Pearl Jam still worshipped ; Band's best qualities come through in live performance; [Ontario Edition]
Ben Rayner. Toronto Star. Toronto, Ont.: Oct 6, 2000. pg. F.15

Copyright 2000 Toronto Star, All Rights Reserved.

Record sales and critical ambivalence might tell a different story, but most of Pearl Jam's fans have never really lost interest in the band upon which they were once so quick to bestow rock messiah dom.

A significant number of them did, however, lose interest in growing with Pearl Jam.

The era defining Ten and, to a lesser extent, its superior sequels, Vs. and Vitalogy, still provoke a fair amount of reverence among those who've moved on to whatever musical fashions ascended in grunge's greasy wake during the mid '90s. The maddening success of bands like Creed, who've found lucrative employment emulating Pearl Jam's first album, ad nauseum, nevertheless suggests millions of Tower Records shoppers would have been perfectly content to see the Seattle quintet cryogenically frozen at the dawn of its career.

Pearl Jam's latest disc, Binaural, barely registered a blip with the public, but the band could still amble into the Air Canada Centre last night and be greeted as conquering heroes by 20,000 howling worshippers.

A simple grunt into the microphone by Eddie Vedder, whose unending disdain for rock stardom has always made him the quintessential '90s rock star, was enough to generate adulatory noise on a par with anything levelled recently at the Backstreet Boys.

What's plagued Pearl Jam on record, from 1996's No Code on, is that it's lost sight of its best qualities. Eddie Vedder's tremulous, emotive baritone and the sheer racket raised by his bandmates demand anthemic dressing; meandering Crazy Horse worship and those compact punk diatribes that all sound like variations on "Spin The Black Circle" don't let loose the emotional and physical heft that enabled Pearl Jam to connect so firmly with a generation of messed up kids.

Live, fortunately, Pearl Jam remains all about rhythm, propulsion and pure, go for it force. Newer numbers ("Sleight Of Hand," the dirgey grinder "Nothing As It Seems," the Yield epic "Learn To Fly") retained their awkward dynamics and uneven flow, but were suitably strengthened by the sweeping roar the band kicks up on stage to stand favourably beside crowd pleasing chestnuts like "Once," "Animal" and "Dissident."

Meanwhile, a boisterous closing cover of The Who's "Baba O'Riley," offering a dead on Roger Daltrey impersonation by Vedder, commented revealingly on Pearl Jam's sonic ancestry.

There was nevertheless a resoundingly homogeneous quality to most of last night's set. Pearl Jam's an admirably visceral outfit, but when it indulges a little subtlety and pauses to play actual songs more tender entries such as "Daughter," "Betterman," Victoria Williams' "Crazy Mary" and the pretty "Wishlist" it puts that wallop to more satisfying use.