The Cavern
Rock & Words
DIRT (Alice In Chains, 1992)
Artist: Alice In Chains (C+)
Recording Dates: March – May 1992
Release Date: September 29, 1992, USA
Record Label: Columbia
Producer: AIC, Dave Jerden
Rating: 10 (MUST HAVE)
Era: Grunge (1989-???)
Subgenre: Grunge (1989-1997)
Best Song: Would o Rooster o Angry Chair…
Tracklist: 1) Down In A Hole; 2) Them Bones; 3) Damn That River; 4) Rain When I Die; 5) Sickman; 6) Rooster; 7) Junkhead; 8) Dirt; 9) God Smack; 10) Iron Gland; 11) Hate To Feel; 12) Angry Chair; 13) Would?.
This is another reason why I can't give Nevermind a 10. Dirt is a perfect grunge album, one that encapsulates the mood, the devastating and alienated essence of the generation grunge represents. Do you know why Nevermind became an iconic 90s album, the most representative of so-called grunge, and one of the best-selling albums of all time, while Alice in Chains' Dirt couldn't, despite being infinitely better? No, it wasn't because Nevermind came first, but because Dirt is absolutely more violent, raw, honest, and terrifying than Nevermind. In comparison, Cobain and company sound like the Jonas Brothers or the Backyardigans. That doesn't mean Dirt isn't one of the best 90s albums; it's just that people are terrified of it because it doesn't resort to makeup or cheap tricks (I'm not referring to Kurt, but to glam metal) to generate fear. It's pure reality. It doesn't even try to instill fear. Alice In Chains simply reflects reality with all possible starkness, the horrifying reality of a drug addict, a sick man wasting away in a filthy hole, turning to skin and bones, whose best wish is that it rains when he dies sitting in a raging chair (just to use a few song titles).
It's truly a nightmare; this album is the horror film that Ozzy Osbourne and Tony Iommi envisioned as music when they shaped the concept of Black Sabbath. Except Alice In Chains didn't intend to frighten, or deter, or anything like that, and perhaps that's why it's so brilliant, because it's one of the most accomplished and, at the same time, least pretentious albums in history. The music itself is also breathtaking, and it's the perfect conduit for Staley's heart-wrenching vocals. Jerry Cantrell is an exceptional guitarist who plays a multitude of high-quality riffs with astonishing ease. And its dark, somber, powerful, and catchy riffs only serve to amplify Staley's ideas. Musically, it's a combination of darkness and that doomsday atmosphere with melodicism, creativity, and colossal sounds. And lyrically, it's everything Kurt wanted to say on Nevermind but couldn't. That's why, in my opinion, this is the ultimate grunge album and the one that truly encapsulates everything the genre should be.
The SAP EP from early 1992 had already brought Alice In Chains some recognition, as it came out just as Nevermind was reaching its peak and grunge was taking shape and gaining momentum as a musical movement. Seattle bands were suddenly the coolest in the world, and Alice In Chains' schedule suddenly became packed. So recording a new album was urgent. By March of '92, Layne had just finished heroin rehab, but no sooner had he left than he was already injecting himself again. During the recording sessions, he also suffered from back pain, so he was taking prescription Oxycodone. Jerry Cantrell, Mike Starr, and Seann Kinney, for their part, continued to smoke marijuana throughout the sessions, and gradually increased their alcohol consumption, to the point where some sessions were absolutely chaotic. Jerry was also depressed due to the recent deaths of his mother and a friend, so he was prescribed the anti-anxiety medication Xanax, which, when mixed with other substances, was not advisable.
So, in March, they went into Eldorado Studios in California and London Bridge Studios in Seattle with producer Dave Jarden, who had already produced their debut album, Facelift, and with whom they were happy. For the recordings, Jerry brought an old amplifier he'd used when he was 17, which had considerably more distortion than the one used on Facelift. "I was pissed off," he said, "and the only way to show just how pissed off I was was with this amp." Jerry himself would later say that during that time they dealt with their inner demons through music: "All the poison that surfaced throughout the day was cleansed out when we were playing." It's said that Layne was so deep in his addiction that he would inject himself in the studio, in front of everyone. Jarden had problems with Staley because he couldn't get him to arrive sober, and they had constant arguments, but according to him, they hired him to produce an album, not to be Layne's friend. The funny thing is that Starr and Kinney would later say that even Jerden smoked marijuana with them in the studio. All of this contributed to the album's bleak atmosphere.
