“Vitalogy”, when rock was a matter of life and death
Thirty years ago, on December 6, 1994, i Pearl Jam released their third album on CD (it was released on vinyl on November 22nd), “Vitalogy”. In the album review he wrote for us in 2017 Claudio Todesco says: “Listening to it again more than twenty years after its publication means being catapulted into a world that no longer exists, it means reconnecting to a period in the history of rock in which music was taken damn seriously. As a question of life and death.”
“See this needle / See my hand / Drop, drop, dropping it down / Oh so gently”. In the ’90s, no one explained the ritual associated with listening to vinyl better than Pearl Jam. In the single “Spin the black circle” they transfigure it into an action comparable to that of injecting a drug into a vein. It’s 1994 and Pearl Jam are among the last defenders of the vinyl record which for some years has been largely overtaken by the more practical and “cleaner” compact disc. Every year they send their fans a 45 rpm single containing unreleased songs or performances, they release the album “Vitalogy”, the most anticipated of the year on the American market, first on vinyl and only after two weeks on CD. To print it in a special format, with the golden writing of the title and the lyric booklet that reproduces a book from the late nineteenth century, they give up 30-40% of their royalties. Also thanks to them, the vinyl record becomes synonymous with the care and attention that an artist puts into the presentation of his music. In addition to being a great rock album, “Vitalogy” is the symbol of this type of devotion.
It is November 1994 and a writing on the packaging of the single “Spin the black circle” announces the arrival of Pearl Jam’s third album entitled “Life”. Life is Eddie Vedder’s shaky one. It is a tormented period, which endangers the very existence of Pearl Jam, between guitarist Mike McCready’s drug and alcohol problems and the disagreement with drummer Dave Abbruzzese. Vedder feels guilty for the success achieved, he hates the world into which he was suddenly projected, he consciously sabotages the popularity of the group by pushing it towards harder and more bizarre sounds. He refuses to shoot videos and give interviews. “Vitalogy” is first and foremost his album, the one in which he exposes his fragility, in which he offers an x-ray of his torments. When he finds an old pseudo-medicine book called “Vitalogy” in a flea market, a manual of advice for healthy living full of false beliefs and moralisms, Vedder chooses it as the title of the album and reproduces some passages and illustrations in the booklet of 33 rpm and CD combining them with personal photos, an image of his wife as a child, an x-ray.
“Vitalogy” sings about illness and sings about death. And perhaps less explicitly, he also sings of the leap towards life that will save Vedder and the band. It begins with the dry drum sound of a song called “Last exit” and ends ideally with “Immortality” (which is actually followed by the jam “Hey Foxymophandlemama, that’s me”). Eight months before the album’s release, Kurt Cobain killed himself in the outbuilding of his mansion on Lake Washington, Seattle. It is easy to glimpse indirect references to the drama in certain passages of “Immortality”, especially in the part about the “cigar box on the floor”, such as the one containing syringes for injecting heroin found next to Cobain’s body. Accompanied by a sort of white and funereal shuffle, Vedder sings what it feels like to feel “privileged like whores” and “victims who are asked to give a public spectacle”. It’s one of the moments in the album where you’re not overwhelmed by the band’s sound, but you’re left holding your breath.
Between “Last exit” and “Immortality” there are eleven other pieces, some of which try to tell what it means to lead the obscene life of rock whores, without having asked.
In “Not for you”, which will be released as a single, Vedder angrily screams that his table is too small to accommodate greedy record companies and cumbersome media and that everything sacred comes from youth. “Pry, to” is a short, vaguely funk fragment in which the singer spells the word privacy. “Corduroy” will become a live classic, the emotionally charged tale of a man who feels cheated of his identity and private life, a man who cries that “I would rather starve than eat your bread.” The band and producer Brendan O’Brien enjoy inserting fragments like “Bugs” or “Aye Davanita” between the songs, which seem designed to displace casual listeners and which create a strong contrast with beautiful melodies like those of “Nothingman ” and “Better man”, the latter coming from the repertoire of Vedder’s old group, Bad Radio.
When “Vitalogy” was released, Pearl Jam was the most popular rock band on the planet. The album sells like Taylor Swift’s or Adele’s records sell today: 877,000 copies in a week and in the United States alone. In the end, the copies sold will be fewer than the previous two albums: “Vitalogy” is too strange and harsh, hiding ballads and melodic songs amidst repelling sound collages and ulcerating riffs. It remains a splendid anomaly in Pearl Jam’s history, their most visceral album full of emotional turmoil, with sounds and lyrics balanced between harshness and poetry. Listening to it again more than twenty years after its release means being catapulted into a world that no longer exists, it means reconnecting to a period in the history of rock in which music was taken damn seriously. As a matter of life and death.
