The Off Ramp, Seattle, 13 November 1990

For the first few minutes all we see is darkness and random lights, all we hear is crowd noise and various guitar-like burps. Then, a riff: wow, it's the intro to "River of Deceit" by Mad Season. Is this a Pearl Jam vid? No, it's not, which makes it even more amazing. This is a video of the only full performance of Temple Of The Dog to have taken place.

It's still dark and we see nothing, but now we hear the intro chords to "Hunger Strike" and we hear a voice that could only belong to Chris Cornell begin singing. The band sounds almost tentative; Chris' voice is almost drowned out by the crowd chatter. It's still dark when Matt Cameron kicks in, solid and steady as ever. Finally, the camera moves and there they are, overshadowed by a giant mirror ball on the ceiling, catching most of the light.

From left to right, it's Stone Gossard, Chris, Jeff Ament and Mike McCready, Matt Cameron almost invisible behind them, crowded onto the very tiny Off Ramp stage. It's hard to see details, but all of them have that way-longer hair some of us miss so much =). At the time, the Off Ramp was the creme de la creme of Seattle clubs; right around the corner from RKCNDY, it was the place to see and be scene in the pre-grunge heyday. The club is full, but not packed and the crowd is almost sedate, considering what they're about to see.

It takes the ensemble until the bridge of "Hunger Strike" before they hit their stride, gaining power and pull together. A very big noise and presence for such a small stage. The second number is "Wooden Jesus," for which Chris dons a guitar. Mike is trying desperately to be... Mike McCready, manic and hair flailing. There's just no room! Chris growls as Mike wails through the last verse. You almost can't see Chris when he's bent over his guitar; he's wearing all black, and many times during the show, when his hair falls over his face he becomes invisible.

"Thank you very much," Chris says. There's a brief conference around the drum riser. "Looks like Mr. Gossard busted himself a string," Chris tells us. [In fact, the show is plagued by technical glitches and long breaks in between every single song.] "This whole thing we're doing was originally meant to be -- kind of a tribute for our buddy Andy Wood." The crowd cheers. "What it ended up being was -- fun, but this next song in particular was written about him -- for him -- a tribute."

Another long pause. "This is the favored, Mike McCready, over here -- he's the crowd pleaser tonight [he gestures] and because he loves to please the audience, he wore his crowd-pleasing shirt, which he has assured me will not be on the entire set." Jeff grabs him from behind and pulls him forward. The shirt is decidedly u-g-l-y, possibly a leftover from his days in Shadow, a leading Seattle-area glam-metal band :).

Chris continues: "I wish I had the authority to give it away, but I don't." Stone's done and is trying to tune. The restless crowd starts chanting something unintelligible. "We're professionals," Chris affectionately lectures the crowd, "We need at least two guitars, we brought three... we could have brought two drummers..." (Probably making reference to Pearl Jam's recently-acquired Dave Krusen.) During this time, we hear all sorts of tiny riffs, one of which bears a suspicious resemblance to Van Halen's "Ain't Talking About Love." Pearl Jam fans will have guessed the culprit: Mike McCready, of course.

"We practiced this part..." They're still tuning. "Say Hello 2 Heaven," Chris says, stalling for time. He grabs the mic from the mic stand and Stone launches into the opening riff. It's rough and choppy; the band lost any momentum they had gained the first number during the lengthy break. Nonetheless, Jeff and Mike are already doing their trademarked interplay, bob-and-weave, in a space measuring maybe three feet. Some things you just can't alter.

"Now it seems like too much love
Is never enough, you better seek out
Another road, 'cause this one has
Ended abrupt...say hello 2 heaven..."

By this verse, they've hit their groove again and Cornell's voice alone could have pulled them through, nicely seguing into Mike's solo. Stone looks over approvingly, grinning ear-to-ear. Mike lets Stone bring it home with the last riff, as he swigs a beer to recover. (Remember, these were Mike's pre-recovery days...)

