Published on Jul 2, 1999
Pearl Jam’s demise from rock star status was cemented with
No Code. Considered to be a commercial bomb and even by some
fan standards, an artistic failure, the album sold about a third as
well as
Vitalogy and about an eighth as well as
Vs.
But true fans of bands usually marvel at the artistic bumps in
the road as much as they adore the most popular recordings. First
off,
No Code didn’t sink Pearl Jam. Something had to turn off the
millions of fans they had. And that album was
Vitalogy. Yes, it did have moments of brilliance, but it
also had oddities that scared many fans away. The beyond
avant-garde last track of
Vitalogy, where a young person contemplates suicide and the
accordian from hell track, “Bugs” isn’t the stuff that lures new
fans in.
Still shying away from publicity,
No Code is a glorious “fuck you” to any unified style. Much
of it feels like it was recorded while they were dueting with Neil
Young on their excellent
Mirror Ball CD.
Many good things can be said about
No Code. First off, it’s probably the most creative and
painstakingly packaged CDs to come out this decade. Honestly, how
many bands put their lyrics on the backs of friggin Polaroids?
Secondly, it’s probably the most “rockin'” CD that Pearl Jam have
released. Vedder is pissed, and it shows on tracks like “Red
Mosquito” and “Lukin.”
Of course, Vedder would just be a cranky, whiney soloist if it
wasn’t for the band. And if anyone steals the show on
No Code, it is the newest drummer of the band, the now
departed Jack Irons. His work with the Red Hot Chili Peppers
initially seemed out of place with Pearl Jam. But it in fact
loosened up their sound. Tracks like, “Hail Hail,” it sounds like
the snare and bass is hammering in your inner ear.
If Irons’ drumming sounds fresh and vital, the guitar work of
Mike McCready and Stone Gossard seem to have hit the coast mark on
No Code. With so many of the tracks having a classic rock
feel, it often sounds like the two were doing guitar licks in their
sleep at the recording. It’s hard to blame them when at the time
No Code was recorded, Vedder had pretty much a stranglehold
on the direction the band was taking.
The mix mash of classic rock anthems and pensive ballads sends
No Code on a train wreck course. It honestly sounds like the
band was throwing anything that was in their minds at the time to
the tape. Screw an editor, this is inspiration, dammit. For as
heartful as “Mankind” and “Smile” were, it just felt like
No Code was a B-sides compilation.
Still, only a band like Pearl Jam could make
No Code. It was a mess, but it was an inspired one. And it
was able to accomplish all of what Pearl Jam wanted: They breached
out and explored new sounds and they aliented the remaining
teeny-boppers who used to drool over Eddie Vedder’s tortured
persona. After
No Code, the band had far less pressure to record an
album.
No Code seems destined to join the ranks of “Metal Machine
Music” by Lou Reed, Tori Amos’
Boys For Pele and Prince’s
Come as self-indulgent failures. But true fans of the
artists see these bombs as necessary detours to get to a higher
level. The seeds the band planted on
Vitalogy and
No Code brought forth possibly their best album,
Yield. But these seeds were sewn with the help of Jack
Irons. Now, with Matt Cameron, it’s anybody’s guess where Pearl Jam
will go with their sound. True fans will no doubt tune in, all one
million of them.