When we choose a group as ‘our favorite’ we are not only expressing our artistic concerns, we are also positioning ourselves before the world, we are defining ourselves. And especially during adolescence, that decision is greatly influenced by how comfortable we feel at their concerts. If the people around you seem cool and the environment makes you feel part of something, the choice becomes a vital oath. But if you go to see your favorite band live and you have two lacrosse-loving, Trump-supporting Silicon Valley guys next to you, your convictions plummet into the abyss.
That is what happened to classical music critic Ronen Givony, and what prompted him to write ‘Not for you. Pearl Jam, live in the present (ed. Alliance)’, a book that traces a biography of the last survivors of grunge but not from a journalistic perspective, but strictly fan. “They were two tall, muscular white guys in military pants, baseball caps and flip-flops who liked Dave Matthews. In other words, the kind of people you see in droves at Pearl Jam concerts,” says the author ironically, who has spent several months since that night trying to understand how that could be possible. “It’s easy to ridicule these people, they’re not very deep people,” Givony continues. “However, he gave me pause. How to explain that, with all our political, work, educational differences, for two and a half hours we would be together, singing, out of tune and believing, in an unlogical way, that the world had a solution (…) The answer is simple: that is what happens at Pearl Jam concerts, and for me, nowhere else.”
Paradoxically, according to Givony, that’s also what makes so many people hate Eddie Vedder and company. “They’re like Poison. Not a group to brag about in public. A band like Journey generates less pitorreo, it is better to defend Def Leppard”, he assures, exhibiting his skills to provoke readers, not only fans but also haters. Especially to the followers of his great rival in Seattle. «Pearl Jam were better than Nirvana», he writes with apparent conviction: «Better than Rage Against the Machine, than Fugazi, Sleater-Kenney or Pavement (…) Nobody in all those years recorded anything as good as ‘Ten’, ‘Vs’, ‘Vitalogy’, ‘No code’ and ‘Yield’ (…) Pearl Jam were the most famous, influential and imitated bands of the years they deny”, he says, completely braking, as if he really wanted to put our finger in our eyes so that we hate them a little more.
Throughout this four-hundred-page billet, Givony traces a biography full of very interesting insider stories of each of the group’s stages, interspersed with memories of the fifty-seven times he has gone to see them perform. It portrays them as defenders of the working class, pointing out that “in almost every concert there is a moment in which Eddie addresses the public of the cheap seats and performs for them”, and demonstrating that “with their music they presented their followers with themes such as racism, police violence, the right to abortion or the privileges of being white”. But above all, he amuses his profile as a gentleman protector of his fans, explaining in depth the conflict that confronted them with Ticketmaster due to the increase in ticket prices, and hagiography some of his most memorable ecstasies of rock solidarity, like this one he witnessed in Cleveland: « The music has taken over several attendees and some try to get on stage while ‘Porch’ plays, more people join in and the security begin to work hard. Without breaking the song, Eddie orders them to leave them alone with a cry that could be heard for miles, ‘hey, leave ’em! Hey!'”. He does not hesitate to sell that the singer is Jesus Christ on earth, a fucking uncle, balanced and committed, and he expands comparing him to his nemesis Kurt Cobain. “It’s obvious that Kurt and Eddie had things in common: they were self-taught, working class, with divorced parents. They were indecisive leaders but they knew how to promote their image, they had ambitions and principles, and they were also generous, intelligent, sensitive and selfless. And yet the differences were significant. Beyond the drama offstage, Nirvana and Pearl Jam, and especially their singers, were always shown as polar opposites. The differences are subtle and superficial, intimate and deep. Kurt was cool by nature, exuding chaos, glamor and a certain arrogance, while Eddie came across as serious, complacent and solemn.”
Among the thousand and one anecdotes that fit in the volume there are moments for laughter (“What is the best way to provoke a discussion between Pearl Jam fans? Ask who their best drummer has been”), surprise (it turns out that Flea and Vedder met on a hike through Yosemite Park before they were stars) and lore, detailing exactly what each member did before the group was formed and how they met. But the best thing about this ‘Not for you’ is that no one will ever be able to write a book about Pearl Jam that is even remotely similar.