Showing posts with label eddie vedder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eddie vedder. Show all posts

Saturday, February 19, 2022

Feeling Wider Than Awake: Review of Eddie Vedder's Earthling

Eddie Vedder in Cleveland, 2010

Eddie Vedder has got to be tired of talking about death. Still, it seems like interviewers want to talk to him about little else. From his father’s passing to the tragic deaths and suicides of so many of his peers, most writers appear over-eager to ask why Eddie Vedder, is, remarkably, still alive.

 

So what does Eddie have to say?

A lot. And it’s hard not to take the opening track of his new solo album, Earthling, as an answer.

 

It’s a song that builds, in a playful, rhythmic, skin-prickling way, before swirling, rocketing into space, Eddie’s rich voice soaring in a hopeful refrain. We are, he tells us, Invincible … When we love.   

 

Eddie has the answer to the sometimes-trudging weight of life, and he’s here to share it with all of us. “Invincible” is a song about how love makes life not just possible, but breathtakingly beautiful.

 

Life can be unbearable, the song acknowledges. But then, here comes a wave, a joyous crescendo of music and metaphors, of oceans and cosmos. And just when it seems like the music might burst into resplendent beams of light, Eddie reminds you,

 

Who could ask for more?

 

And so begins Earthling, a sometimes-dark, sometimes-funny, gorgeous and powerful album that explores themes of lightness, love, longing, grief, and utter contentment.

 

Obviously, Eddie Vedder is no longer the aching, angry, angst-ridden rocker he was in the 90s. And yet, if you’ve kept up with him over the years, this transformation has been neither surprising nor sudden. This is the musician who’s kept tens of thousands of us rapt, night after night, at sold-out concerts in cities around the world. He’s sung about abuse, heartache, homelessness, suicide, and serial killers. But from the beginning, even his darkest lyrics have centered on themes of dignity, empathy, and compassion. His delivery is different now, but the messages are familiar.

 

Eddie is a master storyteller, and as usual, he seems to have sympathy for the characters in Earthling — even the troubled man in “Power of Right,” whom he describes as Scared / Living in fear / An itchy trigger finger / a clown in his ear. But his empathy remains ever-rooted with the underdog. That includes a fallen elephant in the jarring, angry “Good and Evil,” in which Eddie hopes a hunter gets what she deserves.

 

Earthling’s A-List collaborators have been written about elsewhere — Ringo Starr, Stevie Wonder, and Elton John, to name a few. Then there’s “Long Way,” a song that sounds so uncannily like Tom Petty, you may believe there was one more collaborator — dialing in from the heavens.

 

All in all, Earthling is an incredible album to rock out with, to take a deep dive with, to decipher its many puzzles and pieces. More than 30 years after the release of Pearl Jam’s first alum, Eddie Vedder is still delivering bellowing baritones, poetic lyrics, and absolutely outstanding music.

 

I take the line from “The Haves” to heart, when he promises:

 

I know we got / A lot of life, life to live yet.

 

I’ll trust you on that one, Eddie, and I’ll savor what’s yet to be. Thank you.

 

 

 

 

Sunday, January 4, 2015

Every Crazy Wish Come True


I wouldn't have dared wish for the fiancé I actually got. I would have sounded like a crazy person.

If I had made out my wish list, it would have read like this:

"I wish for a man who's handsome. And I mean that in an Eddie Vedder sort of way … you know, long, curly brown hair, blue eyes and high cheekbones. He should look strong, and wear a beard very, very well.

Please make him a musician, who likes Pearl Jam. Actually, can you put him in a touring Pearl Jam tribute band, so I can go from city to city with him and sing along to all the songs? That sounds really, really fun. Thanks.

And can he be smart -- smart enough to give me advice, but gentle enough to deliver it the way I need to hear it? Make sure he can call me out when I need it, but not in a way that hurts my feelings. This is tricky but critical.

Can he be funny, too? I'd like to laugh a lot.

And a good kisser. Mmm. Definitely.

This is important: please make him like animals. He has to be compassionate -- with an extra soft spot for Beagles, since I have one who needs lots of love.

Speaking of extra love, please make sure he's affectionate, and extremely attentive, because no man has ever been able to give me as much love as I require.

Can he smell good? Whether fresh from the shower or salty and slick from a night onstage, please make him delicious.

And I hope he likes coffee, and sleeping in on Sundays. I hope he's a good cook, and that he always offers to bring me a glass of water when I'm laying on the couch feeling thirsty. I hope he likes dancing in the kitchen.

I wish for him to be hard-working but also silly.

And I want him to value a really good meal.

I wish for him to understand Seinfeld references, and I wish for him to be nice.

And I wish for him to love me too."

Is that too much to ask?

Apparently, to my utter surprise, it wasn't.

Because I found him.

I will never let him go.


Monday, December 31, 2012

Happy New Year; I'm Subtle

Today my dear friend Suaz gave me a Pee-wee Herman clutch and also a pin that says "Ask Me About My Favorite Band," because she knows me very, very well. (And also because she knows I'll wear them without a trace of irony.)




