Tanned, Rested, Ready to Rock

by Karl Coryat
Photographs by Lance Mercer

When we last visited Jeff Ament four-and-a-half years ago (April 94), he was riding the wave of Pearl Jam's mega-successful first two albums, Ten and Vs. He was also living in the same cramped Seattle apartment he'd occupied since Nirvana was just a twinkle in the eye of the Space Needle. A half-decade and a gazillion record sales later, Pearl Jam is still cranking out high-energy, high-intensity tunes with great melodies, Jeff continues to grow as a bassist and a musician, and...he's still living at the same address.

Well, things have changed a little. Outside, the worn-brick building looks the same - but inside, Ament's space has been gutted, rebuilt, and redecorated into a spacious loft with warm colours, recessed lighting, and an expansive open kitchen, all exuding a postmodern glow. In one corner of his high-ceilinged living room is a 100-year-old Czech acoustic upright Jeff got for a steal several years ago. In the other corner, prominently displayed on a mantel, is an equally old book that details the horrors of self-pollution, urine retention, and other forms of wickedness. The tome, titled Vitalogy would be familiar to any Pearl Jam fan : It inspired the band's 1994 album of the same name.

The title was oddly prophetic. Somehow, Pearl Jam has remained vital while most early '90's Seattle groups have faded away. Perhaps it's the band's refusal to tour relentlessly; they play only as many live shows as they feel like playing. Perhaps it's the ever revolving drum chair (they're currently on their fourth drummer), which would keep any band on its toes. And of course, it could be Ament's multi-hued bass palette and relentlessly exploring style. Whether he's playing fretted, fretless, 12-string, or electric upright, and whether he's throttling the root, sliding a harmonic, plucking a double-stop, or growling a glissando, Jeff continues to pick just the right textures to enhance every song. Rock bands may come and go, but Pearl Jam seems to be here to stay. And they deserve to be.

Despite several difficult years rocked by internal conflict and a less-than-successful battle with a corporate Goliath named Ticketmaster, Eddie Vedder & Co. have again bounced back with a vengeance. The title of their latest recording, Yield, reflects a new willingness to put aside their ticketing battles for the sake of making great music. After going two years without touring, this spring a rusty Pearl Jam flew to Maui to surf, sunbathe, and kick off a month-long warmup mini-tour. By the time they got to Brisbane, Australia, they were once again the ass-kicking Pearl Jam of old - and they were itching for more.

How have you grown as a musician in the last few years?
I'm probably most excited about songwriting right now. I've always written pieces of songs, but two or three years ago I started finishing them and writing lyrics. Now I actually record songs at home and give tapes to the band, which is the best way to articulate musical ideas.

How do you go about songwriting?
Usually I sit around and play bass or guitar and come up with ideas, and if one sticks and I end up playing it on two or three different days I grab my tape deck and record it. From there I usually lay it down to 8-track with a click or drum pattern. I might put together ten basic arrangements, and of those maybe three or four will inspire me enough to put words to the, For the last record I think I completed eight songs, and I probably played four for the band.

How do you write bass lines for songs written by other people?
When we were making Yield it was almost the optimum situation. Everyone brought in ideas and each person would lay down an idea with a basic drum part. I'd come in early in the morning and sit in the control room with my amp, and I'd just play over the songs for two or three hours, trying different approaches, with different basses and sounds. The bass line for "All Those Yesterdays" came out immediately. For "Given To Fly" I ended up simplifying my line toward the end of the process; there was more going on first by the song didn't seem to need it.

Do you ever work out lines at home with tapes from the others?
We put a few things onto Tascam DA-88 [digital 8-track], maybe with two tracks for drums and one for the guitar idea, and I was able to take home the tape and mess around with it. I'm doing much more of that now. It's easy to sit around and play bass or guitar and come up with a cool idea, but to actually develop and arrange it - to try to get people excited about it - takes a lot more work. For the last couple of years that's been the fun part : to sit around with friends and play them songs I wrote.