"Another round for McCready on that one," Chris points, also clearly approving of McCready's axe work. The crowd in turn voices their agreement. We hear that "River of Deceit" riff again, and then Stone takes the forefront, riffing mightily into "Reach Down", Cornell's vocals absolutely doing the groove justice. The crowd finally gets moving on this one, Jeff and Mike banging into each other as well. Matt Cameron sings counterpoint on the chorus, while continuing to play with the energy and consistency that was and is his trademark. This is without a doubt the ultimate version of this song, louder and larger than the demo, far more intense than the album, stronger than the Irvine Meadows rendition. Someone starts crowd surfing, and we glimpse another video camera as it gets out of the way (Matt Cameron has confirmed there were three tapers at this show: our source, a friend of his, and Terry Date, the producer of Soundgarden fame). A lengthy, robust jam ensues in the bridge. Chris is out of sight, or simply camoflagued; perhaps he wisely decided to get out of the way of the Gossard/Ament/McCready machine, as Mike solos as if his life depended on it. The last chorus, Chris still hidden, starts during the tail end of Mike's solo. Following the verse, another solo/jam combination starts again. Matt's back there anchoring it down, hidden but clearly integral to the sound.

"Thank you... thank you very much," Chris says, surprised. He announces the next number: "Call Me A Dog... this is Stone Gossard, master of the pan flute and guitarist/songwriter extraordinaire." [Cheers] "This is just like an intermediate part of that last song, t his is a quiet break of that song, we're gonna just groove right back in..." [We wish!!]

"Call Me A Dog" is, in fact, next. Then, Chris looks out, surveys the crowd, and "Footst..", erm, "Times of Trouble" starts. Another song directly about Andy... the Temple Of The Dog songs about Andy clearly stand out as highly charged emotional and musical moments in this show, and this is no exception.

"When the spoon is hot
And the needle's sharp
And you drift away..."

Chris' intensity calls your attention to the words like you've never heard them before. He's clearly moved and his performance reflects that. Cornell surprises us all by taking the harmonica break at the end.

"This is a song by Mr. Stone Gossard, this next song..." Chris narrates. "If you notice, Mr. Ament here has changed his bass for every single song so far... every single song... he's practicing for one day when that situation might happen," he adds, jokingly. And of course it's even funnier now: sure, hindsight is twenty-twenty, but even watching the show objectively, it is so clear from this performance where these musicians were headed, even in the early days filling the venue with a power and a presence worthy of an audience many, many times the size in front of them tonight.

"Pushin' Forward Back" rocks out next, Mike in full rock star, hair swinging mode. I'd say he was practicing too, except his behavior in Shadow is identical to his demeanor tonight and later with PJ, from what little we've seen of them. Classic McCready in action, even then.

In the break, Mike, as promised, removes the shirt. "Hey, I never noticed this before," Chris shares with us, "Mike, you're an outy! Mike has an outy!" "Pray for us on this song," as (what else?) "Your Savior" starts. It's clear that they're on fire right now, picking up the groove from the last song, despite the between-song recesses. The song ends with Chris and Jeff pogoing wildly in the air, in time with Matt's final beats.

"Thank you... it's been my pleasure. We're gonna bring it down," Chris tell us, and they go into the last number of the evening (or at least on the tape), "Four Walled World," which ends in a rain of wailing guitar, Chris' voice interplaying with Mike's final solo. As the band leaves the stage, we hear a chant that sounds like it could be "Stone-y, Stone-y..." (Sound familiar, PJ fans? *sigh* If only it had stayed that way...)

All in all, a memorable show, and not just for historical reasons. This was a combination of talents that was a force to be reckoned with, even if the Pearl Jam contingent was still fledgling. This was the energy they took with them into the studio to record Temple Of The Dog, and later transformed and refined, became the energy Pearl Jam took into Ten and Soundgarden into Badmotorfinger. This show was supposed to be about Andy, but it wasn't a tribute the same way the album was: tonight wasn't even Chris' night. This show was the core of Pearl Jam incubating into what they would become, Mike overshadowing even the mighty Chris Cornell (by Chris' own admission) without even trying very hard.

And that, of all things, is the best tribute they could have given their friend and bandmate Andy Wood.