Pearl Jam works the rock clichés with panache

Apathy towards Pearl Jam falls somewhere between cardinal sin and cliché in this town, where Eddie et al constitute both a good two thirds of our miniscule celebrity pool and one of the last bands standing from the days when Seattle was SEATTLE. Its citizens mostly stand firmly on one side or the other of the great grunge divide: love 'em or loathe 'em. Personally, I've never really cared much about the band either way.

So sharing the Gorge's scorching temperatures with 20,000 sticky, sweaty, and (for many) beer-saturated Ten Clubbers on Saturday night wasn't exactly high on my summer to-do list. The first forty-five minutes were decidedly unpleasant: The "line" to get in was more like an excruciating cattle corral, and the hot, testy crowd management staff was pushed to its limits by the hotter, testier crowd.

Then the band started. The first set was a mix of big hits, lesser known favorites, and tracks from this year's eponymous release. Swilling wine from the bottle and looking pretty much exactly as he did in Singles, frontman Eddie Vedder charmed the crowd with that unique, coarse caterwauling that can only be described as downright sensuous and dedicated "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town" to "all the locals whose towns we've invaded tonight."

Although lead axeman Mike McCready, with a tousled, bleach-blonde haircut and chic little glasses, looked more like a local hipster, he still acted every bit the rockstar, playing virtuosic guitar licks behind his head on perennial stadium-shaker "Evenflow" and throwing handfuls of guitar picks into the crowd. The most dedicated fans already knew all the words to "Unemployable," a peppy new tune with a hopscotching bass line and classic rock riffs.

By the time the sun magnificently set over the ravine as if on cue as Vedder sang the line, "The shades goes down" from "Daughter," I was sold and my head banged almost instinctively throughout the second set of classics like "Alive," with its evocative licks and swooping story arches, a jammed-out version of "Porch," and rarities like the brooding "Footsteps."

When security temporarily barred people from returning to their seats after the second set, the scene in the aisles turned a little violent, resulting in a fracas where one fan got his shirt ripped to shreds by the four guards pinning him to the ground. But everyone was eventually able to return peacefully to their seats in time for a "surprise" third set that included covers of "Baba O'Riley" and "Keep on Rocking in the Free World." Next to me, longtime fan and Vedder's fellow West Seattleite Bridget Merlino shared her battery-powered fan with everyone around her, while another devotee greeted friends he'd made while following the band around the country over the years.

Spawning a groupie community isn't exactly extraordinary among a band with this kind of longevity. In fact, it's fairly formulaic and, frankly, so are many of Pearl Jam's songs. What sets the band apart is that they still work the rock cliché with panache, passion, and compassion for both fans and hometown (a portion of Saturday's profits went to local nonprofit Arts Corps). When they closed the show with a cover of another great Seattleite's version of the "Star-Spangled Banner," it sure felt like all 20,005 of us were home.