‘When you’re happy, you enjoy the music, but when you’re sad, you understand the lyrics.’
– Frank Ocean
I remember lying in my bed in 1991 as an angst ridden teenager listening to Pearl Jam’s debut album ‘Ten’. As the band’s music and lead singer Eddie Vedder’s voice tore through my headphones, I pored over the handwritten liner notes- struck by the intensity of my connection to the words. Like tens of thousands of teenagers and twenty somethings around the world, I wouldn’t say I felt happy, but I suddenly felt less alone in my sadness.
In August of 2018- 27 years and many personal highs and lows after I first listened to Pearl Jam, my wife and I attended a concert at SafeCo Stadium in the band’s hometown of Seattle; for a Pearl Jam fan, seeing the band in Seattle is a bucket list experience. While I am thankful for many things in my life, I have found myself struggling with the practicalities and realities of living as a husband, a father, and in all honesty, as an adult. I approached this show having just been laid off from my job and dealing with all of the uncertainty that comes with that.
Some people believe chicken soup is good for the soul, but my soul prefers Pearl Jam. I couldn’t have been more excited about the concert and, as usual, the band delivered. The show was everything I, and the other 40,000 fans, needed it to be. While the crowd did include some younger attendees, the majority of the people were late 30 and 40 somethings like me who could probably share a Pearl Jam story from their youth similar to mine.
As the band ripped through over 30 songs from every period of their 25+ years together, people sang, danced, screamed, high fived strangers, hugged and kissed partners, fist-pumped friends, and yes, even cried. Everyone in that stadium had bills to pay, everyone knew someone dealing with a health issue, everyone had relationships to navigate, and everyone had thoughts that kept them up at night, but for those three hours at least, everyone knew that every little thing was going to be alright.
At about 11:30 PM and already three songs into the second encore the unmistakable opening guitar riff of Alive sent a renewed level of excitement through the stadium. At the same time, the lights also went on- serving two purposes, 1.) sending the signal that the concert was going to be over soon and 2.) allowing 40,000 people to see each other going absolutely bonkers.
The best way I can describe the dynamic between Pearl Jam and its fans during a live performance of Alive is to equate it to the relationship between a preacher and his congregants at a mega-church. There is a call and response interaction between Eddie Vedder and the crowd that includes repeated declarations of ‘Yeah, Yeah, Yeah’ and synchronized upward pumps of the arm; it may not seem like much as you read this, but if you can picture bright lights shining on 40,000 people doing the same thing and chanting the same words you’ll catch the feeling.
Instead of repeating the original chorus of ‘I’m Still Alive’ throughout the entire song, in recent years, Eddie Vedder has made a habit of exhorting the crowd to sing the words ‘We’re All Still Alive’ along with him. For many Pearl Jam fans, there is something defiantly triumphant about this experience- as if we are simultaneously proud and somewhat surprised that we are all indeed still alive.
As I chanted and fist pumped away, I scanned the stadium- delighting in the connection I was sharing with all of these strangers; at one point as I looked around, my eyes settled upon the stadium’s big screen. On it, I saw an image of a man holding up a sign that read ‘Alive Saved My Life’. It gave me chills. And I believe the same goes for the majority of the people in the crowd that night.
My favorite songs and lyrics have ‘saved’ my life. They have kept me company through its darkest nights and they have pumped extra joy into its brightest days. I believe many music lovers feel the same way. I want to talk with them about the songs and lyrics that have saved their lives, discuss the stories behind the songs and lyrics, and ultimately use music discussions to help people connect, heal, and thrive.
I started out this piece by referencing the poetic lyrics on Pearl Jam’s album, Ten, so it seems fitting to come full circle and close it out with one of them.
‘Can you see me now?
I am myself Like you, somehow
I’ll wait up in the dark For you to speak to me I’ll open up
Release me.’