Prologue: Eulogy in Song at Virginia Beach
The day had come for Pearl Jam to return to the stage. In the preceding weeks the rumors surrounding this show had been accorded more weight than a normal first show of a tour as a result of the Roskilde tragedy which sent Pearl Jam to cancel the final dates of the European leg, and go off into seclusion for the two months up to the beginning of the U.S. leg. No press conferences to answer questions of the incident, or MTV interviews to talk about the band's future, only a short statement offering the band's condolences to the victims' families. With no words from the band, questions arose between fans of would they cancel the U.S. dates, or even go so far as to break-up. Now in Virginia Beach, the questions turned to the mystery surrounding this show: how would the band react on stage, making their first public appearance since Denmark? Would the set list consist of only slower, introspective songs? For the more loyal fans, this show meant everything. Out of the public sphere since their last tour in '98, their latest record, Binaural, received little attention, with dwindling record sales for each of their last three records, and larger inquiries into the relevance of a "grunge" band in the year 2000. Had Pearl Jam become irrelevant, an anachronism of the times? Even the weather -- rainy, cloudy, and dark -- accompanied this unsure, almost somber mood as well as offering a reminder to Roskilde. A tension was certainly present on that slick, muddy hill waiting for Pearl Jam to respond to the questions.
Would they open with, Of the Girl, a song off Binaural which they had opened a majority of European shows? This would be the safe choice. As they walked on stage concealed behind a blue lighting, under the dark, foreboding sky, Eddie Vedder emerged having a let a beard grow, a sign of his isolation in Spain. The first chord was struck, certainly not Of the Girl, but a song offering a more majestic sound and a greater meaning, Long Road. Beginning slow in tempo, quietly:
And I wished for so long. Cannot stay.
All the precious moments. Cannot stay.
It's not like wings have fallen. Cannot stay.
But still something's missing. I cannot say...
The tempo and strength build upon the first verse:
Holding hands are daughters and sons.
And their faiths are falling down, down, down, down.
I have wished for so long. How I wished for you today.
As a song to lost loved ones it provided an emotional opus to reveal everything, everything unanswered in the past couple of months, the song became transformed into a self-conscious confession, a catharsis of stored up pain and guilt, a cry out to the fans for comfort and understanding:
All the friends and family.
All the memories going round, round, round, round.
I have wished for so long. How I wised for you today.
Each verse expanding on the last, the song conveyed their experience at Roskilde but was also an acknowledgement of the journey the band had dealt with for ten years, the ups and downs:
And the wind keeps roaring. And the sky keeps turning grey.
And the sun is setting. The sun will rise another day.
These images in their simplicity explained more, and expressed a deeper passion than any verbal statements to the media could have supplied. A personal communication directly to the fans through music. They were words of grief, but also a renewal, a continuation of the journey, as the song winds down to a quiet serenity:
I have wished for so long. How I wish for you today.
I have wished for so long. How I wish for them today.
Will I walk the long road? We all walk the long road.
Will I walk the long road? We all walk the long road.
Will I walk the long road?...
We all walk the long road...the long road.
The moment was eternal. To understand why this band is the exception in today's world, why they are powerful, and unique, one needs to understand the emotion of that moment, between the band and their fans. An answer to all doubters of the ability of music, at its best, to communicate and transcend.
--PWD, May '01
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