I’m writing this just as doors are opening at Humphrey’s By The Bay, a small outdoor amphitheater right on the water in San Diego. The one-percenter vibe’s punctuated by sailboat masts silhouetted against the sun’s parting rays and, bizarrely, I’m thinking about Pearl Jam.
Eddie Vedder’s originally from here - hard to imagine rock’s most famously lugubrious baritone shredding the gnar at Pacific Beach, but he evidently did just that right before recording vocals on a demo tape from Seattle, courtesy of a couple lanky, sunlight-deprived rock nerds named Mike McCready and Stone Gossard. Vedder was a security guard at the time - within a year, he’d become one of the voices of his generation.
It’s wild how quickly things can change, a welcome reminder for earnest dreamers, wondering if their music will find a home.