Grunge Is Dead

by Greg Prato

  BEN LONDON: I think that Tad could have been bigger. In some ways, they epitomized grunge more than anybody. But it wasn’t as pretty as it could have been [laughs].

  VAN CONNER: [1996’s Dust] is probably my favorite record. I’d always wanted to make more than just [a] one-dimensional rock album. And having Benmont Tench [the keyboardist from Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers] play on it made a big difference. Although it was the worst album ever to make in the songwriting end — we wrote hundreds of songs for that record, and we only put ten on. And it took forever to record — we recorded it twice. The band was going through a lot of turmoil with substance abuse. [Lollapalooza ’96] was actually a lot of fun … I think [laughs]. That was crazed. Burning hot summer. It was like being free all of a sudden — we finally finished that damn record that took us like four years. At that point, I just went, “I’m going to do whatever I want, all the time.” That was my “living to excess tour.” Living the stupid “Keith Moon lifestyle.” Like Spinal Tap said, “Toured the world and elsewhere” [laughs].

  Josh [Homme, touring guitarist, and later leader of Queens of the Stone Age] was a great guy to tour with, and a really great friend. He made everything a lot more fun. We wanted to have a second guitar — he was in school, so we talked him into going on Lollapalooza. The coolest thing was him and Lee playing together — I wish I had some tapes of the shows, because halfway through the tour, they clicked. Started doing crazy solo jams. Josh was definitely a highlight of the last part of the Trees — he gave us some new energy. I wish we got to record an album with him as part of the songwriting team. We started to plan [an album], but it fell apart. We were going to do another tour, and the drug and alcohol thing just got to be too much. People went to institutions and stuff [laughs].

  We actually didn’t break up until three years later. In 2000, we played the opening of the EMP [Experience Music Project] in Seattle. Lanegan — on the spur of the moment — said, “We quit,” to the press. And he told us right before we played. Before that though, the thing that stopped us was a combination of drugs and just beating our head against the wall for so long. And all of us wanting it our own way — we struggled with each other. I don’t know what it was — we always held back on committing all the way. We could never commit to being a real commercial rock band. At every turn, when it came time to kiss somebody’s ass to get the money from the label, somebody would tell them to kiss their ass. Couldn’t tame the Screaming Trees beast.

  MEGAN JASPER: Not that they’re forgotten, but it amazes me that they never saw a level of success that they were so deserving of. They did well, but those guys should have been full on, worldwide rock stars.

  MARK PICKEREL: I would love for [a reunion] to happen — even if it was on a temporary basis. Like, to rehearse our existing catalog and do a tour — possibly record another record, tour, and go back to our lives after a year — would be amazing. Oh hell yes — I would be so thrilled with that.

  VAN CONNER: I don’t see any reason to. Unless it was like the Cream reunion, when we’re all, like, eighty years old. I guess it would have to be, “What’s it for?” and “What is it now?” A month ago, I would say, “No way, it would never happen.” But I don’t know … probably not [laughs].

  DALE CROVER: Once we got off Atlantic, we recorded Honky, that came out in ’97. We had that record in the can and ready to go before we got dropped. We’d done three records with Atlantic and we were surprised we’d done that many. We put that record out on Amphetamine Reptile — recorded and mixed in six days, just like the good old days. In fact, I didn’t even know what to think of that record until a few years ago when I listened back. I really like that one a lot. Then we signed with Ipecac. We had this idea that we wanted to do a trilogy of records — they were into the idea. We recorded [1999’s The Maggot and The Bootlicker, and 2000’s The Crybaby] at pretty much the same time, but they all sound different. It worked great. Been doing records with those guys ever since — they are into all of our stupid ideas.

  TINUVIEL: They’ve got the best drummer in the world. They have their own vision that they’re following. They don’t worry about whatever anyone else is doing.

  REGAN HAGAR: I think the world of the Melvins, and I respect them for sticking to their guns for two decades.