I posted this photo on Facebook, and as a result one of my friends inadvertently ended up asking me about my favorite band. 

This prompted me, of course, to describe the way Eddie Vedder tosses the guitar solo to Mike McCready when it's time to shred the song "Even Flow" at a Pearl Jam concert. Mike will go crazy while Eddie steps to the side of the stage, drinks wine, dances, and offers demure waves to his fans. Then, Mike and his guitar will --tantalizingly, I assure you-- creep back into the chorus, slowly luring Eddie back into the song. Eddie will then do one of two things: he will either slink back across the stage and take the mic, or, he will linger, and then make a mad dash at the last possible second before the chorus takes off. If Eddie's late to the mic, or even if he's not, the fans know that the next verse is theirs, and the crowd explodes: EVEN FLO-O. THOUGHTS ARRIVE LIKE BUTTER-FLIES. 

It is a reliable ritual and we Pearl Jam fan club members eat it right up. 


But in actual news:

Today was a huge day at work. We held a rescue and pulled 27 dogs and 7 cats from death row at local animal control facilities. My favorite moment was when this dog, Rollo, stepped into our vestibule. It's normal for rescued pets to be thoroughly spooked when they get to the shelter, but Rollo was like, "How you doin'?" He just totally owned it. 

"Pleased to be here, what's up?"

And now for my shameful New Years Eve ritual. I work in PR and thanks to this annual rescue, I spend my New Years Eves exhausted, wine glass in hand and glued to the news, waiting to see myself.

There we go.


Yes, I did take pictures of my TV.



Wednesday, August 3, 2011

I love Eddie Vedder with all my heart



I love Eddie Vedder with all my freaking heart.

Eddie first rocked my world in 1992, when I was 12. Up to that point, I'd been pretty much flailing along in a pubescent world, desperately trying to define myself, attempting to write hard-hitting articles for my school newspaper and hopelessly crushing on boys who would eventually prove to be dull and dissappointing.

But most of all, I was exhausted by my own clumsy attempts to play it cool all the time. By "play it cool" I mean, specifically, that I felt compelled by the laws of teenagerdom to act like I just didn't give a crap-- about anything. But bored apathy WAS NOT ME, and never would be.

No way. This world routinely leaves me dazzled and breathless. I was, even as a teen, curious, enthusiastic, easily impressed, and I had a bleeding heart. I wanted to patch the ozone layer, rescue dolphins from fishing nets, let gay people get married, and I could hardly wait to vote. And why couldn't people spay and neuter their pets?!? What was wrong with the world? In the mean time, I fell in love with writers, movie stars, teachers, classmates and other males who were no match for my loyal adoration. I cared so much and loved so large, it actually hurt. 

And then came Eddie Vedder...this beautiful human being who sang like his heart was breaking. The first time I played "Ten," Pearl Jam's debut album, I felt like the ground gave way beneath my feet. This, as the media would lambast him for, was a man who gave a crap. Eddie Vedder was talented, popular, jaw-droppingly handsome, and he wore his heart on his sleeve. 

The masses grew tired of Eddie's incessant caring, but I had been somehow validated. Even then, I was sure that I loved in the same tortured way that Eddie did in the song "Black." I knew the grief and loss in his voice in "Release." I ached for the underdog the way he did in "Jeremy" and "Why Go." And Pearl Jam played in my ears and my heart when I started to attend protests and turn my high school newspaper column into a painfully earnest soapbox.

Eddie and Pearl Jam went on to fight Ticketmaster to keep ticket prices low. They minded their carbon footprint, they collected cell phones for abused women, they created ways for their fans to get involved with worthwhile causes. And when Eddie sang, I knew he freaking meant it. 


I distinctly remember long nights as a teen in which I lay awake, genuinely panicked over the possibility that I might never get to meet or even see Eddie Vedder in person. I loved his music so much, I felt like I would never, ever be able to get close enough to it to curb my insatiable longing. 

But over the years, my love for Eddie Vedder led me to new music and authors, best friends, benefit concerts and rallies. His influence would also steer me towards non-profit work. Now, my career is nearing its first decade milestone, and I'm proud to serve as a voice for abused and abandoned animals at a fantastic and progressive animal welfare organization.

And all those wonderful things, I was surprised to find, both quenched and continued to fuel that feeling of large longing. 

Even as Eddie has mellowed, and started to write more songs about the love he has for his family, my heart swells and soars when he sings. In fact, it's his recent solo album that helped me figure out what I'm still searching for in this wide, wonderful world. Apparently, Eddie has found a love that's big enough for his enormous and hopeful heart.

I hope I will, too. 

Today--after 18 years!--my crush on Eddie Vedder is as big and all-consuming as ever. I've followed Pearl Jam around the country and even sat by Eddie Vedder at a hotel bar. (He just didn't know it. Or care.) But I also got to shake his hand after a 3-hour wait outside a concert venue in Santa Barbara. Eddie Vedder held my hand, looked me in the eye, and gave me a few sincere moments of his time. And I knew then that I hadn't been wrong about him. Eddie Vedder's kindness glows. 

He really is perfect.

Cleveland, Mother's Day, 2010