AA.VV.
Singles: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack

Who doesn't remember, in the roaring Nineties, the film "Singles"? A banal apology for that word on everyone's lips, a "Beverly Hills 90210 de noantri" set in what - after the global success of "Nevermind" - was the new mecca of rock, with cameo appearances by Chris Cornell and Eddie Vedder, and the handsome Matt Dillon as the leader of Citizen Dick (the name says it all).

But besides certifying the grunge revolution in progress, this venture hinted that the phenomenon had passed the point of no return, that the big industry and various Cameron Crowes had seized it to distort it (as always happens to an underground culture when it becomes public domain: I’m not sure if you remember when Dolce and Gabbana presented their grunge models...). It's no coincidence that the only heavyweights from the North West who didn't participate in this farce were Nirvana, who truly didn't need publicity, as well as for Kurt's well-known idiosyncrasy toward this type of operation.

Malice aside, the soundtrack's content is nevertheless of high caliber: an excellent compendium of the Seattle Sound, and largely reflects the spectral and sick nature of the city, certainly not the town depicted with Clinton-era optimism in the film in question. Some tracks were already released, but it's always a pleasure to listen to classics like the alluring "Nearly Lost You" by the Screaming Trees, or the dark psychedelia of "Would?" by Alice in Chains, a gloomy and poignant tribute to one of the scene's pioneers, Andrew Wood, made unforgettable by the - alas, prophetic - performance of the late Layne Staley. The unfortunate Mother Love Bone are honored with the majestic glam delirium of "Chloe Dancer / Crown of Thorns". Their heirs Pearl Jam were instead the greatest beneficiaries of the Singles operation. "Ten" was about to complete its irresistible climb to the top of the US charts, and Gossard and Vedder's band found further propulsion with two unreleased tracks, morbidly epidermal, which admirably defined how the grunge style had embraced more classic rock sounds, for example in the less claustrophobic cut of the riffs or Mike McCready's very "70s" solos, and how the mainstream now coincided with what was once considered "alternative".

Whether this was good or bad, an inevitable evolution or a dilution of Seattle's original sound, is a matter that has always divided the flannel-shirt nostalgics: the fact remains that "Breath" and "State of Love and Trust" are truly dazzling, but unfortunately, they would forge an archetype for various bands like Candlebox or Silverchair, who would soon become popular.
The Soundgarden are obviously not missing, both with the full band and their sulfurous "Birth Ritual", and with Cornell's solo icy "Season", full of suggestive echoes of the third LP by the putative fathers Led Zeppelin, while another master, Jimi Hendrix, is honored more for geopolitical reasons with "May This Love". On the other hand, the presence of two tracks by the great Paul Westerberg, an 80s alternative rock legend with the Replacements and a sure inspiration for Cobain, is right on target: "Waiting for Somebody" and "Dyslexic Heart" are two great college-rock numbers and they make a great impression.

The Smashing Pumpkins could not be absent either (Corgan has always abhorred the grunge label, but with "Siamese Dream" around the corner, imagine if the shrewd Billy would let such a showcase slip by...) and "Drown" is yet another gem in the Pumpkins' repertoire, resulting in a brilliant example of lysergic applied to the hard.
However, the best track in "Singles" is the one that defines its context: the drunken superfuzz assault of "Overblown" by the ever-irreverent Mudhoney, who denounce with their usual flair how the magic had already evaporated.

In this light, if Seattle's legend had reached its emotional peak with Temple of the Dog and "Nevermind" had been both its consecration and loss of innocence, with "Singles" there was probably the unintended epitaph.