’ll say that one thing I love about this place is that while we do have plenty of places like Dodge Theatre, US Airways Center, Wells Fargo Arena, Chase Field, and Cricket Pavilion, we also have Glendale Arena, Marquee Theatre, Celebrity Theatre, Cardinals Stadium, Sun Devil Stadium, Walkup Skydome (in Flagstaff), and (in Tucson) Arizona Stadium and McKale Center.
These places – stadiums, theatres, concert venues – are where communities come together. These places form the basis for whatever civic pride we might have, and I believe civic pride is a vital thing.
I grew up in Denver which is a place with a very strong sense of community in every way – great fan support for sports teams, major city centers where large numbers of people work, a strong downtown people are happy to visit and are proud of, good nightlife, well-developed public transportation, etc. It’s a strong community that’s perennially among the highest ranked in surveys of good places to live. It’s also one of the highest ranked cities in terms of healthy population. I can’t believe that this is all a coincidence. (For example, you might argue some of this is due to geography and climate but Seattle’s geography and climate are almost exactly opposite to Denver and yet it too is a town with a lot of civic pride and well-known as a popular place to live.)
In my teens, Denver had a quickly growing population, skyrocketing property values, etc etc. To catch a game or a show I went to places like McNichol’s Sports Arena, Mile High Stadium, Fiddler’s Green, and Red Rocks Amphitheatre. Places whose names said something about the community, about the place itself. In 1996, the Avalanche won the Stanley Cup, the first pro sports championship for the Denver area. And in 1998 and 1999, the Broncos won the Super Bowl. I know few things without doubt but I know that I will never experience another night like the night the Broncos won their first Super Bowl. Imagine a team (or a music group, or a movie star) who you love with every atom in your body, a team (or etc) you have loved since birth. Imagine that for years they have failed, or (trust me it’s even worse) come oh so close to glory but fallen short. And then, just at the point you’ve resigned yourself to the permanent misery of a Cubs fan, your team (etc) wins. Imagine how ecstatic you would feel – for them, but also for you, you who has lived and died watching them for years and years. Then try to imagine that everyone else in the city where you live feels the exact same way. Imagine what it was like for me on that day when my mother, who was always aware of sports but never seemed to care in the least (unless it was to roll her eyes at the silliness of it all), broke down in tears in the second half because Green Bay had taken the lead and she thought, “The Broncos are going to blow it again. Just when I let myself get my hopes up.” Have you ever seen complete strangers on the street hugging? Have you seen grown men cry tears of joy? Probably not, unless you were in Denver that January night (or in Boston when the Red Sox finally won the World Series a few years ago). It was magic. The city exploded, but not into riots or violence (which sadly isn’t rare and is what happened pretty much anytime Dallas won the Super Bowl). The city exploded with love. It was the craziest week I’ve ever lived through. That’s the public benefit of sports teams.
But since those wonderful days (and since I’ve moved away) they tore down McNichol’s and built something called the Pepsi Center (even though Albany already had a place called Pepsi Arena – formerly the much more charming Knickerbocker Arena), they renamed Fiddler’s Green to Coors Amphitheatre (even though there was already a Coors Amphitheatre in San Diego), and – worst of all by far – tore down Mile High Stadium and had the audacity to call the new place Invesco Field (OK, they caved and decided to make it Invesco Field at Mile High, but that kind of patronizing is almost worse).
Population growth slowed. Housing prices declined. Homes were foreclosed. The bubble burst. Is this coincidence?
OK, probably it is.
But I’ve heard stories from those of you who lived here or have had family here for years. Stories about the year the Suns made it to the finals and the whole Valley got Suns fever. Stories about grandmas and cousins who caught Suns fever that year and still have it. Isn’t it a beautiful thing when that happens? Even if it’s only happening because of a stupid game, isn’t it beautiful?
I think we lose some of this when we let our stadiums be called not by names that are recognizable and geographically relevant even to non-sports fans but by ever-rotating monikers based on yearly profits and airline mergers. Everyone knew about Mile High Stadium. Even if you’d never heard of it, you’d know where it was. But Invesco Field, what the hell is that?
And I think it holds true for the tradition of Michigan Stadium, this epic venue where seeing a game today is not fundamentally different then seeing a game there in 1960. They’re willing to sacrifice the beautiful tradition of the place for the possibility of money. We all are. We, as a society, have proved we’re willing to make that trade. And I humbly submit that we’re clearly none the better for it.