Besides the intonation challenge, what do you consider the limitations of fretless?
For some reason, it's not as good for uptempo numbers. The precision and more staccato nature of the fretted bass is better suited for faster songs. But for things with sustained notes, the fretless works a lot better.

How much electric upright are you playing these days?
I probably play it five or six times a night. For a handful of songs I tell my tech, George Webb, "It's your call - just hand me whatever bass you want me to play." So he'll go with different basses on different nights, which makes it fun. When I'm playing for two hours straight, that keeps me on my toes. Sometimes it can be strange to bounce from a 12 string to electric upright, but when I go to the fretted 4, I think, Wow - this is so easy to play.

What will it be like going on a big U.S. tour after such a long layoff?
We're very excited - it's probably the first time we've been excited about touring since our first tour. In some ways we've been talking about it for two years. We wanted to tour last summer, but we just couldn't make it happen. We had ticketing issues going on and were trying to make a point but now it's like, "Okay we've had our battles and we'll continue to have a certain number of battles - but let's just go out, have some fun and play some music." We've been together for eight years, and except for that first year when there wasn't a lot of pressure, this is the first time we've wanted to just put our heads together and play great shows. We want that reciprocating energy that makes everyone high. It doesn't even have to go to that level; I'm just looking forward to seeing parts of the country I haven't seen for a long time.

Is is going to be hard to get back into touring mode?
In Australia, we played 17 shows in 25 days, and at the last three or four shows I felt I was just hitting my stride. I like how my hands felt and the way I was moving, playing and listening. Then it was gone, and I was like, "Shit - now we have two months off before the next tour."

Do your hands feel different at the end of a tour?
Definitely. You can be playing in the studio or even rehearsing for three or four hours straight, but when you actually play live, it seems to be exponentially more physical. There's something about the energy of being in front of all the people and the volume and everything that's going on, that makes the experience completely different. My whole body is usually dreadfully sore for the first week and a half of a tour. It's a great feeling, though, to push yourself physically like that.

How does the stage vibe affect the notes you play and the sound your hands get?
More than anything there's an intensity you just can't create otherwise. Sonically I think about the way my fingers are attacking the bass string; when you really grabbing the strings there are tone adjustments to be made in the top end. There's pacing too; there are times when you're relaxing and times when your arms is about to cramp up. Usually things end up being easier to play and more fluid when you're cal, - but if you can keep the intensity inside, you can strike a kind of balance. I'm just learning to play that way; where you can feel the intensity but still be relaxed.

Can you achieve the same intensity in a small club that you get in a huge arena?
Oh, yeah. In fact in smaller clubs the edge can be more intense, because you can see everybody. But it probably depends mostly on what mental state we're in. If we're allowing ourselves to enjoy what's going on, and if we're relaxing and communicating onstage and really paying attention, it translates musically. That's relevant to any music being played in front of people. Two or three years ago, at Soldier's Field [in Chicago], we played a show that was incredible. There was this amazing community vibe, and we could see people clear to the back of the place, with their arms up and singing.

Does everyone in the band know when you've had a good show, or do your perceptions afterward sometimes differ?
I'd say about half the time one person is an odd man out; one person's great show can be another's nightmare. Being self-critical is good to a certain point, because it hepls you improve - but you can also be hard on yourself to the point where it affects your confidence.

What's the best time and place for critiquing a performance?
We have a ten-minute rule - we can't say anything about a show until ten minutes after we've come off stage. That way everyone can calm down a bit. I've found the longer you wait the better the discussion.

Do you now find it easy to critique each other's performance, or is it still difficult?
We're a lot better at it. One of us might say "What were you doing on the bridge of 'Corduroy'? It seemed a little strange from my side of the stage." That's the only way you can present it, because maybe the person was trying something new, and you can't be too critical of that. We'll also talk to our sound guy or some of the crew members and ask how things sounded. It's important to understand that you have only a small perspective of what's going on, based on what you're hearing from your place onstage.

