Everclear
Sparkle And Fade

THE REVIEW

When Kurt died, there were still quite a few crumbs and some slices of the grunge cake left on the tray. The teenagers, after all, were not yet in their twenties; the twenty-somethings hadn't yet reached thirty, the generation hadn't been replaced yet, and the demand for grunge definitely exceeded the supply. But who should be given the king's scepter? Who for the succession? Who, if the Pearl Jam refused to follow the path of their beginnings? In '96, Billy Corgan published his generational manifesto, proclaiming himself the heir... Everything fit perfectly, after all: just think of his relationship with Courtney Love, which preceded the one that tied the American sweetheart to Cobain in marriage. "Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage": this phrase works even in Italian, and perhaps all over the world and in all its languages... A universal phrase, for all the young people of an entire generation... A few years later, it was to Corgan that Courtney turned to tackle the first album of widowhood. Everything suggests that it was Billy who was the de facto king of grunge, the king of the end of the empire.

Before the white smoke in his favor, the other candidates were Dave Grohl making his debut, Layne Staley and his last album of unreleased tracks, the Soundgarden of "Black Hole Sun"... And as for the new entries? Rather than mentioning Gavin Rossdale from England, Dolores O'Riordan from Ireland, or even worse Daniel Johns from Australia, I will mention a name, American indeed, from the western part of America, knowing full well that this will get me a lot of shit: Art Alexakis. Perhaps, for MTV and the majors, there was nothing more promising and, who knows, reliable than Art: Staley had his problems, Cornell made another nice album with the band and then decided he wanted to become the new Jeff Buckley... It's a shame to admit it, but if these were supposed to be Cobain's heirs...

Alexakis was indeed good: he was much uglier than Cobain, true, but still better than Corgan with his future bald pumpkin head, up to that point the spitting image of Geena Davis; and he lived a childhood and adolescence that, by comparison, made Billy the sad seem like he had it all fun and games. In this regard, what doesn't add up to me is why Corgan's affinity for writing autobiographical lyrics was taken into great (huge?) consideration: those who find value in those verses are more or less the same who condemn Alexakis, labeling him as a speculator commanded by the majors, a fake alternative, pleased with his existential malaise and the various misdeeds committed up to that point. He is accused of a fundamental falsity, which in my view stems only from the awareness that, for once in the history of humanity, people were living in an era in which it was finally possible to profit from being a loser. I also wrote in one of my reviews (self-citation?): never before were you better off being the biggest loser, outcast and disconnected from the world you were.

So why not consider him, he who in some pieces of this "Sparkle And Fade" dedicates the song to the person concerned as if he was standing in front of him, or as if he were playing live? Especially if he describes the woman as a praying mantis, if in "Heroin Girl" he makes a piece that is a mix between Hole and "Come Out and Play" by The Offspring... He who has the audacity to present grunge not for moshing but for dancing with the hit "Santa Monica"?

Sure, there's a lot of standard stuff, like the punk nature of "You Make Me Feel Like a Whore," whose guitar anger in view of the chorus sounds at least suspicious, or like "Heartspark Dollarsign," fun punk with garage sounds but beach structure. The crushing standards of "Chemical Smile" and "Twistinside," the punk as a thousand of "Nehalem," the smart punkwave of "Queen Of The Air" and "My Sexual Life"... However, there are great songs, like "Summerland," "Electra Made Me Blind" and "Pale Green Stars"... None of what Art proposes, however, approaches the catchy Nirvana choruses, which doesn't make him a duplicate; let alone what he might have in common with Cornell, Staley, and Doctor Zero!

"Sparkle And Fade," from the year 28 P.K., is an album played very well and purposefully produced on a shoestring, far from being a masterpiece but also far from being the shit people say it is. Whoever said well that Alexakis did inherit from certain music as the greats of grunge did, but unlike them he failed to develop his personal touch. Yet, I say, maintaining a granite sonic consistency, even in the most pop episodes of the future. But perhaps it is not on the music that it is worth focusing.

The crux of the debate is the following: was Mr. Alexakis an artist worthy of serious consideration, in his writing and singing about his and those around him's discontent and ruin? Is it a fault to draw on one's own baggage of misfortune with the full awareness that the same things that were bringing him to ruin would have, thanks to the intervention of a major record label, resulted in fame, success, and wealth? Yes, okay, also to fierce criticism and the disdain of certain purists, nonetheless to reviews with no appeal, but always and in any case to having lived his moment of glory (if Cobain's lasted 4 years, Art could have done with half), to having made his own fortune, and today to being able to continue to survive with dignity thanks to his passion (Everclear, although the lineup changes have transformed the trio, still survive around the leader: the end of many bands, and incidentally also the end of the Smashing Pumpkins).

The lyrics of Alexakis are at the center of the dispute: if they are considered fake outright, then death to Alexakis. But if they are considered authentic despite the self-satisfaction, then why not reevaluate the first three Everclear albums?

The choice is yours; I made mine years ago.