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Sep. 21st, 2000 09:01 amWhat the hell happened to Pearl Jam? Their Ten album was my favorite Seattle grunge CD, even better than Nirvana. But I haven't heard anything good from Pearl Jam since then. I can understand a band's sophomore slump -- it's hard to put out a quality album after a first success. After all, they've probably been tweaking and revising those first songs in front of live audiences for years before a record exec gave them a deal. Then they're supposed to put out something of equal or greater quality less than a year later, after being on tour for most of the time. But come on, guys, it's been years since Ten was released...stop with the experimentation and go back to raw emotion.
Pearl Jam trivia -- I saw them at Lollapallooza in Miami on my 27th birthday, right after their good album. I went out of my way to get tickets that day (another impulse -- I decided to go on the spur of the moment) and when I got to the gate, there was so many people, they were letting them in without checking for tickets. It was a beautiful August day, no wind, nice and sunny without being overly sweaty, low humidity, the smell of the Atlantic a few blocks away. The next day, I was evacuating as Hurricaine Andrew pounced on South Florida. My apartment was in an evacuation zone, and since this would be my fifth hurricaine, and stronger that the last two combined, I bugged out. I headed for Orlando, where my folks lived at the time, about as inland as you can get in Florida. What was normally a three hour drive took eight. At one point, traffic was crawling at less than five MPH. A half hour later, I passed a burnt-out Trans Am. The tires were slag, the paint had bubbled off, but it had been out for a while. The traffic picked back up to 40 MPH. Only in Florida would people stop to rubberneck at a car that wasn't even still on fire, while running for their lives away from the worst hurricaine in American history.
Pearl Jam trivia -- I saw them at Lollapallooza in Miami on my 27th birthday, right after their good album. I went out of my way to get tickets that day (another impulse -- I decided to go on the spur of the moment) and when I got to the gate, there was so many people, they were letting them in without checking for tickets. It was a beautiful August day, no wind, nice and sunny without being overly sweaty, low humidity, the smell of the Atlantic a few blocks away. The next day, I was evacuating as Hurricaine Andrew pounced on South Florida. My apartment was in an evacuation zone, and since this would be my fifth hurricaine, and stronger that the last two combined, I bugged out. I headed for Orlando, where my folks lived at the time, about as inland as you can get in Florida. What was normally a three hour drive took eight. At one point, traffic was crawling at less than five MPH. A half hour later, I passed a burnt-out Trans Am. The tires were slag, the paint had bubbled off, but it had been out for a while. The traffic picked back up to 40 MPH. Only in Florida would people stop to rubberneck at a car that wasn't even still on fire, while running for their lives away from the worst hurricaine in American history.
