Album Review: Pearl Jam – 'Gigaton'
Nearly three decades on from their monstrous debut album, Ten, Seattle grungers Pearl Jam remain just as relevant now, as they ever have been. For a band who grew up in a scene that was pivotal for a generation, and where many of their peers have been critically hit with hardships, it is somewhat of a mystery how they have remained – mostly – unscathed. Fast-forward to an entirely new decade where everything feels like it’s hanging on by a thread, and Pearl Jam have released a body of work which is a statement of observation throughout the discourse.
Gigaton opens with that familiar hammering of guitar and toe-tapping drum beat which is trademark Pearl Jam. Eddie Vedder’s vocals are inflected with an air of passivity as he rumbles through the act of his freedom being taken away, in ‘Who Ever Said’. This serves as a kind of theme throughout the album which is contemplative and socio-political. It’s ever-present in the world that there are higher powers who do not have your best interests at heart, often using the downfall of others for their own personal gain, and sometimes you need to push your emotions aside to be able to make a change.
Summed up perfectly in the rallying cry of togetherness in ‘Seven O’Clock’ – “Moved on from my despondency and left it in the bed / Do I leave it there sleeping or maybe kill it better yet / For this is no time for depression or self-indulgent hesitance / This fucked-up situation calls for all hands, hands on deck.” There’s a huge element of defiance that is riddled throughout the lyricism, from the cry of “I won’t be taken / Won’t take myself” in ‘Never Destination’ and the supporting words of: “Firstly do no harm / then put your seatbelt on” in the darkly melodic “Buckle Up”.
Let it be said that Gigaton isn’t all doom and gloom. What Pearl Jam excel at, is feel-good catchy riffs and ‘Superblood Wolfmoon’ echoes ‘Lightning Bolt’ with its incessant driven mood and ode to the classic ‘80s guitar solo. Continuing on this theme, but pushing more into the rolling bass riffs of the ‘90s is ‘Quick Escape’ which showcases the weight of instrumentation. Its predecessor ‘Dance Of The Clairvoyants’ sees Pearl Jam outdoing themselves with a kind of electro-grunge symphony that is doused in funky flickers of the guitar strings. Vedder’s vocals take on a David Byrne quality, and towards the end of the song, the whole thing morphs into a kind of bastard child between The Talking Heads and Pearl Jam.
Pearl Jam show no signs of stopping, 29 years in, and if the world holds up for a few more years then who knows how far they’ll be able to go.
Words by Tyler Damara Kelly