Eddie (Vedder) Unabridged

Discussion in 'Music Corner' started by AKA, May 13, 2003.

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  1. AKA

    AKA Senior Member Thread Starter

    Eddie Unabridged

    Pearl Jam singer speaks out about Eminem, Kurt and George W.


    By David Fricke
    Rolling Stone

    Pearl Jam singer Eddie Vedder last spoke to Rolling Stone at length in the fall of 1993. Bill Clinton was in the White House, and George W. Bush was in baseball, a part-owner of the Texas Rangers and a year away from his first term as the state's governor. Seattle was the rock & roll capital of the world and Vedder was the unofficial -- and uncomfortable -- king of that world: the face and voice of a band that had just sold nearly a million copies of its second album, Vs., in its first week of release.

    Ten years later, Pearl Jam are still one of the world's biggest rock & roll bands. They have sold more than 26 million albums in their decade together; Vedder, guitarists Stone Gossard and Mike McCready, bassist Jeff Ament and drummer Matt Cameron also remain one of rock's mightiest live attractions, currently tearing through nightly two-and-a-half-hour shows on a three-month U.S. tour. But Bush is president; America is a nation transformed by terrorism, divided by war. And Vedder is a rock & roll target, a singing star and private citizen who has been publicly vilified for expressing his opposition to the war in Iraq and the Bush administration on stage.

    During a tour stop in New Orleans, fueled by coffee and cigarettes, Vedder spoke in detail about his adventures in free speech: particularly Pearl Jam's opening night in Denver on April 1st, when Vedder's theatrical ritual with a Bush mask and the song "Bu$hleaguer," from the recent Riot Act album, made national headlines and drew the irate holler of talk-show hawks. But the published results of our conversations, in RS 923, only hinted at the longer, wider ground covered: songwriting, Ticketmaster, the late Joe Strummer, Ralph Nader, Eminem, the state of Seattle, the advent of middle age, the future of Pearl Jam.

    This interview was ten years in the waiting. Here's more of Eddie on everything.

    When and how did you write "Bu$hleaguer"?

    That song was written back when we were still in Afghanistan. I use an old typewriter. When I walk into the studio, when we start a record, I have a FedEx envelope full of typed pages. I don't even remember what's on half of them. Then we play music, and I'll go through some sheets. Stone had a song -- he had the chorus, the part about the blackout ["Blackout weaves its way through the cities"]. It was during the energy crisis, the blackouts in California, and I just started going. The verses are real musical, really nice guitar, and I think they wanted it to be a song. They didn't want it to be ruined by some kind of spoken-word art piece [laughs].

    But you disabused them of that notion.

    It was the last day of a two-week stint in the studio, and I just wanted to get something down. So I threw it on there, and they got to listen to it for a couple of weeks. I think they started to get used to it. They still put in a request: "Can you try it one more time? Can you say the same stuff, but sing it?" They finally came around.

    "Bu$hleaguer" is, in its way, quite a funny song. You're definitely playing with him.

    I was pretty comfortable with the key points, the information in there. It was written with humor as well. And it's been out there since last November, when Riot Act came out. Then we played it in Japan and Australia. It's a dialogue: Rock music can be a really good forum. Whether people agree or disagree, you find out right there, that night. You can find out if they feel different in Florida than they do in Ohio, California or Italy -- just by putting it out there.

    In Denver, you also spoke about the war in Iraq early in the show, at which point someone in the audience yelled, "Shut up!"

    It was a woman from behind me [gestures over his shoulder, where the balcony at stage left would have been].

    Were you surprised that someone would actually tell you to shut up?

    No. Once you start going, that's the usual thing. You could be talking about the pope, and someone will tell you to shut up.

    Your immediate response, on stage, was much stronger than that. ["Did someone just say 'shut up?' I don't know if you heard about this thing called freedom of speech, man. It's worth thinking about, because it's going away . . . We're sure as hell going to use it, and I'm not gonna apologize."]

    It goes back to freedom of speech, and how it relates to rock & roll. I would hope that rock is not the last bastion of freedom of speech. But it should definitely be protected there, for sure. The one thing we don't want to happen -- we've been a band for twelve years. We think we're playing as good as we've ever played. We've already been through this thing, during the Ticketmaster fight [in the mid-1990s] where we would play these shows with blood and sweat, where we were building our own venues. And outside the show, it was just represented as anti-Ticketmaster, that it was just about ticket surcharges, and it wasn't about music.

