My Pearl Jam Anniversary and a New Live Album

It's hard to process that it's been nearly 20 years since I first clutched Pearl Jam's Ten album. At age 15, those tracks were a life ring, buoying me to the surface of an entire new world of music and culture that just so happened to surround me in my dreary, rainy hometown of Seattle.

I still remember the date precisely: January 17, 1992. That was the first time I ever saw Pearl Jam live, at the Moore Theatre. My new stepsister had bought me Ten for Christmas, and also hooked me up with tickets to that show. So off we went, my best friend and I and my stepsister and her dude, crammed in the back of a rocker-era Celica.

Pearl Jam came out to the wordless "Master/Slave," took the stage, and proceeded to rock me to my core through their blistering set. They played nearly every song off Ten (their only full album) plus a couple of covers including The Who's "Baba O'Riley." The energy was intoxicating - especially as Eddie Vedder climbed the rafters and swung from the balcony right in front of us.

A camera crew recorded the night, and later that spring I shrieked as I saw the video for "Even Flow." (If I look closely during the end of that video, I can still point out where we stood.)

To this day, my love for Pearl Jam continues to burn. Last night - January 17 - was the release party for PJ's newest live album, Live on Ten Legs. It was an apt way to celebrate my two-decades-long love affair with the band. I pine for the old, freer, younger days (don't we all). But I love that, despite the passing of two decades, a live Pearl Jam set is just as dynamic as ever. I picked up the vinyl copy of the album on the way out, and now I'm itching to get home from work tonight to spin that black circle.

Per the Ten Club fansite, here's a listing of the tracks on Live on Ten Legs:

"Live on Ten Legs" Tracklisting:

1. Arms Aloft

2. World Wide Suicide

3. Animal

4. Got Some

5. State of Love And Trust

6. I Am Mine

7. Unthought Known

8. Rearview Mirror

9. The Fixer

10. Nothing As It Seems

11. In Hiding

12. Just Breathe

13. Jeremy

14. Public Image

15. Spin the Black Circle

16. Porch

17. Alive

18. Yellow Ledbetter

New Year's Eve of Decades Past: Nirvana on MTV's Live and Loud

My junior year in high school, during the last week before Christmas break, I overheard some extraordinary news in history class: Pearl Jam and Nirvana were playing a show at Pier 48 in Seattle. The price of admission? Canned goods for a food drive.

After school, my girls and I anxiously drove straight to the waterfront in search of the action. Forget homework - or common sense. We had to get in to this show!

We waited outside in the cold for at least an hour or two, in a line that snaked alongside a derelict part of town. Each of us took turns running to a nearby mini-mart to buy some soup for the food drive.

There was no guarantee of admission - and so we hoped and prayed. At last the line shuffled inside. We eagerly handed off our cans and entered an old warehouse.

We were in!

At some point during the afternoon - I believe it was once we were inside, if memory serves - we learned that Pearl Jam wouldn't play after all. Singer Eddie Vedder was apparently ill. I, among others at the gig, speculated it a symptom of the rivalry between PJ and Nirvana. I surmised that somewhere, EdVed was lurking in the audience, watching the show go down, seeing if this guy Kurt Cobain was for real.

My evening was already ruined by this point. I couldn't give two craps about the other bands on the bill - The Breeders and and Cyprus Hill (even with PJ's Stone Gossard, Jeff Ament, and Dave Abbruzzese on one song) were not my thing. And, being a die hard PJ fan, I sided with them in any fictitious battle and sour-faced my way through Nirvana's set. 

I thought they stunk. 

Two weeks later, when MTV finally aired the Live and Loud concert on New Year's Eve 1993, I was stunned. The band - loose and terse on stage - were crisp. Buoyant, even. Was this the same show?

Maybe MTV's sound engineers scrambled to "fix" the recording before it aired. Maybe I'd been standing in a poor-acoustics section of the warehouse. Maybe my bad mood marred my impressions.

All I know is, now, looking back, I'm amazed and indebted that I was at this gig. 

Only a few months later, in April 1994, Kurt would be found dead. I'd hear of his death in that same history classroom. This show was the last time I saw him -- living loud and live.