  ROBERT ROTH: Atlantic Records wanted to sign [Truly] in ’91, and we met with them. It was the typical guy in the cowboy boots and shiny jacket, and it scared everybody. We just said, “Nah.” Around ’93, I said, “I want to do this — this is what I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid. There’s no guilt and shame in wanting to do this.” I remember Kurt having said that he was going to put in “a good word” to Gary Gersh [who subsequently signed Truly to Capitol]. That was really exciting, because we were in a position at Capitol where we were getting to make all the decisions. We had freedom that we didn’t even have at Sub Pop, as far as artistic control.

  The one that’s my favorite is [1995’s] Fast Stories … from Kid Coma. I really feel that it’s an album, in the sense that we weren’t just putting together a collection of songs. In our heads, it was like a movie we were making. By the time we made that record, they said things like, “Push the envelope — do what you want to do,” and “Don’t worry about singles, don’t worry about hits until the third or fourth record. We want you to be an album band like Pink Floyd or Zeppelin.” We’re like, “Are you sure?”

  HIRO YAMAMOTO: Some of the songs and lyrics [on Fast Stories] still put a chill down my spine when I hear them. Certain parts of songs just have this feel, and to me, that’s the reason why I always played music — to make that kind of sound.

  ROBERT ROTH: When Kurt died, the industry changed quite a bit. There was definitely a big Seattle backlash, and the industry wanted one hit wonders. Our record was getting rave reviews, and Everclear’s reviews were horrible. But the head of the a&r department was their a&r guy. We started to break out in England. We were getting huge press there, and when we got back from England, they sent a memo to everybody at the company, saying, “All projects except Foo Fighters, Everclear, Beatles, and Radiohead are on hold.” EMI was potentially going to be up for sale.

  So they basically told us, “We’re sorry we didn’t have our shit together when your record came out. We were very confused and disorganized. Rather than stick more money into this album, why don’t we just start working on a new one?” At that point, KROQ was playing “Blue Flame Ford.” I went there and edited a single version — they were ready to break it as a single. The guy at the radio department said, “We have to get permission. Releasing a single costs $100,000.” I’m like, “Why does it cost $100,000 if they’re already playing it, and we’ve already edited it?” And he basically said, “ It’s payola — you have to pay this money.” So they sent us back to the studio to make our next record, instead of paying up that 100 grand and continuing to promote the record.

  HIRO YAMAMOTO: [1997’s] Feeling You Up CD was way more pop songs, and we made a decision to do that. I remember saying to Robert, “Let’s not try to be ‘the psychedelic hippie dream band’ — let’s make something more concise. No more six or ten minute songs.” That’s our strength — being able to let it loose and let all that stuff fly. There’s a lot of soul and emotion in them.

  ROBERT ROTH: Our attorney, Rosemary Carroll, and manager were encouraging us to leave the label, and were going to be shopping us around to other labels. Rosemary had a falling out with our manager, so Rosemary didn’t shop us around to anybody. Zak Einstein from Thick Records wanted to put out a Truly something, and I said, “We have enough songs for an album, if you can just give us a little bit of money to finish up a few, we can put that out.” And that’s what we did. But at that point, I felt like we were going to have to get on a bigger label to have any kind of major success. We went out and toured the States on that tour, and Mark had some personal things going on at home, and we had to cancel the tour halfway through. Apparently, waiting at Spaceland were a bunch of label rep
s waiting to see us. The band broke up at that point. But to our credit, I think we took the Seattle music thing a lot further — adding Mellotron and keyboards. I know for a fact we were an influence on Radiohead, who at the time, had done The Bends, and their next record [1997’s OK Computer] was full of Mellotron, piano, and crazy guitar sounds. At that point, we were a lot hipper band at Capitol than Radiohead was. They had been signed by the previous regime. So I knew we had an influence.

  HIRO YAMAMOTO: We just got together about a month ago and started playing again, and it was like we never stopped playing. It was right back. There is some kind of electricity to the way we play — we hear each other really well and have a great way of playing together.

  MARK PICKEREL: I think we made great records. In the last year or so, I’ve been getting fan mail because of those records, and people showing a real interest in those records again.