    Even at this sensitive time, we're still a band. It's still about maintaining some focus on the music, not what the political dog-and-pony show is going to be tonight.

    Are you surprised by the conservatism of some people in your audience, considering that historically the music represents non-Republican values -- sex, drugs and mutiny?

    That myth got knocked down for me when I learned that Johnny Ramone was a hard-core Republican [laughs]. God love him. He's one of my best friends.

    Maybe "conservative" isn't the right word in talking about a lot of what's considered punk rock now. "Complacent" might be more appropriate.

    That's where it just becomes entertainment. And that's where I draw the line. Mike Watt [bassist, ex-Minutemen] has a different view. On his passport, where it says "occupation," he doesn't put "musician." He puts "entertainer." That's because he's secure in what he does.

    Are you insecure with the idea of being an entertainer?

    "Entertainer" becomes "celebrity." And I don't feel like a celebrity. I don't get on the cover of People. Joan Rivers doesn't talk about what I wear. We've been able to avoid celebrity status. We've done our thing under the radar. Maybe we were celebrities at one point, because we were on TV so much. But we thought, "Okay, if that's celebrity, we'll walk away." To us, it was a big hollow Easter Bunny.

    How did you feel about the money you were making?

    They say money is the root of all evil. I felt like, "This is unbelievable. You can do great things with money." Not only that, it gives you the power to say "No," to not do anything that you didn't want to do. The money could assist you in being more pure about your ideals, because you could afford to.

    What did you do with your first royalty check?

    I bought a house for my mom. [Pauses, then laughs]. I didn't! I wish I did. I'm still feeling guilty about that. I bought a new surfboard.

    It's a good question. I spent the rest of it, because it's not there. But I still drive my old truck from when I worked at a gas station: a 1989 Toyota, a little thing. It still works fine.

    But it wasn't just about the money we made. It was the money we chose not to make. Like keeping ticket prices low, and doing what we could in other ways to keep the live experience available to everyone.

    You spent a few years in the 1990s not touring America at all because you couldn't beat, or get around, Ticketmaster on the issue of ticket surcharges and service fees.

    It was a tough time. The main thing about that was it took away from the music and what we did. So we've definitely compromised.

    Do you feel defeated?

    Not defeated. It was a learning experience. If someone wants to shut you down, they can shut you down. There were so many issues -- base ticket prices, T-shirt percentages [from sales in the venues]. It was us saying, "This is what we'd like to charge. It means a little less for you, but we're taking less. Let's work together."

    The Justice Department came to us. They said, "What has your experience been with these guys? We're looking into them, because we feel there's a monopoly." We tried to get a coalition of the willing [laughs]. But we were left out there hanging. We ended up spending $80,000-$100,000, investigating their practices, defending ourselves. That's one of the things we did with our money.

    You were so committed to the Ticketmaster fight that, in the end, you may have alienated more fans than you gained, because you were off the road for so long.

    It could be true. But this was also following Kurt Cobain killing himself. [Long pause]. Nine years ago. [Shakes his head] We were in survival mode. We wanted to maintain the ability to keep playing music and making records. We had to pull back.

    This was back in the time when we were only giving ourselves a week or two off between tours, or two weeks off before we go in to record again. We just didn't know any better -- how important time off was. We were in a heavy work mode; we felt like that's what you do when you're in a band. I guess we were still establishing a strong base. But that doesn't mean you can't pull back. It's better than losing your life and relationships, or forgetting what it was like to do your own laundry -- just maintaining your grip on reality. It seems funny now, but at the time it was a real issue.

    Do you think that by backing Ralph Nader in the 2000 election, you helped give George W. Bush the presidency?

    It's easier to absolve ourselves of the guilt by reminding ourselves that Al Gore must have really been a horrible candidate: to not win as an incumbent candidate, after eight years of a positive economy; to not be able to win in his home state; to not beat someone with a record in his home state that was atrocious regarding the environment and the business deals he had done.

    Ralph's record of activism, everything he stood for, the fact that he is one of the last existing civic heroes: We don't have those anymore. They're not allowed. They're not salacious enough. At a time when it seems like there would be a call for that, they're hard to find. This was an opportunity to vote with your conscience, to not go for the lesser of two evils.

    Did you lobby the rest of the guys in Pearl Jam to vote for him?

