Clint Brownlee

If the enigmatic Andrew Wood hadn’t died on this day in 1990, Seattle’s world-dominating grunge phenomenon, ironically, might not have been so big. The Malfunkshun and Mother Love Bone frontman’s latter, glam-leaning band was poised for stardom when he passed—at a time when the sound that would define a generation was still defining itself. Check them out.

 

 

Had he lived, there would have been no Temple of the Dog (formed by MLB members and Soundgarden’s Chris Cornell). There would have been no Pearl Jam (formed by MLB members and a San Diego gas station attendant named Eddie Vedder). Grunge “fashion,” if it came to exist, might have meant loud colors and white face paint.

And everyone who knew Andy or knows of him would trade all that rose from his void for the living man himself.

As you raise your glass this Friday night, toast the Man of Golden Words. Not that he’ll hear; he’s having too much fun romping around Olympus.

Yep, Pearl Jam performed two Backspacer songs—one soft, one hard—on this weekend's Saturday Night Live. But the band’s most memorable appearance didn't involve music at all...unless you count the eerie Twilight Zone theme.

---

The jump-and-getcha parody (riffing on an original episode starring William Shatner, more creepily executed in the 1983 film) was the non-Jerry Seinfeld highlight of the show. Even those who don't care for Pearl Jam (ears burning, Michael Buble fans?) have to laugh at that random silliness. Sadly for Jude Law, there wasn't much more to chuckle about in this episode.

Here's PJ performing "Just Breathe":

And "Unthought Known":

Live from New York, it's another Saturday night with Pearl Jam. Tune into Saturday Night Live this evening to see Jude Law play funny and Seattle’s reigning rock band play two tunes from their latest album, Backspacer. Giddily retweeted clues suggest Pearl Jam will play the gorgeous "Just Breathe" and chunky-riffed "Force Of Nature." (Wouldn't it be cool, though, if they surprised everyone with a cut from the forthcoming—probably—Backspacer-session EP?) Cross your fingers for a skit that has the real Eddie Vedder trading verses with Bill Hader's EV.

---

---

Pearl Jam will return to New York City in May to wrap a just-announced 11-stop tour with two nights (5/20 and 5/21) at Madison Square Garden. (Local fave Band of Horses opens for the first nine shows; the Black Keys will support PJ in NYC.) Sorry Seattle, this tour is solely for Midwest and East Coast fans. (I sympathize with this geographically unfortunate fan: "Pearl Jam are the hot girls in high school. They never come anywhere near me.") Maybe those of us who can't make the trip will get another excellent concert DVD out of the deal.

The band's Ten Club members already know about Monday's ticket pre-sales. The less-avid general public gets in on it March 19 (Columbus, Noblesville, Hartford, Boston, Bristow) and March 20 (Kansas City, St. Louis, Cleveland, New York). The May 18 gig, sandwiched between Boston's Garden and MSG, is TBD. No word on ticket prices, but does that really matter?

What time Mark Pickerel hasn't spent behind drum kits and guitars, he's put in behind counters and cash registers. The former Screaming Trees and Truly drummer and current Praying Hands frontman and musician-about-town owned and ran Ellensburg's Rodeo Records from 1991 to 2005. After a five-year break, he's splitting stage and retail time again as the co-owner and well-coiffed face of Belltown's Damaged Goods. Days ahead of a Facebook-fueled grand opening of sorts—which featured free beer, wine, homemade margaritas, and a shopful of old-school scenesters and new-school browsers—I spoke with Pickerel about his new venture, its future, and what it means for his other career.

So what brought you back to retail?
When I closed Rodeo Records, I was frustrated with the current state of music retail, but I hadn't given up on it entirely. So some friends of mine who just moved here from Los Angeles mentioned that they were interested in finding a space to open up a gallery. They wondered if I might be interested in running retail space out of the same spot, in the hope that I would attract some foot traffic and generate interest in the place. It just happened to coincide with me needing some income—I became a stay at home dad a couple of years ago, and I'd found it more and more difficult to make a living as a musician while being distracted with my daughter most days of the week. [Laughs] They found this gallery space right next to Roq La Rue, which is one of my favorite galleries. We met with the building manager the next day. So literally within 24 hours of imagining getting back into retail, I confirmed that we'd be moving in by January 1.

