The Cavern
Rock & Words
ALICE IN CHAINS (Album, 1995)
Artist: Alice In Chains (C+)
Recording Dates: Apr – Aug ‘95
Release Date: November 7th, 1995. USA
Record Label: Columbia
Producer: Toby Wright, AIC
Rating: 9
Era: Grunge (1989-???)
Subgenre: Grunge (1989-1997)
Best Song: Over Now, Heaven Beside You, or Grind
Tracklist: 1) Grind; 2) Brush Away; 3) Sludge Factory; 4) Heaven Beside You; 5) Head Creeps; 6) Again 7) Shame In You 8) God Am; 9) So Close; 10) Nothin’ Song; 11) Frogs; 12) Over Now.
Alice in Chains was the most diverse band of the Grunge movement because it wasn't rooted in a fixed genre like Punk (Nirvana) or Hard Rock (Soundgarden and Pearl Jam), but rather in Metal. As such, they could explore every nook and cranny of that vast sub-universe. They had no limits, except for the creativity of Cantrell and Staley, and for this reason, they were able to reinvent themselves album after album (almost song after song), as they did from the dark and almost violent Dirt to the delicate and emotive EP Jar of Flies.
We've already analyzed how, after very energetic debuts, many Grunge bands placed their masterpieces on their second releases. And while it wasn't a universal rule, many failed to live up to expectations with their third album. Without being a string of bad albums, the third releases didn't reach the excellence, power, and freshness of their predecessors, and in a way, they began to mark the decline of the ephemeral movement. This is the case with Alice in Chains' self-titled album.
Initially, I was determined to give it a 10, but despite having no filler tracks and generally maintaining a very high standard in every song, I don't think it reaches the same level of perfection. After the LP Dirt and the EP Jar of Flies, AIC seemed to have positioned themselves at the forefront of the movement with such tremendous releases. However, shortly after the release of Jar of Flies (the first EP in history to reach #1 on the Billboard charts), Layne entered heroin rehab. They had to cancel their summer tour with Metallica and Suicidal Tendencies the day before it was scheduled to begin so their vocalist could recover. In fact, they hadn't been able to tour properly since 1993 due to this problem. On the other hand, Jerry Cantrell had just broken up with his girlfriend of seven years and wasn't exactly in a good mood. The band went on hiatus. Staley joined the supergroup Mad Season, along with Mike McCready of Pearl Jam, John Baker of the Walkabouts, and Barrett Martin of the Screaming Trees, with whom he recorded a moderately successful album. Cantrell began preparing demos for a potential solo album, which he started jamming on in January with Mike Inez and Sean Kinney. In April, Jerry and Layne talked and smoothed things over. They hadn't really had a falling out, but they felt they were betraying their shared project, AIC, with their respective solo endeavors, and there was resentment. So Staley said goodbye to Mad Season, and Cantrell redirected the songs he was working on toward Alice In Chains' third album.
That same April, they entered Bad Animals Studios in Seattle with Toby Wright as producer. Besides the internal demons that overwhelmed them, there were external ones. The record label was pressuring them for a new album, and the pressure from fans and critics demanded at least the same standards as Dirt and Jar of Flies. And if that weren't enough, there was the pressure of Cobain's death, which left them as the only band capable of saving Grunge, which was already in freefall. Alice In Chains ended up being the last album with Staley and the first LP with Mike Inez on bass after Michael Starr's departure. It's a strange album. I can't say it's bad; in fact, as I mentioned, I was going to give it a 10, but frankly, it's not on the level of Dirt. Listening to it closely, you miss Layne at his best. Here he's already diminished by drugs, and without the brutal level of the previous albums. In some songs, although the melody is good, those masterful vocal hooks are absent, and the vocal range isn't pushed too far anymore. Cantrell does his part with those bittersweet harmonies and tremendous guitar work to make the songs work, but it's clear that the duo here no longer sparks the magic of the previous two albums, and if it were only for Layne, several tracks would be repetitive and flat. At that point, Staley really didn't care about the band, but Mad Season hadn't been what he expected to fill the void left by drugs either. He was starting to hit rock bottom, and Cobain's death, despite them not being close friends, had left him very depressed. He knew he would be the next martyr of Grunge, and the lyrics are his testament, reflecting that existential void he found himself in, perhaps less raw than the previous albums, but perhaps more profound and reflective; I repeat, he knew he would be next. The best tracks are definitely Cantrell's, and in some ways they're the softest and most melodic on the album—not exactly acoustic, but close. That's why this was labeled AIC's "softest" album (Soft, considering tracks like "Grind"?). All things considered, I don't think there's any filler. The songs are top-notch, with some devastating riffs, mind-blowing guitar solos, and truly dark moments. Cantrell's tracks have some of the best vocal harmonies of the '90s, and at least "It's Over Now" and "Heaven Beside You" seem to me to be the best in their brief discography, with the exception of "Man In The Box," my personal favorite. In a way, it's AIC's most varied album, but not many saw that as a positive thing at the time.