  CHAPTER 35

  “Standing up for something they believed in”: Pearl Jam

  Along with Mudhoney and the Melvins, Pearl Jam was one of the few grunge bands left standing from the mid ’90s onward. But it wasn’t easy, as they navigated the tricky waters of success — along with a noble battle against Ticketmaster.

  ADAM KASPER: Abbruzzese — I never really saw him. Towards the end of [1994’s Vitalogy], he was out, as far as Eddie was concerned. He overplayed a lot — it didn’t fit the band. But he did a great job on those records — he propelled the band in a good way.

  JEFF AMENT: We recorded Vitalogy at a bunch of different places — Seattle, New Orleans, and Atlanta. If there was a logical point for us to break up, that was probably it. There were a lot of weird power struggles going on in the band — nobody was communicating. I was ready to just build a cabin in the hills and call it a day. Somehow, we got through that whole process. I’m not really sure how or why. Rightly so, I think a lot of it was Ed taking the reins. Up to that point, in a lot of regards, Stone and I made a lot of the decisions. We got the band together, and Stone had always been the primary songwriter, and I’d always been the artist and his collaborator. It was a natural thing, but there were growing pains with it all the way around. We didn’t understand what was changing, and I’m sure in some regard, Ed didn’t either. We certainly didn’t know how to talk about it. Dave getting fired probably was what saved the band, and Jack [Irons] joining — that gave Ed an ally. And it made a lot of sense from our standpoint — we wanted him in the band in the first place. I think every lineup change the band’s had, there’s been a lot of logic behind it — including Matt [Cameron], who played on the first demos that we recorded. All the drummer changes have felt pretty natural — even with “the Spinal Tap element.”

  EDDIE VEDDER: That’s funny — for me, [Vitalogy] probably felt better. I think I was doing a little more writing music on that one — bringing in more songs as far as complete. I found it to be liberating, enjoyable, and creatively fulfilling [laughs]. No wonder everyone felt contested and wanted to quit. There was more bizarre experimentation going on, and you’d have a couple well put-together songs. I liked the interesting segues — years later, if I got a new record player and I wanted to hear what our records sounded like on it, I would pick one of those bizarro segues. I found it interesting to listen to and some of the favorite stuff we’d done up to that point. For me, it was grasping what it was like to record — finally feeling ahead of the wave a bit, and not stuck in the whitewash of confusion and intimidation of being in a studio. Also seeing the studio and a reel of blank tape as being silence, and that silence being a blank canvas. And painting on it more than just writing chords and a chorus.

  JOHN LEIGHTON BEEZER: They were arguably the biggest band in the world for quite a while, and they could have exploited that to a much greater extent. But when they had their battle with Ticketmaster, that was the absolute wrong career move to make — they should have been selling out stadiums, and building the kind of fanbase that was going to buy album after album for decades. They were basically sidelined.

  CATHY FAULKNER: The Pearl Jam/Ticketmaster thing I think was very indicative of the philosophy of the band. If they believed in something, they stood up — no matter how hard it was. And they have always not only fought for themselves and the music that they felt passionately for, but they’ve always stood up for their fans. Not since the Grateful Dead have I seen a band go above and beyond to include their fans every step of the way. They felt the fans were treated poorly with inconsistent practices with Ticketmaster, and felt somebody needed to stand up. I have all the respect for them for standing up for something they believed in.

  KRISHA AUGEROT: It was like a worst nightmare for a manager, but at the same time, he was really excited about it. He was into fighting the corporations and trying to win. He wanted to make a statement, and if it cost Pearl Jam, at least they would be paving the way for other bands in the future. It was a big deal for them — I remember Stone and Jeff going to court and testifying.

  COLLEEN COMBS: I had to go to a Department of Justice meeting and explain [the situation] to these people. It was exactly as you would imagine it — very straight white men in suits, having no concept. Where you wanted to go, “Were you ever young? Did you ever go see a live show? Do you know what a venue is?” Trying to explain that to a person who has no idea at all. The kind of person that probably thinks, “How do those rock ’n’ roll bands make money?”

