Student Choice Test

Album Review

Pearl Jam – Ten

9/10

                It seemed only natural that the early ‘90s Seattle scene would take off with Nirvana. It was, after all, fertile enough to produce Nirvana. And when a band gets famous – meaning incredibly, ubiquitously famous – everything remotely associated with them generally gets pulled along for at least part of the ride. The Beatles, after all, were followed across the Atlantic by the Rolling Stones, the Who, the Kinks, and countless others. Whether by choice or by popular demand, everything arrives in the vortex of popularity.

                This is far from a bad thing. And when Pearl Jam emerged in 1991, with grunge exploding into the mainstream consciousness, they showed the true capacity for talent that Seattle possessed, far beyond the downtuned sludge most other groups had mastered.

                The most prevalent quality to the music found on the still-stellar debut Ten would have to be how anthemic each song sounds. There’s weight riding on each note, on each distorted note of heavy, but not bone-crushing guitar. There’s just a little more soul to what they’re doing; far from Nirvana’s intentionally vapid pop/hardcore shtick, there’s a desire for expression, even storytelling, that echoes Bruce Springsteen of all people.

                The sound on Ten is excellent; the guitar sound is flawless, being all-consuming but not overwhelming, and lending itself well to everything. Eddie Vedder’s voice carries well over the din, distinctive and howlingly passionate enough to inspire countless pale imitations. The sonic attributes as a whole manage to somehow be expansive and intimate at the same time; for all the sprawl of “Even Flow”, “Oceans”, and “Release”, there’s also the oxymoronically spacious, claustrophobic atmosphere of “Jeremy” and “Black”.

                Similarly, the lyrical content shifts seamlessly through the various levels of personal familiarity. There’d be no questioning the legitimacy of the emotional content on “Alive” or “Black”, but the more general yarns – “Even Flow”, “Jeremy” – remain relatable and meaningful. There’s darkness, but never truly depressing amounts. The sorrows and melancholies only serve to provoke, to invigorate, rather than to suppress. It’s equally suited to sitting and brooding as it is to the more energetic forms of musical consumption.

                It’d be wrong to compare them to Nirvana. Not due to any lack of respect to either group, but because it’d be like comparing the proverbial apples to the proverbial oranges. Much like Oasis and Blur a few years later, they were the two largest ringleaders of the same specific phenomenon despite having virtually nothing in common. Nirvana prided themselves on their wholehearted embrace of irony and nothingness in every aspect of their music; meanwhile, Pearl Jam went about their business as earnestly as they could, and changed what the grunge era could mean as a result.

Original Song: "Bitter"

Has the sky gotten smaller, or am I looking at it less?

The clouds never seemed so far away

I try to sleep the day away, but I’m never getting rest

The kindling’s there, but the fire won’t start

They never say that once you grow up, your only option’s to grow old

And in each day there’s less adventure

The trees turn grey instead of green, meanwhile the sun is growing cold

When the birds fly south, they won’t come back

I want to watch you fall asleep, I want to be taught how to breathe

I want to look up and see a sky, I want to look down on the sea

I want to run and never stop, I want to forget what I’ve been taught

I want to know what it is I want

I want to be free

It’s like a crippling weightless burden, it’s an invisible blinder

It’s these shackles made of air

I wanna fly too close to the sun, and then swiftly fall to Earth

You have to learn how to fall before you can soar

That Song

By: Tom Hanlon and Liam Kenney

If you were expecting this song

To be deep and meaningful

You are sadly mistaken

I’m afraid

Woke up this morning

Had a project due today

Wrote the lyrics on a napkin

Threw the napkin away

The lyrics were so bad

They made my grandma cry

If they don’t get better

She will surely die

So help me out

Give me something to say

I could care less

‘Cause I don’t need an A

Lyrics are hard to come by

So I’ll tell it to you straight

Instead of telling you a lie

So if you were expecting this song

To be deep and meaningful

You were wrong

Now I’m making all this up

Improvising as I go

That’s the end of the song

That’s the end of the show

Short Story

                It’s impossible to say this without sounding arrogant, but people greeted my arrival in this world with much acclaim. Given that you’re an infinitely more impressive person than I, I should think yours was equally momentous.

                Does it sound melodramatic to say that I often feel like the world’s against us? That everyone, despite their espoused adoration of us, is secretly waiting to spring a trap upon us before we can accomplish anything of consequence? Does it sound pathetic that I’m often paralyzed by fear of the world, fear of time marching onward, fear of everything, and that maybe I think you’re part of the cause?