"Grind" kicks things off like a true avalanche, with that apocalyptic, quasi-metal riff that knocks you off your feet. While the main riff is dark, dense, and suffocating in combination with the rhythm section, Jerry creates formidable and haunting wah-wah arrangements. At :35, the vocals enter, this time Jerry's, with a timbre very similar to Layne's, adding a desperate edge. Staley provides backing vocals, dragging out the last syllable of the verses with a macabre, zombie-like effect, and harmonizing as only this pair can in the intoxicating choruses. It's curious how the dark anguish of the verses contrasts with a warmer, brighter tone during the choruses. At 2:50, we have a superb solo from Jerry, which starts from the end of the chorus, showcasing great mastery of the wah, before returning to the dense riff. The lyrics are tremendous and prophetic: “In the darkest hole, you'd be well advised, Not to plan my funeral before the body dies, yeah.” True, it's not Layne's song, it's Jerry's, and he was referring more to them not announcing AIC's demise prematurely, given the numerous rumors about their breakup, but in hindsight, it gives you goosebumps. A great song, heartbreakingly powerful, where everyone's voices blend perfectly, although it's a bit long.
Next up is “Brush Away”, a more dynamic song with an arpeggiated opening that immediately explodes into a great rhythm and a fantastic interplay between Mike and Sean. The bassline has a swaying quality that lends it a kind of darkness, and it blends seamlessly with the guitar's tremendous fuzz. The effect they achieve is very cool, rounded out by Layne's melody. The thing is, beyond that, the song doesn't offer much. The chorus, sure, features a nice instrumental scale that builds to a menacing tone. But other than that, there are no bridges, hooks, or variations. The solo is somewhat experimental, again using a wah pedal, but it's not one of Cantrell's best. The lyrics are once again about Layne's heroin addiction, obvious in the choruses: “I try to get away, and yet I stick around, So fall and crawl away, and brush away loose ground.” In the verses, he describes the effects of addiction, with the resulting loss of responsibility, blaming it all on the drug. They're not bad, but they don't have the same terrifying effect on me as their previous albums. All in all, the song is dynamic and powerful, but it's missing something…
With “Sludge Factory”, they return to a good level, with a cataclysmic riff and that terrifying atmosphere of their earlier albums. Cantrell constructs a simple riff, but one that turns out tremendous with that power chord that vibrates at the end. Again, there aren't too many changes, but this time they achieve greater combinations by making more variations in intonation (with those falsettos), extending the syllables, with some time signature changes, the “by the way, by the way, by the way,” the “uhhhhUUUHHHuhhh ah yeah” in perfect harmony, and the greater power of the choruses, the whispers at 4:40… In other words, they manage to fit in more hooks that give the song a lot of vitality despite the slow tempo. The solo is very strange, dissonant, and unsettling, but it suits the song well and increases that feeling of claustrophobia. The lyrics are somewhat cryptic, but again, there are lines that are chilling: “Now the body of one soul I adore wants to die, You have always told me you'd not live past 25, I say stay long enough to repay all who cause strife.” The ending, with its whispered section and another guitar solo, is a bit long, stretching past the 7-minute mark, but the song itself is very good, recapturing that incredibly dark edge of AIC.
Then there's one of the album's highlights. “Heaven Beside You” is one of the band's and grunge's emblematic tracks. It's another Jerry song, sung by him, in a cold and desolate tone. The acoustic combination with that slide guitar to build the riff is masterful, hypnotic, beautiful, and sad all at once, with a strong blues influence (Blues and Grunge!!???). The lyrics tell of his breakup with his girlfriend, with whom he was in a relationship for 7 years. As such, the song has those chiaroscuro effects that go hand in hand with the lyrics, with superb ascending bridges that build tension until the powerful, heavy, fuzz-laden electric bursts: “So there's problems in your life, That's fucked up, and I'm not blind.” Huge, resigned verses that still reflect his love for her: “Do what you wanna do, Go out and seek your truth, When I'm down and blue, Rather be me than you,” not without a touch of irony, and with phenomenal choruses where Layne joins in with tremendous harmonies: “Like the coldest winter chill, Heaven beside you... Hell within.” Wow, what a line, a five-word poem that narrates the difficulty of the relationship, where you can't live with her, but you can't live without her either. The handling of timing and intensity is incredible, returning to the bluesy and calm section after the explosions. The solo is chaotic, bitter, and incredibly powerful. In short, a great song where the instrumentation and lyrics go hand in hand, taking us from heaven to hell in a matter of seconds, which is a testament to the band's great intelligence. A fantastic track.
