Yield by Pearl Jam
Yield is the fifth studio album by the American alternative rock band Pearl Jam, released on February 3, 1998. Following a short promotional tour for its previous album, No Code (1996), Pearl Jam recorded Yield throughout 1997 at Studio Litho and Studio X in Seattle, Washington. The album was proclaimed as a return to the band's early, straightforward rock sound, and marked a more collaborative effort from the band as opposed to relying heavily on frontman Eddie Vedder to compose the songs. The lyrics deal with contemplative themes, albeit seen in a more positive manner compared to the band's earlier work. Yield received positive reviews and debuted at number two on the Billboard 200, but while like No Code the album soon began dropping down the charts, Yield eventually outsold its predecessor. The band did more promotion for the album compared to No Code, including a return to full-scale touring and the release of a music video for the song "Do the Evolution". The record has been certified platinum by the RIAA in the United States. The album is Pearl Jam's last release with drummer Jack Irons, who left the band during the album's promotional tour. For its fifth album, Pearl Jam again worked with producer Brendan O'Brien, whom the band had worked with on its previous three records. Yield was recorded throughout 1997 in Seattle, Washington at Studio X and Studio Litho, the latter of which is owned by guitarist Stone Gossard. The album was then mixed by O'Brien at his mixing facility at Southern Tracks in Atlanta, Georgia. The album would be the last collaboration with O'Brien for several years. They would not work with the producer again until he was brought onboard in 2008 to remix their debut album Ten and to produce 2009's Backspacer. Compared with Vitalogy and No Code, Yield represented more of a team effort between all members of the group. Lead vocalist Eddie Vedder had made the final decisions for the albums Vitalogy and No Code; however, at the end of the No Code recording sessions, Vedder suggested to bassist Jeff Ament that it would be better for the other members to write and bring in more complete songs so Vedder would be under less pressure to finish the songs. Ament said that "everybody took that to heart," and O'Brien added that most of the songs came to the studio finished. Ament also said that Vedder's reaction to the rest of the band's new material kept "everybody energized about their place in the band." Vedder worked with the other band members on their own material before work was started on his. Guitarist Mike McCready noticed a change in Vedder's attitude during the recording of Yield, stating, "I used to be afraid of him and not want to confront him on things ... We talk more now, and hang out ... He seems very, very centered now."
That Pearl Jam originally named themselves after the NBA player Mookie Blaylock makes a poetic kind of sense: Of all the bands to come out of the alternative-rock boom in the early ’90s, none felt so deeply connected to sports as they did—their focus, their fluidity, their kinetic energy and positive release. For as dark as the material on <i>Ten</i> is—portraits of homelessness (“Even Flow”) and mental illness (“Why Go”), family dysfunction (“Alive”) and teenage alienation elevated to physical violence (“Jeremy”)—the overall spirit of their 1991 debut is one of brightness and vitality, of rising above. As the story goes, singer Eddie Vedder—a gas station attendant in San Diego who’d never met his bandmates before joining them in Seattle—came up with his first round of lyrics for their demo tape while he was out surfing, his feet still covered in sand as he laid down vocals. Where decades of pop culture had split notions of male identity into macho and sensitive, jocks and nerds, Pearl Jam, in their own unwitting way, brought them together: Here were five very earnest young guys, desperate to take you above the rim.<br /> And for all the stereotypes of Seattle rock as grungy and monochromatic, <i>Ten</i> (its title a tribute to Blaylock’s jersey number) has a broad palette: syncopated hard rock (“Once”), fragile ballads (“Black”), Hendrix-indebted psychedelia (“Deep”). Where Kurt Cobain ironised conventional guitar solos by purposefully screwing his up, Mike McCready plays with the passion and enthusiasm of someone who still believes in them—a distinction that not only kept continuity with classic rock, but made Pearl Jam more akin to Guns N’ Roses and Metallica than, say, the Melvins. And while his subject matter was intimate, Vedder never sang like he belonged anywhere smaller than an arena, creating a prototype for basically every famous rock vocalist in his wake.<br /> He later worried it was all too much—too open, too personal, too vulnerable. But the lack of emotional distance is part of what makes <i>Ten</i> so distinct. Prior to Vedder joining the band, guitarist Stone Gossard and bassist Jeff Ament had played in Mother Love Bone alongside vocalist Andy Wood, who died of a drug overdose in 1990. They were looking for a new beginning; Vedder was looking for a chance. Standing onstage at the Pinkpop festival two years later, in the summer of 1992, around the time that <i>Ten</i> was certified gold, Vedder, gasping for air, turns his Polaroid camera on a crowd in the tens of thousands. He’d later tell an interviewer backstage that it was overwhelming to look out at such a sea of people—as if, in disbelief, he’d needed those pictures as proof that it had really happened. At a moment when mainstream rock was in upheaval, Pearl Jam’s real rebellion was to live.