---

---

And you needed stuff to sell....
Right. I still had a lot of old stock in storage out in Ellensburg, and I had less than a month to try and dust it off, call up the old distributors, approach some friends about consigning things here. I decided I wasn't going to take out any loans—I'm still paying off some debt from Rodeo—and that I would build this off of what I already owned, my friends' collections, and through relationships with labels. So that's what you've got.

How will you keep the place stocked?
I don't want to be burdened by the pressure of being an A-Z record shop, trying to cater to everyone's needs. Any new buying I do will reflect my own interests and passions. I'm not going to bring in 80 or 100 new releases every Tuesday like most stores do. I'm going to keep my eye out for releases that I find relevant and exciting. We're also going to have an emphasis on box sets and limited-edition releases. Where most stores treat box sets as a nuisance—they end up on a top shelf covered with dust, and when you reach for one, you knock another over—we're going to make them the focal point of the shop. We'll be more like a music gift shop.

What reflects your interests?
We just brought in the new Spoon vinyl, the new Vampire Weekend LP, Pearl Jam's new vinyl, all the Light in the Attic releases. And every time there's a new Art Walk—every second Friday—I'll try to curate a section of the store that highlights a specific record label. Or I might pick a specific genre, city, and time. Like New York City from '68 to '78. Have a whole section of the shop devoted to everything from my favorite music from those years to biographies of artists and musicians who were so important, to all the vintage clothes that I can find from that time. I want to reflect a period of time in music, fashion, literature, art, everything. You'll already see evidence of that starting to happen. A silly example is a Farah Fawcett puzzle next to a pair of vintage Farah jeans with the "Farah fits" tags on it. And that's alongside some music from the 70s—a soul-jazz box set called "Can You Dig It" and Bette Davis CDs. We're kind of showcasing an entire lifestyle here.

Eventually we're going to do legitimate art walk openings. I already have Jon Langford confirmed for an opening and appearance. I think we're going to continue to show his work. Kind of like the arrangement he has with the Yard Dog gallery in Austin. We're going to try be a second home for his artwork annually, because it fits in aesthetically with a lot of the imagery I like. I think it would enhance the identity that we already have here, give us a little extra notoriety.

Will your personal music history influence the shop?
Yeah. I'm making a conscious effort to buy Seattle-centric music that both reflects my own career and the artists that Seattle has come to be known for: Nirvana, Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, Mudhoney, Screaming Trees. I know that's going to be expected of me and I certainly want to accommodate that. But I don't want it to be the only thing we're known for. Frankly, my interests are much broader than that and I'd get bored if we just turned into a grunge tourist trap. I'm as interested in carrying Nina Simone, synth pop, Moog vinyl, reggae, pub rock... And we've tried to make the genre cards a little more fun: "Devil Worshippers," which includes all the obvious acts. Our comedy section is called "LOL." We have a huge "Hippies Use Back Door" section with everything from the Youngbloods to early Steve Miller. And everyone's favorite card is "Something Recent That's Actually Good." [Laughs]

It seems you're doing all your PR via Facebook.
I noticed it was very valuable in the promotion of my shows as a musician. It quickly became more effective than Myspace or flyering the city or paying for ads. When you post a show on Facebook and invite 1000 local friends and 100 RSVP, that's the best bang for the buck that I can think of considering you don't actually pay for it. And I only invite friends that are in the city and that I think are interested in a particular event. So when we're doing certain events, I'll only invite people who I think will enjoy or benefit from it.

All this obviously requires a lot of time and effort.
I hope that I have time to actually do it all. I did it before in Ellensburg. I went touring with Neko Case for a month at a time, then watched the shop during holidays. I'm not doing that much touring right now, but if the opportunity comes along to tour as Mark Pickerel & His Praying Hands or with the Tripwires, I'll cross that bridge when it comes along. Sometimes my pursuits benefit each other. There were times at Rodeo Records when I'd come back from a tour inspired with fresh ideas that I'd picked up in New York City or Paris or some hillbilly town in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes touring can lead to great acquisitions.

What's on your music plate in the near future?
I admit, I haven't taken my guitar out of its case for six or eight weeks. But I do have some recordings that are being mixed as we speak. The Praying Hands just finished up some tracks at Ian Moore's home studio. I'm really happy with the results. I'm hoping to have a CD and maybe a 12" EP out before summer. Hopefully we'll play some shows to coincide with that.

