The 1990s: a decade synonymous with grunge, the rise of Wu-Tang Clan, the introspective sounds of Radiohead, and the ubiquitous “Wonderwall.” The music of this era was a vibrant tapestry of sounds and emotions, reflecting a generation coming into its own. But what does this diverse soundtrack truly say about the 90s, and why does it continue to resonate today? The podcast 60 Songs That Explain the ’90s delves into these very questions, and it’s back with 30 new episodes to further explore the decade’s musical landscape. Hosted by Ringer music writer and self-proclaimed ’90s survivor Rob Harvilla, each episode embarks on a journey through the defining tracks of his youth, blending insightful analysis with personal anecdotes. In Episode 81 of 60 Songs That Explain the ’90s, Harvilla, joined by Steven Hyden, turns his attention to Pearl Jam’s enigmatic anthem, “Yellow Ledbetter.”
To understand “Yellow Ledbetter,” one must first understand Pearl Jam, and to understand Pearl Jam, you must delve into the fertile, yet complex, history of the late 80s and early 90s Seattle rock scene. Seattle at that time was undeniably the epicenter of cool in the rock world, birthing grunge – a genre and lifestyle that became a defining force for teenage identity, even if begrudgingly embraced by the mainstream. This backstory, rich with mythology and raw energy, has been extensively chronicled through books, movies, and podcasts. We won’t get too lost in the deep dive today, but for those eager to fully immerse themselves in the Pearl Jam saga or the broader Seattle narrative, two books come highly recommended. Steven Hyden’s 2022 release, Long Road: Pearl Jam and the Soundtrack of a Generation, offers an excellent exploration. Harvilla specifically praises Hyden’s chapter connecting Eddie Vedder’s journey to the Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga rendition of A Star Is Born, portraying Vedder as both Ally and Jackson Maine. The second recommendation is Mark Yarm’s Everybody Loves Our Town: An Oral History of Grunge, published in 2011, a super-informative and gritty account of the scene.
Within the pages of Everybody Loves Our Town lies a particularly memorable anecdote, one that perfectly encapsulates the raw, often uncouth, spirit of early grunge. It involves the bass player from the Seattle band Cat Butt and a white Camaro. While touring with Mudhoney, Cat Butt found themselves in Davis, California. For reasons lost to the haze of LSD, Cat Butt bassist Dean Gunderson, a towering figure at 6-foot-7, became inexplicably enraged by a white Camaro parked nearby. As Gunderson himself recounts, “The car offended me, I don’t know.” His response? To defecate on the hood of the offending vehicle. The story continues with the unfortunate Camaro owner attempting to dislodge the unwelcome deposit by reversing and slamming on the brakes, only to have it roll towards the windshield wipers and become lodged there. A truly grunge moment.
This anecdote serves as a fitting introduction to Cat Butt and their song “Big Cigar.” The raw, chaotic energy of the story mirrors the sound of the music. Listen to “Big Cigar,” and it’s hard not to imagine a white Camaro desperately maneuvering in a futile attempt to remove a bassist’s deposit from its hood.
This is grunge in its essence: raw, unfiltered, and unapologetically uncouth. But to truly understand the origins of Pearl Jam and “Yellow Ledbetter,” we must rewind further, to the band Green River. Formed in the mid-80s, Green River released a couple of EPs and the 1988 album Rehab Doll. Though relatively unknown outside of Seattle and only moderately successful even within the local scene, they were a pivotal band. While their catalog might be a “low Good Songs Percentage situation,” as Harvilla playfully puts it, they did produce gems like “Swallow My Pride.”
In 1987, Green River opened for Jane’s Addiction in Los Angeles. This was before Jane’s Addiction’s mainstream breakthrough, before “Been Caught Stealing,” Lollapalooza, and the term “alternative rock” fully entered the lexicon. As Green River watched Jane’s Addiction command a crowd of 2,000 hometown fans, a schism formed within the band. Some members were awestruck, declaring Jane’s Addiction the greatest band ever, while others were vehemently opposed, finding their sound abhorrent. This division led to Green River’s breakup. The members who disliked Jane’s Addiction, including vocalist Mark Arm, went on to form Mudhoney, the “lovely and pugnacious and supremely excellent and Cat Butt–friendly band Mudhoney.” In 1988, Mudhoney released their epoch-defining debut single, “Touch Me I’m Sick.”
Meanwhile, the Green River members who were impressed by Jane’s Addiction – bassist Jeff Ament and guitarists Stone Gossard and Bruce Fairweather – formed Mother Love Bone. Mother Love Bone, fronted by the flamboyant rock star Andrew Wood, can be described as Seattle’s answer to Jane’s Addiction, or perhaps even Guns N’ Roses. Their song “Chloe Dancer / Crown of Thorns” stands as a testament to their potential, a true highlight in their discography. However, tragedy struck in March 1990, just before the release of Mother Love Bone’s highly anticipated debut album, Apple. Andrew Wood died of a heroin overdose. The chapter in Everybody Loves Our Town detailing Wood’s death and its aftermath is particularly poignant, especially contrasted with the surrounding tales of rock and roll debauchery.
In tribute to Wood, a supergroup called Temple of the Dog was formed, uniting friends and former bandmates including Jeff Ament, Stone Gossard, guitarist Mike McCready, and Soundgarden’s Chris Cornell. And then, Eddie Vedder entered the picture. Hailing from Evanston, Illinois, and then residing in San Diego, Vedder was a soulful surfer with a carefully guarded rock star ambition simmering beneath the surface. Influenced by The Who and The Clash, Vedder, with his broad ideological spectrum, connected with Gossard, McCready, and Ament. Temple of the Dog became a one-album project, with Cornell returning to Soundgarden. Their song “Hunger Strike,” featuring Vedder, gained traction on MTV. From this collaboration, Pearl Jam emerged. Vedder, Gossard, McCready, Ament, and drummer Dave Krusen (the first of many drummers for the band) initially called themselves Mookie Blaylock before settling on the name Pearl Jam.
But as Harvilla wisely states, let’s not get bogged down in the backstory. The point is, in the early 90s, a young, impressionable audience, including a 13-year-old Harvilla, was being introduced to this seismic shift in music. MTV became the conduit, broadcasting the sounds of Seattle to the masses. Pearl Jam, with their raw energy and introspective lyrics, became a central figure in this movement. And within Pearl Jam’s discography, “Yellow Ledbetter” stands as a particularly intriguing song, a track that, while not explicitly discussed in detail in this excerpt, is undoubtedly a key piece of the 90s musical puzzle, deserving of its place in the conversation of 60 Songs That Explain the ’90s.
To delve deeper into “Yellow Ledbetter” and the broader context of 90s music, be sure to listen to the full Episode 81 of 60 Songs That Explain the ’90s. Follow the podcast on Spotify to catch new episodes every Wednesday, as Harvilla continues to unpack the most important songs of a transformative decade.
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Rob HarvillaRob Harvilla is a senior staff writer at The Ringer and the host/author of ‘60 Songs That Explain the ’90s,’ though the podcast is now called ‘60 Songs That Explain the ’90s: The 2000s,’ a name everyone loves. He lives with his family in Columbus, Ohio, by choice.