Michigan’s board of regents will vote on the proposal this week. I’m hoping it gets denied. It’s a small thing. But it matters.
Friday, May 19, 2006
Pearl Jam has released their first music video in 8 years (bet you didn't even know about that one, did you?).
And it scares me.
A lot.
(Watch it here.)
And it scares me.
A lot.
(Watch it here.)
Monday, May 15, 2006
Saturday, May 13, 2006
I don't want to be rude here, because apparently at some point he finds ways to score (last night he had 32 according to the paper), but I never really see Shawn Marion do anything but miss lay-ups.
I'm not a Suns fan but I've watched a few of their games during the playoffs and it's infuriating from a fundaemntal perspective. The Suns will be out on a 2-on-1 break and Nash will dish to Marion for an uncomtested lay-up ... that he misses. Or he'll pull down an offensive rebound and go back up ... and miss the lay in. Hell, last night I only saw one play in the Suns-Clippers game as I walked through the bar of a restarant where we ere eating. The play was Marion missing a lay-up on a fast break.
How good would this guy actually be if he made all his easy shots?
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
I think maybe someone should take my credit cards away.
(Diana, I’m in $50,000 of debt and this is how I’ve chose to tell you. Just kidding! Did you really think I was Nicki from Big Love? You did for a second, didn’t you?)
For the past several weeks I have been holding out hope that, since Pearl Jam’s current tour plans ignore pretty much everything south of the Mason-Dixon line (including Arizona) that they would announce fall tour dates for our part of the country for when they finish their European tour. Instead they have announced they are going to go tour in Australia. I now bear a grudge toward boomerangs.
So, either they will come visit Phoenix (but not until 2007 sometime) or we’re getting skipped completely. I know this is ridiculous, but this really bums me out.
I’ll see them on this tour anyway, because I’m driving to San Diego on July 7 to see them there. But now, with little prospect of them playing Phoenix for a year at best or three or four more years at worst, I’m getting the itch to drive to Vegas for the show the night before that one, too. (I could take a half day from work and be there in time! I think.)
This all started a few years (wait, actually 6 years. God I’m old) ago, in 2000 when (living in Tucson and having no Friday classes) I decided I could drive to Albuquerque on Friday, see the show, then drive and see them in Phoenix Saturday night. Then I found out the Sunday night show in Vegas would be their tenth anniversary concert and I had to go to that, too. And so I became a person who is willing (indeed, gets giddy at the prospect) to travel to concerts. I saw three shows in three nights in three different states.
But since then I’ve only seen Pearl Jam in concert once. In 2003 I had planned to see them in Las Vegas and then again the following night back here in Phoenix. I changed my mind, though, and decided to just spend the weekend in Vegas with friends. I sold my Phoenix ticket to some guy on eBay.
Pearl Jam tours are few and far between so I have always tried to maximize. I saw them first when I was in eighth grade (1993) and then made sure I found a way to get tickets to both of their 1995 shows at Red Rocks. Then nothing until 1998. It was the prospect of having only seen one show in 5 years that inspired me to go on the road in 2000. And now I’ve only seen one show since then.
Tickets are still available for Las Vegas via Ticketmaster. I thought perhaps if for whatever reason our June Disneyland trip didn’t work out that I would be able to justify taking another day off to go to LV. Happily (and I really mean that) Disneyland has worked out and I’m excited to be going. But now my excuse for going to LV is gone.
It is so tempting, though.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Dear Pearl Jam,
Thanks for the really great new album. I mean, I’ve been a big fan of all your stuff but there’s an energy to this new stuff that is special. I can see why you’re excited about sharing it, being more visible in the press, and all that. So thanks.
Having said that, and without wanting to be rude, let’s talk about something you really have to do.
See, the penultimate song on your new record (“Come Back”) is one of the most amazing things you’ve ever written. I was happy to see that the song made its live debut the other night at Irving Plaza. But … mid-set? What’s that all about?