                I feel like I’m often wasting my time by trying. Success, failure… do they really matter in the long run? Does anyone care? Would they even bother to remember if anything of note did happen? It’s not like I’d have to do much to win back their vapid favor, anyway.

                Remember the other day? If you don’t I can’t blame you. In every objective measurement, it was the most average day that can possibly be experienced. But I remember it, if only because it showed me how magnificent humanity can be when it isn’t trying to be.  I’m not saying this blindly, either. Remember when you pointed to each person and tried to deduce what their biggest internal conflict was? How you pointed at the man who walked silently in front of a woman and said that he was her husband, and that he beat her, not physically but psychologically? Even if that was incorrect, it stayed with me. It’s the kind of insight only a person like you could have, even if it’s entirely wrong.

                Tell me, with your profound insight – what’s my flaw? I don’t mind if you guess. At least it’s a tentative step in any direction, instead of the monotonous standing-still that I’ve been doing.

                I like to reminisce about that day, mainly because it was the last day of sanity we shared together. It was the last time I could claim to have spent time with you and retained my sanity afterward. Or maybe the time before that was the last time, because after the other day, that’s when the insanity began. Insanity, of course, meaning the clash between my egomania and my self doubt.

                I hear you speak sometimes, and oftentimes I react without thinking. I do things I regret, but I can’t admit that. I try to express my admittance in any way I can, but I can’t just say it to you. I just cannot say it. I see myself in the mirror, I lay awake, I indulge in the most mindless activities, all in an attempt to assuage my frustrating inabilities.

                I look in the mirror yet again. I am incapable of seeing anything beyond myself.

                Is this reasonable? I suppose the better question is, am I reasonable? Is the way I am reacting on the whole reasonable? Am I truly experiencing these thoughts and events the way they should be experienced, or am I reacting poorly to the preconceived notions I have of what this experience should be?

                Nothing’s ever changed.

I need your companionship. I know that that’s a lot to ask at this time, but please, this is all I ask.

Song for Short Story: "What a Good Boy" - Barenaked Ladies

When I was born, they looked at me and said

what a good boy, what a smart boy, what a strong boy.

And when you were born, they looked at you and said,

what a good girl, what a smart girl, what a pretty girl.

We've got these chains that hang around our necks,

people want to strangle us with them before we take our first breath.

Afraid of change, afraid of staying the same,

when temptation calls, we just look away.

[Chorus]

This name is the hairshirt I wear,

and this hairshirt is woven from your brown hair.

This song is the cross that I bear,

bear it with me, bear with me, bear with me,

be with me tonight,

I know that it isn't right, but be with me tonight.

I go to school, I write exams,

if I pass, if I fail, if I drop out,

does anyone give a damn?

And if they do, they'll soon forget 'cause it won't take much for me

to show my life ain't over yet.

I wake up scared, I wake up strange.

I wake up wondering if anything in my life is ever going to change.

I wake up scared, I wake up strange

and everything around me stays the same.

[Chorus]

I couldn't tell you that I was wrong,

chickened out, grabbed a pen and paper, sat down and I wrote this song.

I couldn't tell you that you were right,

so instead I looked in the mirror,

watched TV, laid awake all night.

We've got these chains, hang 'round our necks,

people want to strangle us with them before we take our first breath.

Afraid of change, afraid of staying the same when temptation calls ...

[Chorus]

When I was born, they looked at me and said;

What a good boy, what a smart boy, what a strong boy.

And when you were born, they looked at you and said;

what a good girl, what a smart girl, what a pretty girl, hey

SA2: "The Bends"

Balancing introspective self-doubt to resigned acceptance, Radiohead’s “The Bends” employs metaphoric allusion, grimy objectification, and massive hyperbole in order to impart a feeling of loneliness and self-loathing.

                The allusion made throughout the song, and within the song’s very title, is to the Bends, medically known as decompression sickness. Decompression sickness is a painful affliction that most commonly affects scuba divers as they return to the surface. How this applies to the song’s meaning is not immediately obvious, but the term is used in multiple lines – “But who are my real friends?/Have they all got the bends?”; “My baby's got the bends, oh no/We don't have any real friends, no, no, no” – and seems to indicate the absence of someone/something important – according to the narrator, this seems to be his “friends”. One might imagine the narrator bobbing just above the surface of the water, anxiously waiting for the return of his companions. This is a more literal interpretation of the lyrics, but it is a literal interpretation that helps convey something abstract; in other words, the narrator finding himself confused and alone.