Everyone was going through a rough patch personally and felt overwhelmed, which was evident in the album's sound. It has a denser, darker, heavier, and considerably more intense mood than the band's other albums. But curiously, it's a true work of art; the pressure helped them reflect their feelings on the record like a mirror. It's said that true gems come at a high price for their creators, and so Metallica's Black Album ended with three divorces, for example. In a way, this gem would be the beginning of the end for Staley.
Dirt is considerably darker and more powerful than Facelift. Six of the songs deal directly with drugs. It's not exactly a concept album, but the central idea is more than clear. It also addresses depression, alienation, war, the inability to communicate, and really, all the problems that the young generation of the early 90s truly grappled with. A brutal, dense, heavy, and incredibly intense album. There's not the slightest attempt at a funky sound, as seems to be the case at times on Facelift or AIC. Nor are there any light, acoustic-tinged songs like on the aforementioned SAP. Cantrell's riffs are a bit slower, but apocalyptic, and they gain in quality and darkness. The band reaches its musical peak (in contrast to their personal states of mind), and not a single note is missing or superfluous; each member does everything necessary to make each song drag you down, down, down... And they don't do it to sell records; they do it because that's the situation they're in, period. That's what's so chilling about this album. Staley would later say, “I wrote about drugs, but I didn’t think it was careless or unsafe to do it the way I did… I wasn’t inviting my fans to think heroin was cool. I was simply reflecting what was happening to me… But when fans started coming in with thumbs-up messages telling me they were really high, I knew I’d screwed up. It was exactly what I didn’t want to happen.” And I believe him. I can’t imagine anyone becoming an addict after hearing all this from an addict.
The album opens with “Down In a Hole”, perhaps the closest thing to a ballad we'll find here. The song begins subtly, with lovely backing vocals, a delicate and bittersweet guitar arrangement, and a strong delay effect, which then shifts to a heavier distortion as the song grows denser and heavier. This song was Jerry's, and initially he didn't want to show it to the band because he thought it was too soft… Soft? The lyrics are heartbreaking. It's not exactly about drugs, but about the end of a long-term relationship and how devastated Jerry was: “Down in a hole and I don't know if I can be saved / See my heart I decorate it like a grave / You don't understand who they thought I was supposed to be / Look at me now a man who won't let himself be.” It ended up being one of the album's five singles and one of the band's signature tracks. Layne's performance is masterful; he sings as if he wrote the lyrics himself, with a heart-wrenching emotion. Musically, it's perfect. Without being overly complex, the band manages to crank up the intensity at times, without changing the tempo, just by pressing the distortion pedal. And it's incredibly catchy; you could spend weeks humming the chorus! The vocal harmonies are intricate, with those captivating interplay between Layne and Jerry. Hooks abound, from subtle inflections in Staley's voice, to the occasional bass line after the choruses, the arpeggios… everything works in this desolate ballad.
Then there's "Them Bones", another Cantrell song, written in 7/8 time with a violent, ascending riff. The song is considerably heavier, starting with that fast, incisive, and destructive opening riff where Layne unleashes constant screams (doesn't that give you goosebumps?). Then comes another riff for the verses and a different one for the chorus, which returns to the standard 4/4 time signature. The solo isn't groundbreaking, but it works very well. The song as a whole has a somber atmosphere that perfectly suits the lyrics about the inherent mortality of humankind: “I believe they bones are me / some say we're born into the grave / I've been so alone, gonna end up a big ol' pile o' them bones”… can this really compete with “An Albino, A Mosquito?” AIC has an absolutely nihilistic essence in its lyrics; they're on another level. Exquisite.