I mean, you would never play Yellow Ledbetter randomly in the middle of a set, right? So why do it with Come Back, seeing as it’s so obviously such a perfect “last song”? You’ve probably already thought of this, though. You’re all very good at what you and when it comes to putting on a concert no one is better. Maybe this is already in the works for tonight’s set. You know, Ed, how you’ll say something like, “Thanks for coming. We hope you’ll all come back tomorrow night so we can do this again.” How you’ll let Mike just go off on a ridiculous solo, then bring back Ed with the little woos and “Come Back! I’ll be here!” with the crowd singing those lines right along, really feeling it. Maybe the band will even leave the stage while Mike is still playing (the way you sometimes do with YL) and the crowd will keep singing and Mike will keep kicking their asses.
Won’t that be an especially perfect closer for the first show of a two-night stand in a given city? I thought so. But you wouldn’t even have to limit it to that. One of the genius things about Yellow Ledbetter is that it’s not just a great musical way to say goodbye – the whole “I don’t wanna stay” thing is poignant. “Come Back” could be equally poignant, reassuring. As fans we often wait 2, 3, even 4 years between shows in our hometowns. Why not at least thank the fans for such patience with a simple request like this at the end of some shows?
As I said, though, I’m sure you’ve already thought about this. I’m really looking forward to it. (In San Diego.)
Thanks again. Great song. Great record.
Sincerely,
Everyone with ears
PS
If you decide you want to use it as a set closer or as the last song in an encore break I won’t be too upset. Just for variety’s sake.
Thanks for the really great new album. I mean, I’ve been a big fan of all your stuff but there’s an energy to this new stuff that is special. I can see why you’re excited about sharing it, being more visible in the press, and all that. So thanks.
Having said that, and without wanting to be rude, let’s talk about something you really have to do.
See, the penultimate song on your new record (“Come Back”) is one of the most amazing things you’ve ever written. I was happy to see that the song made its live debut the other night at Irving Plaza. But … mid-set? What’s that all about?
I mean, you would never play Yellow Ledbetter randomly in the middle of a set, right? So why do it with Come Back, seeing as it’s so obviously such a perfect “last song”? You’ve probably already thought of this, though. You’re all very good at what you and when it comes to putting on a concert no one is better. Maybe this is already in the works for tonight’s set. You know, Ed, how you’ll say something like, “Thanks for coming. We hope you’ll all come back tomorrow night so we can do this again.” How you’ll let Mike just go off on a ridiculous solo, then bring back Ed with the little woos and “Come Back! I’ll be here!” with the crowd singing those lines right along, really feeling it. Maybe the band will even leave the stage while Mike is still playing (the way you sometimes do with YL) and the crowd will keep singing and Mike will keep kicking their asses.
Won’t that be an especially perfect closer for the first show of a two-night stand in a given city? I thought so. But you wouldn’t even have to limit it to that. One of the genius things about Yellow Ledbetter is that it’s not just a great musical way to say goodbye – the whole “I don’t wanna stay” thing is poignant. “Come Back” could be equally poignant, reassuring. As fans we often wait 2, 3, even 4 years between shows in our hometowns. Why not at least thank the fans for such patience with a simple request like this at the end of some shows?
As I said, though, I’m sure you’ve already thought about this. I’m really looking forward to it. (In San Diego.)
Thanks again. Great song. Great record.
Sincerely,
Everyone with ears
PS
If you decide you want to use it as a set closer or as the last song in an encore break I won’t be too upset. Just for variety’s sake.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Golf and Dads
Earl Woods, Tiger’s dad, died yesterday after years of pretty extreme sickness and prostate cancer.
I’m not usually a big fan of parents, like Earl Woods, who really press their kids toward some potential professional career. The father of Venus and Serena Williams, for example – or Jennifer’s Capriati’s parents – may have produced well-known star athletes, but you have to wonder how many kids out there had the same lack of a childhood due to that kind of parent and yet will never achieve any sort of fame at all. But Tiger’s dad, for all his faults and bad quotes, seemed to be a genuinely good guy, and I’m sad to learn of his death.
Maybe I forgive him because it seems (to the extent that anyone on the outside can know) that Tiger himself is a phenomenally well-adjusted person. I think it’s a great compliment to any parent to have a child turn out to be as composed and articulate as Tiger is – never mind how much harder it is to be well-adjusted when you’ve lived a life under such intense scrutiny as Tiger has.
Tiger is only in his early 30s – I think he may actually have just turned 30, but I’m not sure – so this is still a young age to lose a parent. His dad has been sick for years, and this is no surprise, but it still has to be hard.
