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Today I’m going to talk about how a certain sound – even just a chord – can evoke feelings of sickness, disbelief, realization, disgust, discomfort, and cluelessness all at once. It’s time for Pearl Jam “Jeremy.”
Before I get into this, I need to share that I have major respect for Pearl Jam. Admittedly, there were moments when it was hard not to get a little tired of their constant airplay. It wasn’t quite a U2 “One” situation, but between (roughly) 1992 and 1995, flipping on a Top 40 station would almost certainly get you an earful of “Alive,” “Daughter,” or “Better Man.”[1] There were also somewhat lesser known tunes that absolutely rocked, like “I Got Id” and “Yellow Ledbetter.” And Pearl Jam’s not done, by the way. They’ve continued, post-grunge, to serve up satisfying sounds. Their recent single, “Super Blood Wolf Moon,” is super solid.
But back to “Jeremy.” I was 11 when this song came out, so I had no idea what it was about. I only knew that it was popular and that I liked singing along to it. Some of the imagery stood out for me – like when Jeremy “gnashed his teeth and bit the recess lady’s breast.” But when Eddie Vedder sang, “Jeremy spoke in class today,” I never asked myself, “What did Jeremy say?” I didn’t even wonder about it.
And then.
I saw the video.
Now, I did not have cable until late 1996, so my access to MTV was limited. But around that time, my family and I occasionally headed out to Long Island to visit a close friend. Her house offered beautiful views of Long Island Sound. But my sister and I, typical youngsters that we were, scoffed at the outdoors and preferred to head straight for the TV room whenever we visited. It was a smallish room with comfy brown leather furniture that you sunk into, and . . . it had cable. Which meant that it had MTV. We would sit for hours watching music videos while the grown-ups chatted outside.
So we’re watching MTV and the “Jeremy” video comes on. The song starts out with some pops of chords that drop gently yet ominously to let you know something meaningful is coming. Then the bass kicks in and then the drums and Eddie starts singing and we’re off.
I think the first thing I probably noticed was that Eddie Vedder is kind of frightening in this video. He does weird things with his eyes. There are lights flashing on and off under his face. And I could tell from just the first 30 seconds that Eddie clearly understood something about this song – and the story that it told – that I’d missed.
The video is intense, with Jeremy running around shirtless in the woods, screaming at his parents (who appear to be ignoring him), scribbling furiously in class while kids point and laugh at him. He thrashes about, he sets fires. I remember that I couldn’t get over how young the boy looked – because he also seemed strangely mature. Somehow knowing. Perhaps corrupted. Definitely no longer innocent, and maybe even a little sinister.
And then, towards the end of the video, comes the classroom scene. The song is winding down, and as the notes crawl toward the last chords that will eventually mimic those that kicked off the song, you see the faces of the children in the classroom. They are no longer laughing. Now they look shocked, and their clothes are suddenly splattered in blood. And I feel . . . incredibly nauseous, like someone coated the inside of my stomach with oil. I am horrified. I feel stupid. Then I feel ashamed of my stupidity. I realize that I have completely missed what this song is about, that I failed to appreciate that Jeremy is a tragic teen figure who took his own life. That was how he “spoke” in class that day. And the feeling as this video closes is so raw and so deep that, even today, all it takes is hearing the last few measures of the song for me to start feeling queasy and uncertain and disturbed.
But “Jeremy” was more than a memorable, horrifying music video. The song was based on a true story of a boy who shot himself in front of his classmates in 1991. I learned this a couple of years ago while poking around online, doing some 90s trivia investigation. When I read the story and realized that the disturbing scene from the video had transpired in real life, that same sickening feeling that Pearl Jam’s song and video had evoked swelled up all over again.
But isn’t that the point? As unpleasant as that feeling in my stomach was, it was the right result for the song. Thinking about this makes me realize that music opens a different dimension, conveying history in ways that allow us to feel it – which is important so that we don’t forget it. Despite the dread this impactful song dug up in me, it showed me that the 90s – like so many eras that we understand more deeply through music – have their own messages that are powerful enough to still reach us today.
[1] While perhaps overplayed, “Better Man” remains special to me because it is my personal best in karaoke. The first time I sang it, my friend looked at me in semi-disbelief and said, “I think you just found your song.” The crowd seemed to agree. Granted, this was 8pm on a Wednesday, so it’s possible the crowd cheering me on was less a crowd and more a pair. Whatever. It’s still my best.