Wasn't there a Truly reunion in the works?
We actually went to Spain last year for this incredible festival. It was the Sonics, the Sex Pistols, Ray Davies, the Gutter Twins, Los Lobos. We played to a few thousand people, and hundreds of kids at the front were singing along with these songs. I had no idea they'd made an impression on a new generation over there. It was incredible. We're actually halfway through a new recording, with the intention of releasing a full-length within the next year. There could be more touring, and definitely local shows within the year. All of us have other projects, pursuits, and families, so we're not approaching it with a huge marketing scheme. [Laughs] We'll just see where it goes.

Visit Mark Pickerel's Damaged Goods at 2316 2nd Ave. You never know what you'll find. (Rare Soundgarden vinyl? Check. Old movie posters? Yep. Early Sub Pop releases? Cool art? Funky fashion? Uh huh.)

I told you before. And I'm telling you again: If there's an actor alive today who exudes all the emotional turmoil, confounding complexity, and mystic depth that was Kurt Cobain, it is the tween magnet who did those all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world high school movies.

Can Zac Efron sing? Check. (Could Cobain? Discuss.)

Can Efron play guitar? Doesn't really matter.

Can he rock a rock tee and jeans? You decide.

Can he brood? Mask pain with a sarcastic grin?

That's the real question. Can Efron—or anyone else with or without a SAG card—convey soul-deep doubt, desperate ambition, seething anger, and instant likability with a twitch of his mouth? A glacier-cool, sidelong look at the camera?

---

Hollywood's creative/financial minds are now seriously noodling this question, because a long-in-the-works Cobain biopic is finally moving forward. Based partially on Charles Cross' Heavier Than Heaven, a David Benioff-penned script is now in the hands of The Messenger director Oren Moverman. (Courtney Love's producer credit has not doomed the flick to straight-to-DVD obscurity. Yay!)

---

This is good. Moverman's co-written Messenger screenplay has landed an Oscar nom. He also co-wrote the lauded Bob Dylan love letter I'm Not There, so he knows how to respectfully portray a revered artist on film. (Aside: I'm Not There sucked for anyone not intimately educated on Dylan's oeuvre. A similar treatment of Cobain's life and work could prove equally sucky—even for the hardiest of Nirvana fans.)

Moverman's association with Ben Foster—that dude who does crazy so well—puts the actor in obvious contention for the Cobain role. He's no talent powerhouse like Efron, but he can certainly brood.

My suggestion to Hollywood: Go with a nobody. Anyone we recognize—anyone whose abs make the girls swoon—will not be able to disappear into the role, to become Kurt Cobain.

Or, go with Joe Anderson. Compared to Brad Pitt, he's a nobody. He can sing (Across the Universe). He's the right age. And holy shit he looks just like Kurt. He's even done a movie called The 27 Club. Whoa. Cue the Twilight Zone music.

Somehow, Alice in Chains never quite got its due. Of the "Big Four" bands to rise from Seattle's phenomenal grunge era, the more metal-leaning AIC sold millions of albums and scored multiple music award noms but didn't reach the success stratosphere of Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, or Nirvana. Perhaps the band's addiction-informed lyrics made Alice in Chains less accessible. Maybe its beautifully schizophrenic acoustic-electric album jumps (Dirt to Sap; Jar of Flies to Alice in Chains) threw people off. Or maybe the AIC guys just didn't have the extra luck that comes with looks; Cobain, Cornell, and Vedder each radiated virile creative darkness, while Jerry Cantrell and Layne Staley, Alice's pale, blonde harmonizing frontmen, seemed more distant and pitiable.

---

Drug addiction, which pervaded AIC's most successful release, Dirt, eventually put the band on the shelf. Staley, a fading presence after Dirt hit in 1992, succumbed to the disease ten years later. Ironically, by that time Alice in Chains had outlasted Nirvana and Soundgarden and witnessed Pearl Jam's members recoil from their success—without playing shows or recording a studio record after 1995. But Cantrell, drummer Sean Kinney, and bassist Mike Inez refused to officially disband.

When the group issued Black Gives Way To Blue last September—with vocalist-guitarist William DuVall assuming Staley's role—and played the Paramount last Thursday and Friday, we were reminded why: Alice in Chains is too good to stop making music.

