November 3 - Yellow Ledbetter

The other half of Temple of the Dog - or the majority of it - was, of course, Pearl Jam, and I have been a fan since I first heard them on Norwegian Radio in 1991, when their debut album, Ten, was released. I think I almost wore Ten out as well (although I still have the original copy I purchased back then).Today's song is not on any of their regular albums - but it did appear on the single for Jeremy from Ten. This is Pearl Jam channeling their inner Jimi Hendrix, as I hear echoes of Little Wing very clearly in the guitar playing. However, I have no clue what Eddie Vedder sings in Yellow Ledbetter without following along to these lyrics...

April 26 - Daughter

16 years ago today my life changed forever. I was still fairly new to the United States, I was still fairly newly married, and I was going to school. But none of that would compare to becoming a dad for the very first time. I remember sitting in the living room reading the book Rush Limbaugh Is A Big Fat Idiot by now Senator Al Franken, for some reason thinking that hitting the vital signs screen to see how they had changed was a good idea, and discussing computers with the doctor during the delivery. It was a strange day, but it was a beautiful day.

When we went in to the delivery room,  we had two names to choose between, knowing that we wanted to meet her first. After holding her in our arms, it was clear that she was an Emma and not a Nina. And today she turns 16.

It's funny how songs take on new meanings over time, and today's  song is no exception. I was a fan of Pearl Jam from the beginning. Today's  song is taken from their second album, Vs., and it's a beautiful song. Here is Daughter.

March 29 - Alive

So I apparently reached 44. I wasn't always certain that I would, so the song of the day is very appropriate - even though the lyrics don't describe my life, they do describe how I feel, especially the chorus.

I have a choice on how open and honest I should be in this post, and I think I am landing on very. The truth is that there have been several stopping off places in my life where I thought it was time to exit it all. So, with that, let me take you back in time.

I don’t really remember the first time. It is coming to me in bits and pieces. I was 10, maybe 11. I only know this, because I remember what friend I talked to about it. He was a great guy – probably still is, but I haven’t seen him in 25 years or so. Back then, my bed was wooden, dark brown, and decorated with home-made Kiss stickers. Trading cards and double-sided tape. Kiss was all I was listening to. I had a red and black plaid wool scarf, and above my bed I had a reading light that was drilled securely into the wall. It was a darker orange lamp, almost red. I would practice tying the scarf to the lamp and tightening it around my neck. Not enough to leave any marks or passing out – but I was practicing. I didn’t think that I should be around anymore. But... It passed.

The second time was different. I remember the moment with vivid clarity. I was driving home after spending the evening with my girlfriend, the relationship was going well, the night was clear, and the moon bathed the snow covered landscape with the electric blue light only crisp winter nights can have. The music on my stereo was upbeat, and my life seemed better than ever. It was at that exact moment I realized that I wanted to die. I was 21, almost 22 then. It's been half a lifetime.

This time the feeling had a name: Depression. My depression snuck in with gentle reminders that I wasn’t as good as I should be. Actually, the word ‘should’ was the core element of my whole experience with depression. I find it interesting how one word like that can take over and control your whole life. For me, the word ‘should’ stole ten years of my life. Ten years where all my energy gradually was poured into hating myself for not living up to my own standards – I wasn’t who I ‘should’ be. 

The thing about depression is that it turns into one of those acquaintances who see you as a really close friend. The kind that knows you better than you want it to. The kind that doesn't really knock on the door but just comes in and starts making itself at home. The kind that always overstays its welcome. And the kind that insists on coming back even after you kick it out.

So it's been half a lifetime since I discovered depression and was able to put a name to it. But I really met depression way before then. I could trace that episode back to my junior year in high school - but I think I really met depression even younger than that. Like around 10 or 11. Maybe I knew this without realizing it when I in middle school decided I wanted to study psychology.

But I was 22 when I first tried to kick it out. It took all I had to tell my parents and a few select friends. My earlier mentioned relationship had ended, and I am positive some thought I was just heartbroken. However, I was convinced by my parents that I needed to see someone, so I went to a psychiatric nurse, who must have had some diploma mill degree, because all he said after I logically and analytically had explained what was going on was that I was resourceful enough to figure it out. I eventually found another therapist, one that worked - and then I had to find yet another one, and by the time I reached 27, almost a decade after what I could trace as a starting point to this episode, I did kick depression out.

So where am I today? Well... It still visits. It comes sitting at my bed from time to time. I am usually good at getting rid of it, but sometimes it takes a long time. A very long time. I think knowing it makes me a better counselor. Empathy comes easy for me - and it is very genuine. I work really hard to be less of who I 'should' be and more of who I genuinely am. I also pour some energy into working for suicide prevention. But most of all I try not to get too friendly with it when it visits. I have lived half my life knowing it - and I am not quite done yet. So for that reason alone, Pearl Jam's Alive is a triumphant shout out today, as I celebrate yet another year.

March 4 - Black

While many people found religion in Nirvana in 1991, I was not a convert. I have already covered my love for Soundgarden, but there was another band out of Seattle that was almost as important and powerful for me, and that was Pearl Jam. I remember driving in my dad's car, listening to Ungdommens Radioavis, the main radio program for youth in Norway at that time, and they presented this new album by a new band. The album was Ten, and the band was Pearl Jam. I don't remember if they did a feature presenting the album, interviewed them, or reviewed the album, but I remember being blown away by what I heard, and I promptly purchased the CD and taped it so I could listen to it in the car.

Pearl Jam was different than both Soundgarden and Nirvana. Their music was intensely emotional, yet powerful, and while I didn't pick up on it then, their love for The Who and their approach to music is evident even on Ten. However, rock journalists were trying to put a name to all the music that came out of Seattle, and labeled it grunge, which I believe has to have been one of the worst descriptors of a so-called music scene in the history of rock journalism. In my eyes, what appeared to have happened was that there was a very active music scene in Seattle, and Sub Pop records (regarded as the "grunge" label) was the main label that was willing to back the different bands that were emerging - and rather than having a unified sound, they had a unified passion for what they were doing (if you ever want to get an idea of the diversity of the Seattle music scene in the early 90s, listen to the soundtrack to Cameron Crowe's movie Singles - there is a huge difference between Soundgarden's Birth Ritual, Pearl Jam's Breathe, and Screaming Trees' I Nearly Lost You). But regardless of what I might think about the music scene or the grunge label, I really connected with Pearl Jam.

Beyond my personal connection with Pearl Jam, I believe that Ten simply is one of the all-time best debut albums of any band. I know I am not alone in believing this - a Rolling Stone Magazine readers' poll ranked it at #1 along with Appetite for Destruction by Guns'n'Roses. I am hard pressed to find fillers on the album, as the low points still are high - and the peaks... Just wow.

At any rate, Ten was a huge part of my soundtrack of 1991 and 1992. I think I wore out the tape I made of it, and the CD is well worn to the point that when it was rereleased a couple of years back, I picked up a new copy. One of my favorite tracks on the album is Black, which I decided to share today.