Since roughly 1994 I have been a fan of Pearl Jam, and I have followed them avidly throughout their career. Not that I am uncritical in my love of the band. While I hold their first five albums in the highest of esteem, I have found their post-Riot Act material to be rather patchier, with the self-titled effort arguably the weakest of the bunch, despite the presence of a strong single in Worldwide Suicide. Nevertheless, I was much impressed by Gigaton, and the band seem to have been yet further galvanised with Dark Matter, a tempestuous outing that blows away the years like so much chaff.
The Package
Often ones for innovative packaging, whether it be the gorgeous medical pamphlet of Vitalogy, the massive fold-out vinyl sleeve of No Code, or the glow-in-the-dark Backspacer, Pearl Jam have never really embraced bonus content (with the exception of reissues), preferring to keep the focus on the album. Here, however, Pearl Jam have opted to include a bonus disc featuring an Atmos mix of the album. This ties in neatly with the immersive exhibition the band opened in London and is a heavy lure for fans with the appropriate equipment.
In contrast, the packaging is a fairly standard digibook affair – hardly elaborate by the band’s past standards – and with fairly generic artwork. On that basis, the standalone CD, quite frankly, is probably not worth the high price – currently around £20 in the UK – while the deluxe edition is more in line with what you might expect to pay for a double disc effort and, with the blu ray including both Atmos and HD audio, this is surely the version to buy.
The Album
Dark Matter opens in an eerie haze, before a pool break announces the arrival of stabbing opener Sacred Of Fear – arguably the band’s most explosively direct opener since Brain Of J. announced the arrival of Yield. With the whole band on blistering form, it is nevertheless worth noting Eddie’s nervy, energetic performance, and it’s impossible to hear the track without picturing him, centre-stage, clinging on to the mic-stand for dear life as the band rage around him. The tightly wound React, Respond keeps things moving at a brisk pace, pairing a stripped back verse with an explosive chorus that harks back to the days of Vs. suggesting that Andrew Watt’s claims of having “kicked the band’s asses” were not mere hyperbole. The band take things down a notch with the gorgeous Wreckage, a heartfelt ballad that nods to I Am Mine’s memorable melody. It’s a lovely moment, and it allows a little light to penetrate the haze before the band swing back into a darker groove with the title track. Driven by the thunderous rhythm section, who seem to be channelling the excellent You Are via Royal Blood, and possessed of a simple, yet gloriously addictive chorus, it sees the band firing on all cylinders, while the climactic solo simply roars from the speakers. In contrast, the mid-tempo Won’t Tell is a slower, sweeter number that sits somewhere between Neil Young grit and the glorious anthems of the Manic Street Preachers circa Everything Must Go, not least in the subtly deployed string section, and it provides a scene-stealing finale for the first half of the record.
Opening the album’s second half, Upper Hand emerges from a rippling passage that nods to The Who’s Won’t Get Fooled Again, before segueing into something altogether more contemplative. Coupled with typically thought-provoking lyrics and an air of gentle longing, it’s easily one of the most beautiful Pearl Jam songs since Better Man, and the understated lead work that dapples the surface is unutterably gorgeous. It’s followed by the mid-tempo Waiting For Stevie, which has a strong melody and an anthemic vibe reminiscent of Given To Fly, only to be eclipsed by the ferocious Running, which simply explodes with a punky vigour that is as unexpected as it is refreshing. The sound of a band revelling in a shared purpose that has now spanned some thirty years, it’s a satisfyingly splenetic outpouring. In contrast, the whimsical Something Special (a co-write with Watt and ex Chilli Pepper Josh Klinghoffer), is a bit of an oddity, relying on a similar pacing to Handbags And Gladrags, and it bears the dubious honour of being the album’s weakest moment. Things soon get back on track, however, with Got To Give, another track which, with its acoustic strum and gritty leads, recalls the band’s output circa Yield, while Eddie really puts everything into the vocal performance as it hurtles towards its climax. The album closes on Setting Sun – not only a strong closer, but an album highlight. With its shuffling rhythm and spacey guitars building to a finale that has the emotional heft of Black given all the more weight by the intervening years of experience, it’s the perfect conclusion to an incredibly strong record, and it leaves you feeling as if you have been on a journey through Pearl Jam’s storied back catalogue alongside the band themselves.
