So we went to the Pearl Jam concert last night. My brother Matt and I went, after Elizabeth dropped us off at the gates (she went to go work on one of her multiple papers for grad school, not being that big a grunge fan). It was quite a good show.

Their new stuff is a bit weak in comparison to the audacity of their first three albums, but that could be the result of maturing -- both for the band and me. The new stuff is smoother, less jarring as those first songs like "Even Flow" and their classic "Alive," but not as energetic, either. I'm glad I got to see them, because I don't foresee them touring much more after this. But you never know.

I've been thinking about why I like this band so much -- I've got all their albums and three of their live CDs (plus MP3s of the concert last night, already!). I think it's because of the history and memories that I have, all tied up with their music.

With the exception of "No Code" (which slipped under my radar until last year, believe it or not), I can remember where I was when each of their albums came out. Indulge me here.

The first time I heard "Alive" was in 1992, as I was driving from North Carolina back to Iowa, on my way eventually to Nebraska to start my first Real Job -- teaching junior high English at a tiny public school in a town called Bancroft. I remember driving over a bridge in the middle of the night, foggy, somewhere maybe in West Virginia, and hearing that opening guitar riff that just soars, and I distinctly remember saying "Holy shit."

Through my tough first year in a town where I didn't know hardly anyone (though of course everyone new me -- towns of 700 people don't get many new folks, you see), I played that first Pearl Jam cassette all the damn time. I played it on my Saturday trips to Sioux City for comics, I played it in my classroom on Sundays as I was prepping for the coming week, I played it as I shot baskets in the gym by myself, trying to drown out the loneliness and the surreal sense of being a Grown Up with a Real Job (if you can call making $16,500 a year for working your ass off a Real Job). Pearl Jam's music got me through all that.

I remember hearing "Daughter" from the second album at a bar in Iowa City with my college friends, a year after we'd all graduated, and feeling really old as I saw all the undergrads dancing around us. I also remember the grunge look being big -- flannel as far as the eye can see.

Their third album saw me BACK in North Carolina in '94, waiting tables and being a bit of a slacker as I got residency for grad school at NC State. "Vitalogy" meant Elizabeth, of course. After our first date she came over to the apartment I shared with my brother Matt, and we listened to the songs on it, repeating the words to "Nothingman" to each other ("Caught a bolt of lightning..."). We still talk about that night, every time we hear a Pearl Jam song.

And what's so cool about the way things work out is that, at the very end of the show as she was waiting to pick us up, Elizabeth got to hear the last few songs of the set, and "Nothingman" was one of them.

I could go on and on, like how "Given to Fly" will always remind me of the trip Elizabeth and I took to the Outer Banks and Manteo for our first anniversary, but you get the point. Pearl Jam's music, to me, is my history of being an adult.

But more to the point, it's the history of me figuring out who the hell I am, what I want to do with my life, how I want to live it, and most importantly, who I want to live it with. Is it any surprise that most of my writing is done to their music? If your life has to have a soundtrack, I'm happy that Pearl Jam has provided me with mine.