Und Teil Zwei:
How did Kurt Cobain's death affect you?
I think a lot about if he was still around. How we might be sitting by the water in Seattle, by a campfire or something, talking. It could've been. We were running on parallel trains. But even if I'd been on his track, I wasn't in his car, so I don't know exactly what was going on and if that situation could've been saved. Mainly, I just think: What a damn shame.
Did it make you think differently about what you were doing?
At the time, after the immediate shock and sadness passed, I remember thinking maybe it was a gutsy move. I think anyone can imagine that--someone taking a stand, for better or worse. That's how I saw it at the time. Now I don't see it like that at all. Part of the equation has to be his health, whatever chemicals he was chained to, just like with Layne Staley [of Alice in Chains] or Stefanie Sargent [of 7 Year Bitch]. It's just a crying shame.
How old are you now?
I don't feel as old as I am, that's for sure. Time goes quick. And I started off feeling older-- working midnight shifts makes you older, every year ages you two. So by that math, although I was 25 when I joined the band, I was really 33 then, which would make me 48 now. But I'm really just 40.
You've cultivated friendships with a number of old-school rockers. Did you get any tips about longevity from guys like Neil Young or Pete Townsend?
With Neil, we spent time making that Mirror Ball record, spent time Bridge School [for children with speech and physical impairments, cofounded by Young's wife, Pegi], and we'd take walks with him out at his place . He didn't explain what we should be doing, but we got to see where he was then and appreciate where we were. We were about to make our second record and worried about it, and he said "You guys are lucky; you don't have all the baggage. You can write what you want." He was envying us! Which made us realize, c'mon, don't fucking panic. This is really good. And if there's anyone whose shoes you'd wanna wish yourself into, in terms of longevity, songwriting, experimentation with sound, whatever, it'd be him. And there's Ian MacKaye and Fugazi. What he does and they do is different from what we do. But the fact that he respects the way we've kind of, to use his line, "navigated the empty field"--that's from a new record he put out called The Evens; a two-piece thing, incredible--is important. For him, it's about the purity of the experience, the potential music has to reach people and communicate. It doesn't matter the size of the communion, y'know? Thirty, 40, 150 people. It's so powerful. So for me, and many others, even kids who aren't in bands, he's been a shining energy, a good force.
You were involved in a lot of anti-Bush efforts. Did the 2004 election alter your belief in the role music can play in politics and social change?
We raised money for MoveOn.org and tried to honestly motivate people and disseminate information and get out the vote, and that was positive. But looking back, maybe that's not the way. I'd rather charge a few dollars more for tickets, and without saying a damn thing, take that money and use it in that town for someone who needs it rather than trying to convince someone to be active or not. I think that what happened recently with this Live 8 concert is a futerisit model for how music can change the world. We were asked, and it would've been great to be a part of it. But we just don't have it in us to play festival-seating shows after the Denmark thing [nine audience members were crushed to death during Pearl Jam's set at the Roskilde festival in 2000]. Putting pressure on world leaders before a G8 summit meeting, appealing to their sense of legacy, and their pledge of 50 billion dollars--I mean, you couldn't raise that much money. I was incredibly impressed. That's the future, I think.
What are you proudest of Pearl Jam accomplishing?
Probably that we're still playing and communicating and making what we consider to be more interesting music than we ever have. And that, through communicating, we can withstand harsh criticism of each other. That happens a lot, especially when you're recording, which is what we have been for the past few months.
What do you think your legacy will be?
I don't think we've focused enough for there to be a legacy. We are a group with five individuals, and we have different things that are important to us. We've helped women's clinics that were gonna be shut down and helped get skate parks built. We should've thought more about it. [Laughs] I would hope good records would be part of it-- records people will be able to listen to in future years and get something out of. You talk to certain people, musicians, or younger guys, and they respect how went about things, and that's nice.
I hear you've been trying to quit smoking. How's that going?
This is my first nonsmoking interview. It's been tough. [Laughs] I started smoking after the Kurt thing--I kinda thought I'd do the same thing, just slowly, y'know? Now I don't feel like doing that at all. Johnny Ramone was young; he was about to turn 56. At one point, you see a number like that and you think, "I don't have to worry; I've got plenty of time." Then you get to a certain age and you think, "Well, maybe I don't have as much time as I thought." --Will Hermes