Alice in Chains
Jar Of Flies

THE REVIEW

"Grunge," ugly word. What is "grunge" and what isn't? Bleach? Then also Nevermind? And what about Soundgarden? And after that? Dirt, they say it is. It was cool to say "I listen to grunge music," and dad making a face, "what the hell is 'this grunge'?" Come on, dad, you're old, you don't understand, go back to listening to Genesis... And you filled your mouth with terms learned after hours of reading Rumore and the like on school benches. Then one day your trusted dealer goes "Hey, there's a new Alice album out, are you interested?" Of course, damn it, they're grunge, of course I'm interested! And besides, it's an EP, it's cheap (there wasn't emule back in the day...).

But something doesn't add up... you're enveloped by the disorienting and distorted melody of "Rotten Apple," you've traveled with the notes of "Nutshell"... and you think something's wrong, that here the much-acclaimed grunge has little or nothing to do with it... and meanwhile, you've crossed the sparkling rock of "I Stay Away" and "No Excuses," let yourself slowly slide into the dreamy progression of "Whale And Wasp," been blinded by the clear beauty of "Don't Follow," and after "Swing On This" you realize you can no longer live without these gems.

You curse Alice for limiting themselves to an EP and you put the album back in the player, listen to it again in one breath, and only some distorted echo of the word "grunge" remains in your head, buried under thirty minutes of amazing music.