Over his career, Tiger has often been accused of lacking emotion – which I think is completely ridiculous – but even if it were true I don’t think any son could have sat unmoved through the victory speech he gave after winning The Masters last year. He plainly choked up and nearly cried as he recalled that every previous time he had won the tournament his father had been there with him – 2005 was the first year he was not. And Tiger, barely able to get the words out, said he couldn’t wait to get home to give his dad a hug, then quickly thanked the crowd and walked away. It is to me a moment as defining and wonderful in his career as any of the many great shots he’s hit and putts he’s holed.
So, I’m very sad for Tiger today.
But, as a fan, I’m also very intrigued. Golf is one of those few games that you can excel at by sheer force of will. Even the player who doesn’t have all parts of his game working can win if he wants it more than the other guy. Tiger has proved this himself often enough (and it helps that even when he doesn’t have his A game that he’s still as good or better than anyone else talent-wise). He hasn’t won a major since that Masters last April. For Tiger, that actually counts as a long drought.
I think that “drought” is going to end, though, in a big way. In 2000 I was lucky enough to get to attend some of the US Open at Pebble Beach – when Tiger broke every conceivable record winning by such a ridiculous margin that you’d have thought he was playing a different course. I frankly expect the same thing at this year’s US Open. That is, I don’t just expect him to win, I expect him to embarrass everyone else in the field. And the same thing at the British Open in July, the PGA in August, etc etc. I’m just telling you now: Look out.
I’m not usually a big fan of parents, like Earl Woods, who really press their kids toward some potential professional career. The father of Venus and Serena Williams, for example – or Jennifer’s Capriati’s parents – may have produced well-known star athletes, but you have to wonder how many kids out there had the same lack of a childhood due to that kind of parent and yet will never achieve any sort of fame at all. But Tiger’s dad, for all his faults and bad quotes, seemed to be a genuinely good guy, and I’m sad to learn of his death.
Maybe I forgive him because it seems (to the extent that anyone on the outside can know) that Tiger himself is a phenomenally well-adjusted person. I think it’s a great compliment to any parent to have a child turn out to be as composed and articulate as Tiger is – never mind how much harder it is to be well-adjusted when you’ve lived a life under such intense scrutiny as Tiger has.
Tiger is only in his early 30s – I think he may actually have just turned 30, but I’m not sure – so this is still a young age to lose a parent. His dad has been sick for years, and this is no surprise, but it still has to be hard.
Over his career, Tiger has often been accused of lacking emotion – which I think is completely ridiculous – but even if it were true I don’t think any son could have sat unmoved through the victory speech he gave after winning The Masters last year. He plainly choked up and nearly cried as he recalled that every previous time he had won the tournament his father had been there with him – 2005 was the first year he was not. And Tiger, barely able to get the words out, said he couldn’t wait to get home to give his dad a hug, then quickly thanked the crowd and walked away. It is to me a moment as defining and wonderful in his career as any of the many great shots he’s hit and putts he’s holed.
So, I’m very sad for Tiger today.
But, as a fan, I’m also very intrigued. Golf is one of those few games that you can excel at by sheer force of will. Even the player who doesn’t have all parts of his game working can win if he wants it more than the other guy. Tiger has proved this himself often enough (and it helps that even when he doesn’t have his A game that he’s still as good or better than anyone else talent-wise). He hasn’t won a major since that Masters last April. For Tiger, that actually counts as a long drought.
I think that “drought” is going to end, though, in a big way. In 2000 I was lucky enough to get to attend some of the US Open at Pebble Beach – when Tiger broke every conceivable record winning by such a ridiculous margin that you’d have thought he was playing a different course. I frankly expect the same thing at this year’s US Open. That is, I don’t just expect him to win, I expect him to embarrass everyone else in the field. And the same thing at the British Open in July, the PGA in August, etc etc. I’m just telling you now: Look out.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Super Tuesday!
So today is the big day.
You know what I’m talking about.
I’ve been waiting for years for this to finally happen.
A new album.
From one of the greatest artists of the 90s.
One of the greatest artists of all time, really.
Finally, today it happens.
Jewel’s new album is out.
(Oh, also I guess Pearl Jam and Tool have new CDs coming out. Who even knew they were still around?)