“Damn That River” has a much more dynamic, but equally devastating, riff. The song is charged with energy from the very first second, with a great vocal performance from Layne. The only thing is that the differences between verses and choruses are barely noticeable; it seems they simply lowered the vocals and guitar by an octave, and because of this, the song can be slightly tiring. But the solo is tremendous, slightly short, but good. And the ending couldn't be anything but abrupt and powerful.
“Rain When I Die” is one of the most harrowing songs ever written. I suppose it's what Cobain was trying to do with the noise tracks on Nevermind, only here it actually works. Mike Starr's bass is deep and dark, the drums sound chaotic, and the fuzz-laden guitar gives an overwhelming sense of desperation to that tremendous intro that lasts over a minute, gradually building until it explodes into those two magnificent riffs, one at 1:05 and the other at 1:15. Perhaps the album's climactic moment is when Jerry unleashes that motorcycle-like roar on the guitar to release the tension they've been building. Then the guitar is loaded with wah-wah, sounding ferocious. Staley sings in an exasperated way, as if it really is the best thing that could ever happen to him, and it's moving when he sings that line: “I think it's gonna raaaaaaaain! When I diiieeee!” The song leaves you breathless, one well-executed trick after another, a barrage of riffs and a display of guitar technique that proves Cantrell is one of the last virtuosos of rock. A perfect work brimming with anguish. And that false ending is the cherry on top!
Next comes “Sickman”, another chilling track, only this one has a bit more polish. Kinney’s drum intro is almost tribal, and the guitar follows the frenetic rhythm. At the 35-minute mark, there’s a chaotic bridge that repeats as the band shifts gears throughout the song. It’s not one of Layne’s most memorable melodies, but the time-traveling elements are impactful, occasionally reminding me of Rob Zombie’s soundscapes. Around the three-minute mark, there's a chilling, childlike laugh that could give you nightmares for weeks, while whispers and other effects are added, immersing you in a horrifying atmosphere, a kind of chaos, but very well done.
Then comes "Rooster". If you read the lyrics literally, you might think it's an ode to marijuana, which in many places is known as "rooster." However, it's a song Jerry wrote for his father, who fought in the Vietnam War and was nicknamed "Rooster." Knowing this, the lyrics change completely, right? Although I don't doubt he cleverly played with the meanings. The song is perfect, starting subtly with slow, delayed guitar riffs. The song is slow and melancholic until the first chorus at 2:05, when it finally explodes and Jerry throws in the distortion, along with the drums and bass, while Layne screams the song even more. Again, it's impressive how the band can make such a dark song so melodic, so full of hooks, with so many tempo changes that work so well (infinitely better than in "Sickman"). A very heavy ballad that, despite being over six minutes long, doesn't drag for a single second, and rather than creating the effect of a ballad, it generates an adrenaline rush. Another classic track from the band, and one that unfortunately proves that, even though they were talking about something completely different, they were already completely pigeonholed into the drug theme.
“Junkhead” explains the reason for this fame. It’s an ode to the addict. In the choruses, Layne sings almost proudly: “What’s my drug of choice? Well, what have you got?” Then he says: “Money, status, nothing to me. ‘Cause your life is empty and bare.” The riff during the verses is simple but crushing, very Sabbath-esque. Simpler, but even in songs where they don’t seem to be putting in much effort, they maintain that end-of-the-world atmosphere and the ability to pin you to your seat.
Next up is “Dirt”, which has a suspiciously similar riff to “Electric Funeral.” It won't be the only Black Sabbath reference on the album, of course. No matter, the song is equally tremendous, with a great bass line from Mike Starr. Jerry and Layne wrote the song together with the idea of making the heaviest track they had ever written. I don't know if they succeeded, but it certainly has that doom-laden, menacing, and… err… dirty feel! By the way, the solo at 2:50 is amazing. Cantrell has that rare ability to be just as expressive with his guitar as Staley is with his voice.
Next up is “God Smack”. The guitar riff is very cool, but I'm not convinced by Layne's distorted vocal effect at the beginning; he slurs the words and it sounds very forced, especially in contrast to the bridges. The lyrics are very raw, perhaps some of the most honest regarding the topic of drugs: “What In God's Name Have You Done? / Stick Your Arm For Some Real Fun.” The most noteworthy aspect is Jerry's tremendous work with the wah pedal during the choruses, and Sean's drumming, which is monumental at times. Did it give name to the band?