We continue with “Head Creeps”, where we return to the darkest side of Alice In Chains. A thick, violent riff, bordering on metal. “No more time… just one more time,” sings Layne, before launching into the verses with hurried phrasing, in bittersweet harmony with Jerry, the guitar mirroring the vocal melody word for word, yet achieving a powerful effect. The bridge at 2:10 is chilling, devastating, raising the intensity, although the song maintains a hypnotic mid-tempo throughout. Perhaps it lacks a few hooks to add more variety. The lyrics are bleak, this time entirely written by Layne. Somewhat cryptic, but they speak of how the media and the public attack him without really knowing what's going on in his life: “So let me be defamed, Your redundancy stains, Tired of infantile claims, Like puppets on a string.” The coda is terrifying, with screams and that distant, cave-like vocal effect. The drumming is colossal, perhaps Kinney's best moment on this album. It's a bit long, and the lack of changes makes the length stand out, but the apocalyptic atmosphere, in my opinion, justifies it.
"Again" follows, with another monumental riff. It's only two chords, but the way Jerry attacks the guitar and Sean pounds the drums creates a volcanic combination. Layne sings with a chilling coldness. And it's chilling if you pay attention to the anguish of the lyrics. Staley was truly in a bottomless pit: "Hey, let them do it again, yeah, Hey, you said you were my friend, Hey, turn me upside down, Oh Hey, feelin' so down." The vocal melody is addictive, with the harmonies exploding into those sort of rising and falling choruses. At 2:10 there is a break, the guitar keeps pounding and then comes the solo with some fun “doooh doops” that contrast with the darkness of the song. The song is incredibly dark, but there's something about the riff, the explosions, and those "doooh doops" that sounds almost disco. That contrast makes the song sound massive.
After so much power, they slow things down a bit with "Shame In You", a ballad that offers a breather. The verses are very calm, with the guitar shimmering in a dialogue with the drums. Layne sings somewhat listlessly, stretching out the syllables enormously, and then raising his voice a tone to avoid sounding too flat. Then the guitar is loaded with delay, adds an arrangement, and the song begins to build in intensity for what would be the chorus, although it's more of a second part, since it lasts as long as, or even longer than, the verses. It doesn't quite explode, but the guitars and drums are much more powerful. Jerry finishes with a mini-guitar solo, and we return to the cadence of the verses. The song is good at achieving its depressive intention, but it's a bit monotonous. because of that kind of tonal uniformity that Layne maintains throughout the entire song.
“God Am” is perhaps the most grunge-influenced track on the album, with a pounding, very raw riff. The verses are very strummed, and I don't particularly like the melody, but Sean attacks with a great drum roll, and we enter the more melodic chorus, with layers of guitar, one with fuzz in the background and another screeching in the high register. They basically repeat the same pattern throughout the song, except at the end with a hint of a guitar solo. It's perhaps one of the simplest moments on AIC, but I don't think it's anything to write home about.
“So Close” reminds me of Pearl Jam’s VS in the opening riff, though I can’t quite place which song. The riff remains the same, slightly slower for the verses, and then they shift gears and add more darkness to the chorus: “Yeah, so close now.” The lyrics are a kind of ironic take on the record label’s pressure for a new album, though Layne knew it was about money, not concern for his mental state, and there’s a part where he makes that perfectly clear: “Nothing thrilling me too much, yeah,” repeating the line over and over just in case there’s any doubt. Another relatively weak song, but note that AIC’s weaker tracks have a certain Pearl Jam-esque feel, so they can’t be bad.
“Nothin’ Song” follows the same pattern as the previous two. The intro features guitars that seem to hang in suspense, until Layne lets out a kind of scream and the rhythm kicks in. The melody is weak again, and Jerry mirrors it. The verses are somewhat repetitive and tiresome, but the chorus explodes with a better tone, the guitars with a sawtooth effect, and Layne returns with a much better melody and hooks, even using falsetto again. The return to the verses has a good transition, a tribal and sinister drumbeat, and good guitar licks, but when Layne's voice returns, the song becomes a bit tiresome again. There are no other tricks; the song alternates these parts for almost six minutes, which makes it somewhat tedious. This and "So Close" are the weakest tracks on the album.