                The objectification of the narrator’s fears -“I need to wash myself again to hide all the dirt and pain/'Cause I'd be scared that there's nothing underneath” - indicates clearly the narrator’s deep sense of dissatisfaction with themselves. “Pain” is not something that can be washed away; “Dirt” can be, but it’s likely that the word refers to something more abstract than just grime. What’s more, the narrator’s fear that “there’s nothing underneath” indicates how entangled they are in their own weaknesses – they are dwelled upon so frequently, have become so integral to his being, that they have practically become a physical part of his body, even the primary part.

                The hyperbole of “The Bends” is most readily apparent in the third verse, with the lines “They brought in the CIA, the tanks and the whole Marines/to blow me away, to blow me sky high”. This massive exaggeration could be interpreted as an expression of how the narrator feels he is viewed by others. In short, the narrator believes himself to be so aggressively worthless, even hazardous, that the authorities want him to be wiped from the planet. Whether or not this is how the narrator is truly perceived by those around him, it speaks to his lack of self-confidence.

Lyrics:

Where do we go from here?

The words are coming out all weird

Where are you now, when I need you

Alone on an aeroplane

Fall asleep on against the window pane

My blood will thicken

I need to wash myself again to hide all the dirt and pain

'Cause I'd be scared that there's nothing underneath

But who are my real friends?

Have they all got the bends?

Am I really sinking this low?

My baby's got the bends, oh no

We don't have any real friends, no, no, no

Just lying in the bar with my drip feed on

Talking to my girlfriend, waiting for something to happen

I wish it was the sixties, I wish I could be happy

I wish, I wish, I wish that something would happen

Where do we go from here?

The planet is a gunboat in a sea of fear

And where are you?

They brought in the CIA, the tanks and the whole marines

To blow me away, to blow me sky high

My baby's got the bends

We don't have any real friends

Just lying in the bar with my drip feed on

Talking to my girlfriend, waiting for something to happen

I wish it was the sixties, I wish I could be happy

I wish, I wish, I wish that something would happen

I wanna live, breathe

I wanna be part of the human race

I wanna live, breathe

I wanna be part of the human race, race, race, race

Where do we go from here?

The words are coming out all weird

Where are you now when I need you?

Thesis/Analysis

Shifting from a questioning, perplexed tone to one of personal satisfaction and assuredness, Weezer’s “Buddy Holly” employs satirical diction, aesthetically based allusion, and juxtapositiional tone to express a reassuring sentiment regarding social rejection.

                In the opening verse, Weezer vocalist and lyricist Rivers Cuomo asks “What’s with these homies dissin’ my girl?/Why do they gotta front?”. The use of this particular variety of slang can be interpreted as a number of things. First and foremost, it gives the listener an idea of who is beleaguering the protagonist and his female acquaintance. Given the listener’s background knowledge of this particular variety of slang, and the context in which it is used, they can determine that Cuomo is being tormented by. Second (and less obvious), Cuomo’s use of this slang can be seen as indicative of the speaker; he is most likely using these terms sarcastically to illustrate his unpopularity.

                During the chorus, Cuomo claims that he “look[s] just like Buddy Holly”. The key to this lyric is the use of the word “look”; Cuomo is making an allusion strictly to the aesthetic qualities of Holly. There are numerous ways in which one could be compared to Buddy Holly (e.g., musically, in terms of legacy, etc.), but Cuomo opts for one used much more infrequently. This could be taken as intended to be reassuring (Cuomo taking solace in the fact that while his appearance is a frequent target for his tormentors, it is similar to that of an accomplished, well-regarded musician), or as brazen and defiant (Cuomo loudly accepts his physical attributes and shamelessly embraces them). Cuomo follows this with the lyric “And you’re Mary Tyler Moore”, which poses a far less specific comparison, but one that can be inferred to be of the same aesthetic nature as the previous lyric.

                The tone of “Buddy Holly” is defined by the juxtapositional shift found in both the music of the song and the lyrics. The verses express confusion and emotional hurt, both lyrically and sonically; the chorus suggests satisfaction and contentment. This is indicative of the narrator’s opinion of the situation; while he initially finds the adversity he and his companions face disheartening, he largely disregards it and decides to ignore it and live life accordingly. This, at its core, is the sentiment driving the entire song, and relates to its audience above all else.