Then comes “Iron Gland”, which is nothing more than a joke by Jerry parodying the intro to Black Sabbath's “Iron Man.” It was even released under that title by mistake on some editions, haha. What is true, though, is that it's much more terrifying than Sabbath's own version. They were really just playing around with the theme, but the vocals do sound chilling, not because of Layne's guttural vocals, but because of the madness they already convey.
It serves as a short intro to “Hate To Feel”, whose riff has a vague resemblance to Led Zeppelin's “Dazed And Confused.” The fault doesn't lie with Cantrell, but with Layne, who shows he also has ideas as a guitarist, even if they're borrowed, hahaha. The thing is, it's another incredibly tough song about heroin where Staley partly blames his father and partly accepts having become his father figure. Those parts where he sings in a choppy, emphasizing way get on my nerves a bit, but I suppose that's the intention.
Now comes a brutal finale with a couple of top-notch songs. “Angry Chair” is a work of art, with a slow, rhythmic riff, devilishly simple, but one that echoes in your mind like a bell. And in contrast, there's Layne's gigantic vocal line, fluid, melodic, and full of hooks. At times it sounds too echoy, on the edge of the abyss, and then it goes back to sounding raw. The song is brutal, charged with devastating energy, bridges with great tempo changes, and hooks everywhere. It's amazing what they do with grunge songs… can you imagine if this pair had decided to make pop? They would have sold more than Michael Jackson and the entire Disney catalog of visual artists combined!
The album closes with “Would?”. The song is a work of art. A wealth of resources that work from beginning to end, and which the band makes seem effortless. It isn't; it's not easy to create songs that so perfectly balance rhythmic aspects, the masterful handling of almost destructive energy, the hooks, the time signature changes… The bass and drums deliver a subtle yet brutal entrance, with something malevolent, tribal, and ancient in that dark drumming. The guitar whips around with powerful riffs until it explodes in the chorus and then launches into a solo with a cleaner sound around 2:07, short but chilling. Layne, for his part, gives one of his best vocal performances, and it's worth noting that although he sometimes screams, he never uses it to overwhelm the song, but rather as a brief hook that complements the rest of the track. The lyrics fit perfectly, even though Jerry wrote them for Andrew Wood, a friend who died of a heroin overdose in 1990: “Into the flood again, Same old trip it was back then, So I made a big mistake, Try to see it once my way…” The song becomes almost too ironic considering that Layne would also die of a heroin overdose. It's a great song, with something truly haunting about it that gives me goosebumps every time I hear it. It's an effect only the Stones' “Gimme Shelter” evokes in me, and it proves that you don't have to be going at lightning speed or blasting distortion or singing like you're spitting out your lungs to achieve the crushing effect of this track. The ending, abruptly cutting off the song's dynamics, is also exquisite and unexpected.
All things considered, Dirt is practically a concept album about the physical and emotional devastation that hard drugs can cause. Staley's sincerity and emotion are devastating, especially considering he's an addict himself. This isn't a sermon album; it's a raw record where Layne bares his soul to show what drugs have done to him, just like that, without any pretense. Drawing a parallel with this Halloween season, the difference between this album and glam metal is that glam metal bands dress up to be scary. Here, Alice In Chains shows themselves as they are, and THAT is what's scary. Dirt, then, is a perfect combination of realistic horror, pure power, and catchy metal melodies.
Dirt is absolutely recommended. You don't have to be a grunge fan or a potential suicide victim to enjoy it (although I definitely don't recommend it for those with suicidal thoughts). Cantrell's guitar riffs and talent speak for themselves, but Layne's raw energy and lyrical prowess, along with the effectiveness of Mike Starr and Sean Kinney, make this a true masterpiece of the '90s. Although it became AIC's most successful album, achieving multiple gold records and awards, it still feels like one of the most underrated albums of the decade and of all time… A must-have!
By the time I'm checking this review for the translation in June 2026, I just want to add that is the only Grunge album by now I own in vinyl (double, actually). If that means something...
By Corvan
Oct/29/2010