With "Frogs", they regain their momentum with a chilling darkness. A dense and overwhelming riff, and then that black, razor-sharp guitar. Perfect harmonies, in slow, acidic, depressive swaying… Just as we're falling into a kind of hypnosis, the bridge enters with the guitar wobbly and the tempo starts to pick up: “Why's it have to be this way…” but we're left wanting an explosion. We return to the arpeggio, but Jerry starts to play tricks, adding licks and watery, distant effects, some overlapping acoustic strums, and it sounds like there are four or five different guitars alternating. At 5:15, Layne starts to babble in a low, distant voice. They're actually lyrics, though almost illegible. Lyrically (not just this part, but in general) it's some of Staley's best, and it most clearly shows the situation he was in: “What does friend mean to you? A word so wrongfully abused,” at a point where he was even questioning Jerry's friendship. Or “The sounds of silence often soothe” or at the end, in the whispered part: “And don't fuck with me again…”. This whole section feels lethargic. Many think it's unnecessary and boring, making the song longer than 8 minutes, but besides paying attention to the lyrics (perhaps Layne's testament), Jerry manages to maintain the tension and add interesting details.
The album ends with “Over Now”. A killer track, the band's final requiem, and perhaps the final farewell to all of grunge. It's another Cantrell composition, in which he also takes the lead vocals, and it originally dealt with a breakup with his girlfriend. However, it ended up as the last song on the band's final studio album, and also the last great grunge album in its purest form, before bands either broke up or moved towards a more alternative sound. That's why I say it's the swan song, not just for the band, but for the movement. It begins with the mournful trumpet call used by the U.S. military at funerals, with an old acetate effect that gives it a very cool feel. Then comes that formidable descending riff, which maintains the same scale despite the tonal changes. It's built around an acoustic guitar in the background, somewhat overshadowed by the slightly distorted electric guitar, which is eventually layered over with cleaner licks. It gives the impression of being acoustic, I suppose, partly because it's "softer" than the other tracks on the album, and also because the version that stuck in the collective memory is the Unplugged one, in which Jerry completely dispenses with distortion. In fact, on the single, side A is the acoustic version and side B is this studio version. Anyway, the song is magnificent, with an unforgettable vocal melody, where Jerry sings firmly, emotionally, but without the resignation of "Heaven Beside You." The lyrics go hand in hand with the performance and the nostalgic, yet firm, riff: "Yeah, it's over now, but I can breathe somehow." Yes, it's over, it hurts, but I'll move on with my life without you, although that certainty fades with the line: "Could you stand right there, look me straight in the eye and say, that it's over now." The bridge formed by the previous verse (I wouldn't call it the chorus) is also perfect, speeding up the song a bit and changing the tone to break the monotony. Here, Layne joins in to create that second or third voice that's the band's trademark. Jerry starts playing more electric licks, and special mention must be made of Sean Kinney, who does a spectacular drum job despite the mid-tempo, filling it with fills and managing the intensity. Shortly after the 3-minute mark, we have a slower instrumental bridge, with arpeggios creating beautiful scales reminiscent of a gray, rainy day, and the electric guitar weeping with what could be described as a slow, emotional guitar solo. The song continues alternating sections, and at 5:30, we have another guitar solo in the same vein, slow and mournful, while Sean continues to work the drums without overwhelming the song. A chord hangs suspended at the end, the arpeggios respond with a weeping sound, and the song fades away with a lament full of delay. Majestic. Initially, I preferred the Unplugged version, and it was the one that hooked me on the band and made me seek out their albums. With repeated listens, I've grown to appreciate this version more for the distinct feel the electric guitars provide. They couldn't have chosen a better opening or closing for the album.
Anyway, the album, also called Tripod because of the lame dog on the cover, would be their last studio album with Layne. They later recorded the Unplugged, which would be the only time they played some of the album's songs live, as the band then went on indefinite hiatus without formally announcing their breakup due to Layne's problems, until his death in April 2002. I think the Unplugged is very good, but I'm not convinced they improved on the original versions, so I don't plan to review it at the moment. We'll see. As I said, it's difficult to evaluate this last studio album. I firmly believe it's one of the most solid Grunge albums of that year, a year in which the movement was beginning to decline and lose ground to Brit Rock. Compared to other albums from that year, it deserves a 10; it's very solid, diverse, doesn't become tiresome despite its dark tone, and has a high level of instrumental and vocal quality, particularly regarding the harmonies. However, within the context of the band, I think it falls a bit short of the raw energy and freshness of Facelift and the maturity and perfect balance of Dirt, also having two or three tracks that, while not bad, are weak. Therefore, I don't think it deserves a 10. All in all, it's a highly recommended album, where the band, although not at their peak, displays an intelligence and instrumental mastery superior to that of other groups at their best. Alice In Chains was, unintentionally, the funeral dirge for Layne, for AIC, and for Grunge in general. A movement that was destined to die young, just like its most emblematic representatives…
By Corvan
Aug/8/2012