---

Both nights of AIC's Seattle homecoming began with Belgium's hard, endearingly odd fuzz-rock act Creature With The Atom Brain. The quartet's heavy riffs (courtesy of Aldo Struyf and Michiel Van Cleuvenbergen) and I-beam sturdy rhythms (Dave Schroyen on drums, Jan Wygers on bass) had a sizable floor crowd bobbing its collective head throughout their sets. Unfortunately, the yawning Paramount swallowed vocalist Struyf's lyrics, muffling pretty much every word. Though the theater softened Creature's edges, it was easy to imagine the group articulately tearing the roof off of a smaller venue (El Corazon or Neumos, maybe?). The band's streaming tunes support that theory. (Cool side-note: Both of Creature's albums feature vocals by Ellensburg's own lovely-voiced Mark Lanegan.)

Each night following Creature's half hour set, the lights went down along with a shimmering curtain hung at the foot of the stage. And the crowd threw up a sea of devil horns and roared. When giant shadow-images of the band appeared on the curtain and the first heavy guitar chords shot through the place, the roaring doubled in decibels.

Though both nights' sets featured multiple songs from Black Gives Way, it was Dirt that had more fans banging their heads and singing along. AIC played "Them Bones," "Dam That River," "Sickman," "Rain When I Die," and "Angry Chair" both nights, with DuVall capably belting out Staley's old agony. ("Would" and "Rooster" also formed an admittedly predictable encore.) It's a challenge not to compare the new singer's voice with Staley's, but it's one the band has invited by moving forward while playing their classic material; simply put, DuVall hits every note and has his own unique upper register, but Staley's voice cannot be matched. So kudos to the new man for not simply impersonating the old—and for rising to a difficult challenge, especially in his band's hometown. (It doesn't hurt that he dons a guitar and trades lead and rhythm riffs with Cantrell.) He acknowledged this task Friday night (after seeming a bit stiff through most of Thursday's set), thanking the city for making him feel welcome and for giving the band a future. The place went wild.

Friday's near 120-minute set further revisited the band's early work, serving up heavy Facelift songs "Love Hate Love" and "We Die Young" on top of both nights' "It Ain't Like That" and "Man In The Box." Every old tune sounded fresh and alive—cleaner, if possible, than its recorded version. And the band clearly enjoyed playing them, grinning, roaming the stage, and banging their heads while fortysomething fans and preteens in black tees did the same.

But this wasn't just a two-night nostalgia fest. Alice in Chains had the place bouncing and singing along with Black Gives Way's "All Secrets Known," "Last Of My Kind, "Acid Bubble," "A Looking In View," "Lesson Learned," and the Jar Of Flies-influenced "Your Decision." With the new record's heavy energy and this impressive showing, the band is clearly keen on staying together, and if anything, has gained rather than lost steam in its signature rock pursuit. The new album's title refers to a dawning day, after all.

Bristle if you will, but perhaps the addition of DuVall—along with continued respect for Staley, who Cantrell dedicated "Nutshell" to on Friday—will allow Alice in Chains to explore new themes, cultivate new fans, and eventually get its due. A line in "Lesson Learned" asserts, "In your darkest hour you strike gold." The band could just be learning the value of that discovery now.

Okay, you donated $10 via text message. You called into the Hope for Haiti telethon and, thirty minutes later, gave a woman who wasn't Julia Roberts your debit card number. You're feeling pretty good about your efforts. As you should. So why not reward yourself by giving more—and enjoying some great tunes in the process? Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder and Mike McCready, along with a host of local musicians, can help you with that.

---

For under a buck, you can score Vedder's beautiful rendition of The Boss' "My City of Ruins," performed last month for the latter's Kennedy Center Honors ceremony. (Proceeds benefit Artists for Peace and Justice Haiti Relief.) Springsteen's inspiring ode to Asbury Park, New Jersey ("Rise up!") has new, internationally apt meaning now. Vedder's take is faithful to the original while also a close sonic cousin to his Into the Wild work and the tear duct-punching "Just Breathe" from Pearl Jam's Backspacer. One dollar. One amazing song. One way to help your fellow human beings rise from tragedy.

Another way: buy tickets to next month's "Hootenanny for Haiti." The details:

Showbox and Seattle Theatre Group (STG) present “A Hootenanny For Haiti” at Showbox at the Market on Sunday, February 28th at 7:30pm.

Duff McKagan, Mike McCready, Kim Virant, Kristen Ward, Kim Warnick, Mark Pickerel, Star Anna, Chris Friel, Gary Westlake, Jeff Rouse, Justin Davis, Ty Bailie and friends perform together in an intimate setting to support the Haiti relief efforts of Partners in Health (www.pih.org).