    It started as my thing, and they supported me. They figured I was doing my homework. It was interesting -- one by one, they came around. But the first thing Ralph said was, "We are looking for money because we're not taking any soft money. We're not taking money from corporations. If there's something you can contribute, that would be great." I said, "Not only will I do it, I'll get everybody in the band to do it." Then I wrote a check, even before I made the phone calls. So I started getting calls: "I heard about this thing, I want to talk to you about it."

    As in, "Thanks for spending our money."

    They were really gracious [laughs].

    Did you try and get the band to play for Nader as well?

    No. Those rallies aren't set up for that. It's better just to show up with a guitar and harmonica. They thought I should carry the weight, which was fine. This was the campfire of truth -- this is where I saw the real stuff coming out. It was so head-and-shoulders above the other rhetoric -- it was easy to believe that you were absolutely doing the right thing. I still feel that way.

    People would say to me, "You know, Nader's not going to win." Hey, I grew up in Chicago -- I'm a Cubs fan. I'm used to this.

    I wanted to ask you about Joe Strummer. When he died last December, I heard that he had been scheduled to be one of your opening acts on this tour.

    We'd finally gotten the details worked out. He was going to be on the last leg. The Buzzcocks are now going to play. We'd asked [Strummer] previously; I think he was checking us out. He called Pete [Townshend]: "What do you think of this?" He didn't know us.

    It was the morning of my birthday [December 23rd] that I found out he died. It was the first call I got: "Oh, I'm so sorry." I thought, why? "Joe Strummer."

    Did you see the Clash back in the day?

    I saw them in a place called Golden Hall in San Diego. They gave me somewhere to go after the Who. I caught on to the Who pretty early. I was ten or eleven -- a babysitter brought Who's Next over. I spent four years of my youth just being into that group, going back to their early stuff, listening to everything in between.

    But the Clash -- their vibe was so heavy. They came out with a purpose. They were a scary band. I wonder if we -- Pearl Jam -- were ever scary. Because all the great bands are a little bit scary. I remember almost feeling uncomfortable with the Clash, that **** could happen. A revolution could start right here. There's going to be innocent bystanders hurt -- and that could be me.

    What do you think of Eminem? Is he scary enough for you?

    I appreciate the poetry in the lyrics. The way he phrases things is absolutely inspiring. I like when he gets informational stuff in there. And the song about the fan letter ["Stan"] -- I've been through that. Not to the point where the guy ends up in a ditch. But in the early days, I'd answer letters. They'd write back again. "I can't believe you wrote, that was the coolest thing." Then five letters would come while I was on tour, I'd see the fifth one, and it was like "****ing son of a bitch, you're just like all the rest. I thought you were cool, but **** you, you corporate whore." That's when I decided you couldn't keep up with that stuff. It was impossible.

    Pearl Jam have recorded and toured with Neil Young. What have you learned from him?

    One of the things I picked up from Neil was his writing. He was so aware of what you had to do to write the song when the spark came in. If something hits you, for just a split second, you stop everything, and you complete it. You don't just write it on a napkin and, when you have time, flesh it out. You capture that bit of mercury and solidify it right there. That explains how he can be so prolific.

    Which Pearl Jam songs can you trace directly to that lesson?

    "Thumbing My Way" [on Riot Act] was written real quick. There's something about writing real quickly that keeps the music in a nice pure state. You don't think of it as homework. You think, "Wow, that was a good half hour spent." There is a tangible joy about creating something that wasn't there before.

    Pearl Jam are the only major surviving band of the early-Nineties Seattle explosion. Who do you consider to be your working peers now?

    Our peers are mostly the folks and musicians in Seattle. Whether they're still playing in the bands they used to or not, they're still our friends: Kurt Bloch [the Fastbacks], Steve Turner [Mudhoney]; Scott McCaughey [the Young Fresh Fellows, Minus 5], Peter Buck [R.E.M.], who is now part of that community. We're grounded in Seattle. Anything that happens outside of that doesn't really affect us.

    Do you feel part of the music business? You make records. You tour.

    Apparently, we don't sell that many records anymore, so maybe we aren't. And now, literally, we aren't on a label. And there is no pressure to be on one.

    Riot Act was the last album under your contract with Epic Records.

    Yeah, so there's a sense of freedom right now, of looking into how we might be able to make music in ways that don't follow the usual formats: how records are released, the timing of things. Maybe we can record three songs and put them out in a weekend, in some way or form. It's exciting to be able to work outside the usual industry trenches. We haven't come up with any definitive plans. We're just starting to appreciate the freedom, and see where it can take us. It's something we have worked for. So what happens now -- whatever bad decisions are made in the future, they're ours to make.