  I’m not sure who to give credit to for this. In my mind, it started out small. These fees vary from city to city. What is that money for? Where does it go? You start looking into it — something that most people don’t question. There’s a lot of things that happen that unless someone decides to question it, it just goes along. So Kelly noticed, maybe our production manager — they started looking into it. As soon as Kelly questioned it, it got huge. You realized that something was going on, because you couldn’t really get an accounting of where the fees went to, or why they varied. It was very suspicious. So once it got questioned, once it seemed like, “That doesn’t make any sense. What can we do about it? We’ll do this.” Seemed small, seemed simple. Suddenly, it snowballed, and there was all this stuff to do. It seemed like a small question that turned into a huge thing.

  EDDIE VEDDER: It was at a time when we were accomplishing a lot. The fact that we were able to list a concert date and have it sell out within twenty minutes — that was something valuable, which was ours. I’m trying to avoid using the word “power” [laughs]. There was power in that, and there was the power to say, “No,” and there was the power to say, “We wanted cheaper ticket prices,” and there was the power to say, “We wanted the venues or promoters to take a lesser percent of T-shirt money, so we could sell them at a lesser price.” We’d say, “We want T-shirt prices to be … at the time, they were twenty dollars. When we went to concerts they were ten dollars.” They wanted them to be twenty-five dollars, and we wanted them to be eighteen dollars or something. They’re saying, “You can sell them for ten dollars or eighteen dollars, that’s fine — but we’re still taking our bigger cut.” And we’re saying, “No — if we’re taking a smaller cut, then you have to take a smaller cut.” And the same happened with tickets. If we’re taking a smaller cut — if you’re charging a four dollar service charge on a twenty-two dollar ticket, and our ticket is going to be seventeen, then it can’t be four dollars. You have to lessen it the way we’re lessening it. And they weren’t having it. So we were accomplishing a lot with these kind of issues. And we were convincing people, “Look, there’s enough meat on the pig to go around — let’s not eat it all at once.”

  Heeere’s Eddie!

  It seemed that when this first came up, it was a no-brainer and no big deal. We were naive to the fact of how much they had to lose if their cut of the pig was to be tampered with. And that it was going to be some ripple effect [that] would cut them off of millions of dollars or something. For us, at one point, we realized if we played two shows, say in Chicago, and we were selling 40,000 tickets i
n half an hour, and the band got paid a certain amount for playing these two shows, and that if the ticket surcharge was five dollars on every ticket, they didn’t have to do any advertising or any anything because there was a high demand. It was just bizarre to think that that ticket company, without getting off their ass, was making more money than the band was, after we showed up and played for 40,000 people. It seemed like there wasn’t an equal amount of profit margin per effort. That seemed normal to address.

  It entered a whole other thing, where the Justice Department asked us, and there seemed to be a coalition of other artists and their managers that were all coming together. I think what happened was that Ticketmaster then cut deals with a lot of those guys, and they’d get Green Day on their side. It got fairly diabolical, and they spent a lot of money to protect their interests, where I know we spent some money on attorneys. We probably invested forty grand into the fight, which went on for about a year and a half. But they hired pr firms — a number of them — at once. It started to look good for them when they hired, I believe, a law firm that the head of had just stepped down as a Justice Department official. I think that was a move which brought them one step away from victory. After a year and a half — if I remember correctly — it was like a two line release from the Justice Department, which said, “The suit against Ticketmaster has been dropped. No further investigation against Ticketmaster will take place.” Ta da! That was it — that was “the big ending.” And it happened on like a holiday weekend. So we got to learn — up close and personal — what it’s like to be stomped on by a huge corporate entity.

  COLLEEN COMBS: Because the band wasn’t going to play Ticketmaster venues, they essentially had to build from the ground up. We were playing at a lot of places that were fair sites and parks. I don’t know if people really understand what a hassle and cost that is. But that was part of who Pearl Jam was — they would forfeit a certain percentage of profits to do what they thought was the right thing to do. Or hand make tickets, so you had a great memento from a show. They would have artists in Seattle design tickets. We were trying to put together a ticketing system of our own. Really way too much for them — or any of us — to try and do.