A heavier album than we’ve seen from Pearl Jam in some time yet underpinned with the emotional depth we have long come to expect, Dark Matter is arguably the strongest album the band have released in some time and certainly since the criminally underrated Riot Act. A band who have evolved and matured alongside their fans, Pearl Jam’s strength (much like that of REM), is their ability to cut through any notions of rock stardom, communicating on the same level as their fans and involving them closely in their world. Ultimately, while all too few artists have managed to effectively retain their humanity and empathy in a business seemingly designed to strip musicians of both, Dark Matter once again highlights Pearl Jam’s ability to speak from the heart. 9/10
Blu ray bonus disc
I must confess, I did wonder quite how the Amos disc may work, given that the relative success of a surround mix depends at least as much on the source material as it does on the engineer. For example, while Pink Floyd, Depeche Mode, Nine Inch Nails, and Flaming Lips all have superlative surround mixes to their name, the likes of the Offspring (who included a surround sound disc with their greatest hits album) have fared less well, simply because their music had little need for the greater sense of space allowed by such a mix.
Menus and bonus
The Dark Matter disc includes two options – a high res LPCM stereo version and a Dolby Atmos mix that neatly folds down to 5.1, depending on the system used*. This review covers the Atmos cut.
Otherwise, there are no frills to be found on this bonus disc. The top menu simply loads the album art, with the track listing running down the centre, options for either LPCM or Atmos, and a looped sample of the intro to Wreckage playing in the background. Leave it long enough, and it’ll simply start playing the album. There are no other features in evidence.
Atmos
Once you hit play, you’re taken to the main play screen. It features a basic animation of the album art, alternating with a static screen featuring the album title (not, annoyingly, the current track title). It’s pretty lazy to be honest, but as most are not here for the visuals, it’s not likely to matter too much.
The Atmos mix offers an interesting insight into the construction of the album, but only occasionally does it feel like an essential take on the record. As might be expected, it is the punky cuts are the least effective in this approach, with the opening pair of Sacred of Fear and React, Respond actually losing power as the wiry riffs, now tempered by reverb, leach into the rears. That said, the way Eddie’s pre-chorus “ooohs” swell around the listener during the latter track is cool, while the concluding solo envelopes the listener in a manner that is as unexpected as it is impressive. Overall, however, such direct music benefits from a narrow sound field, and this is no exception. In contrast, when the band take their foot off the gas is when the Atmos mix comes into its own. The lovely Wreckage, for example, is layered with acoustic guitars, backing vocals, and keys, and the broad palette afforded by Atmos really allows the track to open up. Similarly, the ultra-modern pulse of the title track blazes, with tremelo washes shooting around the speakers, and Eddie’s vocal nailed to the centre. It’s a cool moment and its follow up, Won’t Tell, is also impressive – Andrew Watt having layered the piece with subtle orchestral elements, although they aren’t brought to the fore as much as might be expected from such a mix.
The second half, which is more reflective, is definitely the more effective, although the heavier moments still suffer. It starts with the opening swell of Upper Hand, which sees the song slowly take shape like the light patterns of the cover, while the anthemic Waiting For Stevie sounds more like Soundarden than ever – its rippling, phased guitar to the fore, and Eddie’s voice wreathed in a tape echo that slaps back from the rears. Unfortunately, Running (a punkish highlight of the stereo mix), loses something in translation which no amount of gang vocals across the sound-field can help. Conversely, Something Special expands beautifully, eclipsing its stereo counterpart, and emerging as a more well-rounded piece of music. Better still, the closing pair of Got To Give and Setting Sun really sound great, thanks to the expanded depth of the format, the latter in particularly coming across as a cinematic curtain closer, with its subtle percussion and airy keys.
Conclusions
Overall, Pearl Jam are not a band you tend to think of when it comes to surround sound mixes and with good reason. As it stands, the result is something of a two-edged sword, nicely bringing out the depth of the quieter passages, while serving to neuter the punkier moments. For fans, it’s not an unwelcome bonus, but you’d be hard pressed to describe it as essential, and the definitive version remains the stereo take. Happily, with that included as high-res audio, the blu ray remains a solid bonus for those with the equipment.
*Note: my system is a little old for Atmos, so this review is for the 5.1 fold down that Atmos so thoughtfully allows.