    How would you describe the state of Pearl Jam now? Has the band lasted longer that you thought it would -- or should?

    In some ways, the time has gone quick. And if you look at it in terms of musicianship -- how satisfied we are with the music we've been making -- it's gone really quick. And the quality of material is still on the rise. Should we keep continuing? Absolutely. The engine is running clean and smooth, the oil's checked, the water's changed. Everyone is doing their part, understanding their roles.

    And the roles have expanded. Everyone brings in songs. At this point, Pearl Jam is a collective for anyone in the band to have their songs played. And we can record those songs in a day. So it seems like there is no reason to stop.

    The other night, I was watching Mike McCready play. I really feel he is one of the most underrated guitar players out there. He's been through the most in the group; he did fall into substance-abuse issues. He's had to combat them in two different rounds -- and he's come out so strong. He's the band's secret weapon. I don't know if people, who haven't seen us before, know how potent his guitar playing is.

    Watching Mike and Stone play, in contrast and combination, is a thrilling experience. Stone is like a guitar rudder, in terms of riffage and concentration. Add Jeff and Matt to the mix, and it's quite an amazing, durable combo you have there.

    We're still finding ways to broaden out: tightening up and broadening out at the same time. When we knew we were going to tour a bit on Riot Act, we weren't just going to go out and play songs: "Let's see what we can do here, to keep pushing it."

    That's another thing we've learned from Neil -- always push things. We went and saw Neil on one of his last tours. He had [bassist] Duck Dunn and [drummer] Jim Keltner. Jeff and I talked to them, and Jeff said, "It was really in the pocket for some of those songs, in the straight groove." And they said, "No, no, no, don't say that. Neil doesn't want it locked in. He's trying to push it around."

    Neil's always pushing the music, pulling it, shoving it. We haven't gotten there yet. But I imagine that's where we're going to end up.

    You turned thirty-eight in December. You're now looking at forty, the same milestone many of your peers and heroes had to face: Neil, Pete Townshend, Bruce Springsteen. They all had to hit that wall, as musicians and songwriters, and find a way over it. Are you ready for that?

    I feel like our audience has grown up with us. And some of the issues we talk about now -- the core of our faithful are probably going through a lot of the same stuff. Whether the newcomers or younger fans pick up on that, I don't know. There's a song on Who by Numbers that goes, "How many friends have you really got?" ["How Many Friends"]. That was written from a famous guy's perspective. Yet I was relating to that record completely when I was fifteen. I don't know at what age Pete wrote Quadrophenia -- pre-forty, I'm sure -- but he was focused succinctly on teenage angst. I don't think you can do it much better than that.

    I could see playing ukulele songs and acoustic guitar and somehow growing old and understanding my limitations, and not feel like I have to jump around at a certain age -- although surfing will hopefully keep me fit.

    But I'm amazed at the length of the band. It feels just like life. The thing about turning forty -- it's about halfway through life. So we're just halfway through.

    (May 7, 2003)
     
  2. AKA

    AKA Senior Member Thread Starter

    Bumpage.
     
  3. JWB

    JWB New Member

    Have you guys been following the ******** news reports in the media?

    I think it's pretty pathetic...the way the media is looking for anti-patriotic stories to exploit.

    There is a new Pearl Jam song called "Bu$hleaguer".

    It isn't an anti-war song, it just a song about George Bush.

    When they perform it, Eddie Vedder will put on a Bush mask and dance around. When it comes time to sing, he will take off the mask and hang it on the microphone stand. Later he walks up to it, dances with it and french kisses it.

    The first time they did this in America, there were no problems. One rude member of the audience yelled at Vedder to shut up during a speech, after which the audience booed at this person. When they played "Bu$hleaguer", a few angry people got up and left. A few angry people vs. a stadium full of people.

    This is how the press reported the concert:

    "Vedder impales Bush mask, audience boos, people storm out"

    And most people believed this fake story.

    So, they played the song again in Nashville with no problems.

    Then the third time they played it, in New York, the audience went into a frenzy and began throwing things and booing.

    So now the press are having a field day again.

    It never even would have happened if not for the first, erroneous news report and a hyper-patriotic New York crowd.

    What do you guys think?
     
  4. floyd

    floyd Senior Member

    Location:
    Spring Green, WI
    Thanks for the article. It is strange that people get so upset at other people exersizing their first amendment right
     
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