“A Hootenanny For Haiti” is possible by the generous donations of the artists and venue with 100% of the ticket price going to Partners in Health.

That's right, this is a night with members of PJ; McKagan's Loaded; McCready's first band, Shadow; UFO tribute band Flight to Mars; the Fastbacks; etc. It's an eclectic and insanely talented mix of artists—and I wouldn't be surprised if "and friends" included the likes of Stone Gossard and Tim DiJulio. All for $15 donated bucks.

There are other local music-related outlets for Haiti support. They deserve your patronage, too. But will they rock you like these?

Almost immediately after Chris Cornell tweeted the 2010 return of Soundgarden, skeptical speculation grew that the former frontman's New Year's blurb didn't actually promise anything. That maybe it was just a clever fan club ploy. Then the rumored Coachella inclusion fell through. But today's lunch-hour email, sent to us folks who impulsively threw our contact info at soundgardenworld.com, seems a stamp of authenticity.

It's happening, people.

---

---

I believe the Pale Ale standard was set back around 1990 (like so much local rock music) by Sierra Nevada's now-classic green label offering. So it's with a mix of skepticism and excitement that I greet any new Pale—even those originating in the beervana that is the PNW. Append Pyramid Brewing Co.'s name to the style and I'm even more divided.

The Seattle-born macro-micro has done IPA, Hefeweizen, and apri-hefe amazingly well for years—setting standards of its own—but its other labels, especially seasonals, are either less memorable or short-lived. (Curve Ball was once a Kolsch; Coastline died; Broken Rake died; etc.) So, Pyramid's new spring brew, Fling Pale Ale?

Sounds like an advertisement of its tightrope existence.

---

The press release claims, amid its loquacious superlatives, "a big, fresh hop nose followed by the perfect blend of malt sweetness and hop bitterness." And hey, it nails the latter half. I didn't detect much of any aroma after popping an advance bottle, but Fling does piggyback a very nice, crisp hop bite on an initially, briefly, sweet flavor. The first few swallows didn't do much for me, but a lingering, tongue-coating bitterness grew stronger with each (modest) gulp.

---

The PR people have an intriguing explanation: "Fling is punctuated with a slightly hoppy bite thanks to an experimental Cascade/Fuggle hybrid hop, as well as Nugget and Willamette hops." My expertise ends at "hybrid," honestly, but my mouth says their experiment (code name: XP-04188) has resulted in something swell. If I didn't know better, I might think this beer was a lesser (36 IBU) IPA.

They say Fling sports "medium body" and "a beautiful golden orange color." And in this case, they're accurate with both claims. It is pretty, but a little flimsy, in the glass—looking more like Bud Light than boutique Pale. No head whatsoever. So the slow build of 5.2% ABV body belies Fling's instantly clean mouthfeel; after the glass is empty, a pleasant, dry hop bitterness remains.

I have to admit, my disappointment with Pyramid's new brew—available in six- and twelve- packs, 22oz bombers, and on Brewhouse tap February through March—is that it won't be around for beer garden/baseball season. Or the rest of the year. Tastes more like a quality staple offering than a special (high ABV, special ingredients, whatever) release to me.

Here's to Fling having a longer shelf life than previous Pyramid seasonals.

Meh. That's what I thought of Mudhoney in 1993, after seeing the unabashedly scrappy band open for Pearl Jam. And what I've thought, for almost as many years, of New Belgium Brewing's beer resume.

Sometimes you're just wrong about shit.

---

Lucky for the ignoramuses among us, Mudhoney's still around and making fantastic fuzzy rock. In fact, as announced yesterday, the band's exhibiting its classic grunge style at Neumos next month. Also fortuitous: New Belgium's plugging the massive hop-hole in their product line with the new 7% ABV Ranger IPA.

But what really has the angels singing in my animated, clouds-parting sky is this: Mudhoney is playing Neumos on February 8 to celebrate the launch of said India Pale Ale. (As is opener Sleepy Sun.) And you can catch the iconic act's set for free by purchasing a Fat Tire amber (still...meh!) at Moe Bar. (No ticket price is listed on Neumos calendar, and no Mudhoney show exists at TicketsWest, so this, what, four dollar? beer may be your only means of admission.)

Get thee to Neumos that Monday, fellow ignoramuses (and already-enlightened ones). A Mudhoney show can change your life. Great beer can too, but unless there's a Ranger keg tapped (as there damn well should be), it probably won't happen this night.