Cameron Crowe's superb PJ20 documentary from 2011 told, in detail, the story of Pearl Jam's formation and first decade, stopping shortly after 2000's Binaural and quickly glossing over the ensuing decade. This was a time period of intense touring and three other albums, not to mention a few side projects, but it hardly gets any screen time.
The reason, I think, is that the band's music has been pretty much the same since 2002's Riot Act. Sure, they can churn out a nifty hard rock single and a lovely slow tune with each album, but the fire of before is gone, replaced with a journeyman philosophy. It's like the band punches the studio clock once every four years, churns out an album that the faithful (like me) will eat up, and embarks on a tour full of legendary, soul-baring live shows.
Riot Act remains the weakest album in the Pearl Jam canon, its warm sound masking a certain boredom, and as such it established a template that would be followed by Pearl Jam, Backspacer and now Lightning Bolt. A solid but unremarkable rock song opens, followed by a punchy near-punk track that gets radio airplay, ten or so good midtempo rockers with the frequent guitar line and harmony that grabs the ears, and then a slow ballad to end the disc.
It's all good music, the type where the subtleties grow on the listener after repeated listens, played by a quartet that has been together since 1991 and a drummer who joined up in 1998 and became part of the family. There's a certain comfort in playing together for that long, although the band doesn't seem to write together as much; unlike Vitalogy, where everybody pretty much got credit for everything, the tracks here were written mostly individually.
That comfort, the ease and the formula all comes together to create another fine modern-day Pearl Jam record, no more, no less. If you've heard Backspacer or Pearl Jam, you know what to expect, and if you liked those you will like this too. Mike McCready's "Mind Your Manners" is the obligatory punky single, a musical sequel to 1995's "Spin The Black Circle" complete with a kickass guitar solo, an urgent pulse-racing rhythm and Vedder's howling, quasi-religious lyrics ("I caught myself believing / That I needed God / And if it's out there somewhere / We sure could use hymn now").
Vedder's lyrics frequently question religious themes, the joy of music on vinyl, relationships, and the trials of growing up; familiar ground, sure, but written with the gravity of someone in his mid-40s who has seen and done much. Moreover, the words seem to concern characters instead of Vedder himself, from the world-destroying girlfriend of "Lightning Bolt" to the pissed off child in "My Father's Son" (OK, that one could be autobiographical) to the alcoholic vinyl loner in "Let the Records Play."
There may be nothing jaw-dropping, no experimentation and little of the fire that served this band so well for their first six albums, but it's still Pearl Jam, and it's still good music. "Pendulum" is a quietly eerie piece about the ups and downs of life, told via bongo drums (guitarist Gossard), a bowed guitar and sparse keyboard (bassist Ament) and Vedder's baritone, one of the finest in rock; his "ah ah ah" moans weaving in and out of the words help bring the song home.
Gossard's "Let the Records Play" has a rather bluesy intro and main theme, suggesting Stone has been listening to Joe Bonamassa, but the song gives way into a standard Pearl Jam verse. Vedder's "Sleeping By Myself" is a band cover of a song from his solo album Ukelele Songs, and while the full treatment is nice, it doesn't really save the song. Better is his closing acoustic love song "Future Days," which will likely (and deservedly) be used at weddings. McCready gets another shot across the bow with "My Father's Son," a snarling rocker with slight surf rock guitar overtones and a middle section that stops the momentum dead for a few moments, while his "Sirens" is a sort of ‘80s power ballad without a hint of cheese.
Unfortunately, even after listening to most these songs several times, they don't stick around in the listener's head. It could be a lack of memorable melodies, or the fact that the skill is there but the passion has been replaced with comfort; as the band glides through middle age, their music is doing the same, and that's the most unfortunate thing about Lightning Bolt. On the other hand, this is a band that has always looked to classic rock for inspiration (and still credits "Uncle Neil" Young in the liner notes), so perhaps the band embracing middle age was inevitable. Philosophy aside, though, this is still a good solid rock record without a hint of BS, and nobody makes those better than Pearl Jam.