After two low-key albums to close out the 90s, Pearl Jam roared back to life with Binaural.
The band's 1999 remake of the oldie “Last Kiss” had inexplicably scaled the charts, which pissed off longtime fans of the band who wanted the real stuff to make it to the radio. Not that Pearl Jam would have fit in on modern rock radio next to Kid Rock or Limp Bizkit, nor was there a place next to Britney Spears and Ricky Martin on Top 40.
But screw it. This is a band that does it their way, always have, always will. And now former Soundgarden drummer Matt Cameron was on board, the fourth and final drummer for the group (actually, he was the sit-in guy until Dave Krusen was recruited in 1990, but that's neither here nor there).
The band comes charging out of the gate with three three-minute slabs of hard punk-inspired rock, the best opening punch since Vs. "Breakerfall," "God's Dice" and "Evacuation" aren't necessarily great songs in and of themselves, but the sheer exuberance is welcome after the rather downcast Yield. "Breakerfall," actually, should be singled out for its snarl and drum break.The single here was “Light Years,” but it shouldn't have been, because the song never really goes anywhere, ambling along for five minutes along Eddie Vedder's usual husky vocals. Lyrically, however, Vedder is alive: “Back pages and days alone that could have been spent together / But we were miles apart / Every inch between us becomes light years now.” Wrapped around a better song, it could have been gold.
Things get interesting with “Nothing As It Seems,” which features a strummed acoustic and some ethereal electric picking over a throbbing bass line. Vedder sways in with some soul-searching words and a hushed, smoky vocal to boot, while the electric quietly punctuates the acoustic with reverb-drenched fills. When Cameron finally comes in, the track becomes a smoldering volcano, and the effortless psychedelia of it all puts the Stone Temple Pilots' entire Shangri-La Dee Da album to shame. Best of all? Bassist Jeff Ament wrote it.
And those are just the first five songs. The second half of the disc is given over to the experimentation and quiet introspection of No Code, and it tends to kill the momentum a bit. “Thin Air” and “Of The Girl” are pleasant but not groundbreaking, although the latter has some folky guitar picking and a rather heavy vibe, a lot like Neil Young. “Grievance” is awkward and choppy, trying too hard to be punk, while “Rival” goes for that edgy attitude of Vitalogy but only marginally succeeds.
“Parting Ways” is the obligatory closing slow song (followed, naturally, by some throwaway bonus noise) and “Soon Forget" is the obligatory social conscience song. The weapon is Vedder and a mandolin, the target is rich CEOs and politicians who live for money and screwing everyone else, and the lyrics are fine: “Counts his money every morning / The only thing that keeps him horny / Locked in a giant house, that's alarming / The townsfolk, they all laugh / Sorry is the fool who trades his love for hi-rise rent / Seems the more you make equals the loneliness you get.”
There is always a fantastic track buried in the second half of any Pearl Jam disc, and this one's is “Insignificance,” which starts off slowly with some great Cameron drumming and then without warning erupts in a haze of guitars and ferocity. The band builds and builds in the chorus and then slowly fades back to the verse. If you don't get it the first time, give it a couple spins and let it build.
The same could be said for Binaural -- the band finally is rocking again thanks to Matt Cameron, and the best of this disc makes it a worthwhile purchase for Pearl Jam fans. Those who don't know the band are better advised to start elsewhere and work forward. It's the best since Vitalogy but the mundane tracks keep it from being an equal.