* * *
If you thought I was done foaming at the mouth over how good the new Pearl Jam is, well, then you obviously don’t know me very well.
As for Tool, I’ve heard the artwork with their new album is really spectacular. The case comes with a pair of 3-D glasses and … well, you know, it’s Tool so we can all guess at what kind of 3-D images are inside. And, considering the album is only $10 on sale this week, it’s a tempting purchase. Unfortunately, I already listened to the album and it’s … pretty uninspiring. I like Tool, and this album is by no means bad, it’s just nothing new. Only two tracks really capture my interest. (On the plus side, that’s two more tracks than captured my interest on Lateralus so at least it’s an improvement.)
You know what I’m talking about.
I’ve been waiting for years for this to finally happen.
A new album.
From one of the greatest artists of the 90s.
One of the greatest artists of all time, really.
Finally, today it happens.
Jewel’s new album is out.
(Oh, also I guess Pearl Jam and Tool have new CDs coming out. Who even knew they were still around?)
* * *
If you thought I was done foaming at the mouth over how good the new Pearl Jam is, well, then you obviously don’t know me very well.
As for Tool, I’ve heard the artwork with their new album is really spectacular. The case comes with a pair of 3-D glasses and … well, you know, it’s Tool so we can all guess at what kind of 3-D images are inside. And, considering the album is only $10 on sale this week, it’s a tempting purchase. Unfortunately, I already listened to the album and it’s … pretty uninspiring. I like Tool, and this album is by no means bad, it’s just nothing new. Only two tracks really capture my interest. (On the plus side, that’s two more tracks than captured my interest on Lateralus so at least it’s an improvement.)
Monday, May 01, 2006
I hate avocados. But not records with avocados on their cover.
I know I’m biased.
I am one of those obsessive Pearl Jam fans who buys their new records at midnight and buys their bootlegs and travels to neighboring states to see them play live.
But the thing is I’m a realistic obsessive Pearl Jam fan. I never would have tried to convince anyone that Binaural or Riot Act (their two most recent efforts) were albums worthy of praise or even purchase by an average music fan. So try to take me at face value when I tell you that you should really at the very least strongly consider buying Pearl Jam’s new self-titled record when it comes out tomorrow.
It’s their best album in 12 years. Actually, maybe longer.
There’s a little bit of everything on offer here. The album kicks off with five of the strongest straight-ahead punch-you-in-the-face rock songs that the band has come up with in years.
“Life Wasted” is all power chords and a positive Eddie Vedder who sings: “I have faced it, a life waster. I am never going back again.” It’s actually one of the few personal songs on the album. This is one of the strengths. Eddie seems to have finally learned that whe it comes to telling stories showing is better than telling.
This is Pearl Jam so there are political tracks and those will be talked about, but it’s not as political as I would have expected.
There are typically almost-punk Pearl Jam rock tracks in the tradition of “Animal” or “Even Flow”: World Wide Suicide, Comatose, Severed Hand, Big Wave. There are songs with huge soaring melodies in the vein of “Alive”: Life Wasted and Marker In the Sand, an open letter to God that may be the album’s best track.
But after the jolting first five songs, the album gets significantly softer in tone. And – this is what really makes the album stand out from their lesser efforts over the past decade plus – the second half of the album is as strong or stronger than the first half. “Parachutes” features a drifting melody that’s reminiscent of Lennon. “Gone” sounds like a classic Bruce Springsteen track. And the seven-minute closing track “Inside Job” heeds the well known truth that rock music is always just a little better with piano.
But all of those tracks pale in comparison to “Come Back,” which is the most unique song Pearl Jam has ever written. The song feels a little like an old Elvis lounge song, as if the band took inspiration from the feeling of their last hit, their cover of J Frank Wilson’s “Last Kiss.” It’s the best vocal Vedder has put down in I don’t know how long. Some sad songs are pretty. Some are just sad. This one is both and yet is also redemptive – it’s the kind of sad song that pays tribute to how good the good times must have been. Can you tell? I’m obsessed with this song.
I’d almost say that “Come Back” by itself is worth you dropping $10 to get the album while it’s on sale this week, or from iTunes at some point. Even if not, then Come Back and Marker In The Sand together are worth it. But the whole thing shines.
I’m serious. If you like rock music, do yourself a favor and buy this record. Pearl Jam, finally, is back.
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