The site in question is toomuchpearljam.com, and it's dedicated to documenting a rather ridiculous folly by local record store clerk Ali Neff and L.A. native Kurt Orzeck.
"I was filing CDs at Amoeba [Music] in the used section and I was totally grossed out by the amount of Pearl Jam releases there," Neff explains via phone during her lunch break. "Then I remembered that the band had put out like 30 live CDs in the last six months. And being a fan of [gonzo rock critic] Lester Bangs -- I know this will sound pretentious -- but they were just there staring me in the face, and I thought, "Wouldn't it be funny to listen to them all?'"
After doing some research, Neff discovered that Seattle's last remaining grunge band had in fact issued 72 live bootlegs in the past year. Although "Pee Jay" welcomes (as did the Grateful Dead) the taping and distributing of its live shows, leader Eddie Vedder was upset at the bad quality and high price of the unofficial boots. In answer, he and his label, Epic, pressed up every date from the band's 2000 European and U.S. tour -- and charged $17 a pop. "I really wanted to come out and say, "Who the fuck do they think they are?' I expected 75 percent [of the discs] would be crap and we'd show they were just hurting their fans," Neff says.
Neff and her college friend Orzeck -- who, unlike Neff, actually liked the band -- decided that the only way to compare all the discs was to plow through them in a single week. Unfortunately, when the albums arrived, the duo discovered that they ran 160 hours -- not the 120 rumored. Taking a week off from work and dispensing with social lives, the two commenced to listen nonstop -- even when showering, peeing, and eating. (Neff's roommates soon declared the living room a Jam-free zone.) "We slept in shifts, and even then I'd be half-asleep, waking up whenever Eddie would start talking between songs," Neff says. The pair also took the project on the road, listening on a boombox in front of Amoeba under a sign that read "Jeremy has spoken ... It's time for a Pearl Jammathon."
"I was surprised how much people hated us," Neff says. "They thought it was either pointless or stupid."
The duo posted their often cheeky album reviews -- mapping the evolution of the "grunge slur," pondering whether the song "Spin the Black Circle" refers to "an olive, rolling on the floor, after it fell off the table," and wondering what "little green bug" got up Vedder's ass in Dublin -- on their Web site, garnering further vitriol, this time from the band's fans. "If your whole writing thing falls through, the McDonald's next to my apartment is hiring," said one miffed Jammer.
"Ninety percent of the mail was negative. What they didn't realize was that we were totally open-minded," Neff says. In fact, she grew to like some of the band's original songs and covers. "I was really into finding all the little nuances in the shows." That said, by the end of the week -- having played only 40 of the discs -- the pair had had their fill. "Kurt got really stressed out. He couldn't deal with the pressure and the people hating us."
Before Orzeck headed back home to L.A., he and Neff split up the remaining 32 boots with the intention of finishing them off. But so far few new reviews have made it onto the site. "I don't think I can listen to any more Pearl Jam. I've been listening to funk and soul only," Neff says with a notable sense of relief.
Her PJ OD left her with some interesting thoughts on consumerism and the modern artist's dedication to his fans. "When you look at how many albums Frank Zappa put out -- it's like 50 -- they're all unique and original. If I had listened to all of them, I'd be stoked, and I'd be able to recognize all the differences. It's a lot of product, but it's all consumable. So many of the [Pearl Jam] discs are bad, and lots of people are buying every single one."
So does she regret her descent into altrock's mainstream maelstrom? Not for a second. "It needed to be done," she says. "It was a challenge, an act of supreme idiocy."
