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Then again, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised.
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But context is everything and it’s a testament to a fully engaged Vedder that his end-of-the-world epitaph is both broad enough and personal enough to land so gracefully in the middle of a moment so pregnant that any art made in reaction to it is in danger of becoming instantly obsolete. Pearl Jam has always worn its heart on its sleeve, and with cover art showing the band’s name flat-lining across a melting ice shelf, it’s pretty clear what the band’s thematic intentions were. The cumulative effect is both devastating and transcendent, like a funeral and a wake. “Alright” follows with a more delicate, electronica-flecked intro before a reverb-saturated guitar interrupts the trance and Vedder sings lines tailored for social distancing: “It’s alright to shut it down / disappear into thin air / it’s your home / it’s alright to be alone / to listen for a heartbeat / it’s your own.”Ī few tracks later, “Buckle Up,” a lilting lullaby with the most heart-wrenching kazoo break in recent memory, speaks of bedsores and sponge baths before solemnly intoning us to, “Firstly do no harm / and then put your seat belt on.” When lead guitarist Mike McCready is finally let off his leash, he cracks open the sky like it’s 1991. A delicious bit of feedback substitutes for a horn section near the climax.
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Squalling bursts of guitar noise countered by a delicate, descending keyboard melody and the crashing of Cameron’s cymbals build to an almost impossible groove. The thick, dance-groove bottom, off-kilter arrangement and spacey atmospherics continue on “Quick Escape,” about lighting out from this dead planet to another even redder one.
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Julian Casablancas on the Strokes’ prophetically titled new album, ‘The New Abnormal,’ and the moment he knew that Bernie Sanders was doomed. The Strokes’ Julian Casablancas on staying home (not too bad), the state of our democracy (really bad)
PEARL JAM ALBUMS NEW LIVE WINDOWS
The song is filled with messages that seem like they were written from the future were are now living in: No one man can be greater than the sun / That’s not a negative thought / I’m positive, positive, positive.… When every tomorrow / Is the same as before / Numbers keep falling off the calendar’s floor / We’re stuck in our boxes / Windows open no more.Īnd while the song’s particulars seems ready-made for these times in a way that’s both eerie and comforting, the swelling, gospel-like refrain at the finish becomes a disarmingly raw invocation of male compassion: “Stand back when the spirit comes.” You might think you’d landed on a new jam from the Weeknd until bassist Jeff Ament disrupts the groove with choppy, post-punk guitar fills and Vedder digs into a David-Byrne-on-ecstasy sermon. Instead of one of Pearl Jam’s trademark, throat-grabbing riffs, or the familiar, warm warbles of Eddie Vedder’s baritone, the song greets listeners with a 1980s-era synth beat over which guitarist Stone Gossard, who is responsible for a lion’s share of those aforementioned riffs, plays a throbbing, dance-floor bass while drummer Matt Cameron surrenders his sticks for a programmed, metronomic beat. The first single, “Dance of the Clairvoyants” is a good example. When I returned home some 57 minutes later - possibly to never leave again - all I could say to my wife was, “It’s like they knew.” Then Spotify, ever the optimist, teased me with the news that an old musical friend, Pearl Jam, had a new record out. Ambulatory existential reckonings had become an increasingly tall order, and my wide-ranging library was struggling to rise to the occasion even as the loss of a few friends and the infection of others had me thinking about old friends and what they’ve meant to me. Maybe these would be the days the music died too?īut on a walk around my neighborhood not long ago - that is, not long ago according to the calendar - I started my afternoon ritual of bearing mute witness to the gathering gloom by scrolling through my phone, looking for musical companionship. Now the pandemic has rendered much of pop culture, save for a few classic westerns and the miraculous Larry David, as anachronistic as a Grand Princess cruise line commercial. After all, it has been gestating for seven years, taking shape via a sort of long-distance, idea-sharing dynamic necessitated by the band members being adults with lives and children who they had been ferrying to school and soccer and the stuff of everyday life as we knew it. Of course Pearl Jam didn’t intend for its new album, “Gigaton,” to be a coronavirus hymnal.