How much do you change your parts from night to night?
I don't think there's a song I ever play exactly the same way. Things have changed so much for us because we've had so many different drummers, and I've had to recreate my style rhythmically to go along with what each drummer is doing. That's exciting to me - it keeps things fresh - but on the other hand it gets old to teach drummers the songs. This summer we're going out with Matt Cameron [formerly of Soundgarden]. We played together on the Temple of the Dog record, and he's always been one of my favourites.

What qualities make a drummer great for you?
Their commitment to their parts. I'd say at half the Soundgarden shows I've been to, I've watched Matt almost the entire time. He doesn't play in the typical fashion; he puts things in strange places.

Do you find yourself making conscious adjustments from one drummer ot the next, or is it just a matter of letting things fall into place over time?
It just happens. When I get too analytical about how I'm going to play, I start thinking too much - and when I'm thinking too much it gets weird. I need to just close my eyes and try to feel the music.

Do you try not to think onstage?
It's preferable to stay on the right-brain side and get into a hypnotic mode; that's the optimum. When things start to go wrong - maybe if someone's making mistakes, or if a barricade breaks or someone jumps onstage and knocks you over - that'll shoot you over into the left brain. And sometimes it's hard to get back. You can start being completely self-aware and think, God - where do I go next? That's the worst. The same thing can happen if the show is being recorded or broadcast; then everone is in the left-brain mode and thinking about playing well. Usually by then end of one of those shows you're exhausted because you spent the enitre night going through every little detail and worrying about screwing up. I feel I can be more true to myself and be in a more giving, non-ego space if I can let go and play. Your ego doesn't come out and get in the way. Sometimes I don't need to be doing anything but hitting one note on the one, and if that's what the song needs at that point, it makes me happier than playing a thousand notes by myself.

Four years ago musicians were flocking to Seattle to be discovered. Has that calmed down?
It seems to have gotten back more to where it used to be. There are tons of little labels happening, and a lot of the people who didn't make it big back then are still here making music. And most of them aren't bitter about it. They're just doing what they do - they play music.

Any thoughts on the current state of rock & roll?
There's so much music out there right now, definitely more than ever before. That's great - people should be allowed to express themselves. But 20 or 30 years ago if someone was doing something different, there were the only one; the gap between that and the next thing was wide. Now that gap is all filled in, and it's harder to find the different stuff. A couple of weeks ago I looked at a copy of Billboard, and I didn't recognize much of anything in the Top 20, which amazed me. What I did recognize was crap, like Celine Dion and the Titanic soundtrack. Even among all the hip-hop and R&B, the stuff I've heard on the radio seems kind of soft. I just don't see a lot of substance on the charts today. That's also true in rock. In the last few years it seems like there's been a few really big pop/rock records per year, but you don't see anything sustaining. A band might sell millions on their first record, but by the time they follow it up people have moved onto something else. With the computer age and all the attention defecit, people are on to the next thing before they really got to enjoy the last thing.

As a musician, what one thing would you most like to do over?
I took piano lessons from first grade to sixth, and I was in choir from fifth to eighth grade, and I wish I had continued both of these. Through high school I didn't play music at all. If I'd continued things probably would have been a lot easier; I'd probably be a much better bassist and singer.

What kind of non-musical activities do you enjoy?
Almost anything outdoors, like being in the mountains hiking or snowboarding or mountain biking. And I still play basketball a lot; if I'm in Seattle I play three or four days a week, as much as my legs will take. It's a good outlet for me - the kind of place where I can be competitive in a healthy way. I also still do artwork. Sometimes I get in phases for two or three weeks when I paint every day. Ultimately, I could see myself doing that a lot more; in fact I'd love to be able to do it all the time.

N.B. I've trimmed some of the Peal Jam stuff out, cause it just wasn't relevant to 3F.