The State Theatre glitters in all of it’s dazzling glamour. No detail has been spared; the furnishings are exquisitely plush, from gilded staircases to marbled bathrooms, royal red carpet and an auditorium so decadent Mad King Ludwig himself would be shamed. It is truly a venue to house only the most glorious and gifted of artists, and what could be more fitting for God himself? For a god amongst men he is.
This is a man whose music shone through the dark, grittiness of the 90s grunge scene; one who survived the battles that claimed his peers; a man whose voice gave the world Daughter, Even Flow, Last Kiss, and Society. A voice that rings out, strong, piercing, wavering with 40 odd years of experience and raw emotion. And one that should have, by all rights, been silenced with the other legendary musicians of his generation.
Eddie Vedder.
How can one man armed with only an acoustic guitar command such presence and awe over a room of this stature and splendour? His voice is haunting, broken with pain; his hands an instrument of their own, slapping out the rhythm against the smooth, feminine curves of his instrument, fingers reaching into our very chests and plucking each chord on our heartstrings… The sharp, jarring story of his music burns into the souls of everyone in the room, bringing tears to grown men and women alike.
I do not believe in God, but I think that this is the closest I will come to finding something real, something true. The craft of music brings just as much pleasure and pain, provides just as much comfort and hope, and can throw one into a zealous fit just as passionate and moving as any sermon for a make-believe deity.
And if music is my faith, Eddie is without a doubt its leader. Amen to that.
