Eddie Vedder: Not A Better Man

Here's what I hate about the song "Better Man" by Pearl Jam: it's supposed to be a heartbreaking, gut-wrenching, emotional rollercoaster of a song. It's got Eddie Vedder's trademark plaintive wail, which he's used to pantomime the pain of others so well before: from the abused daughter in "Daughter" to the abused driver in "Rearviewmirror" to the abused Jeremy in "Jeremy" to... well, pretty much every Pearl Jam song ever written.

It's a tiresome formula, but my distaste for "Better Man" isn't because of the creative retreading--it's because it exposes the hollow core of Eddie Vedder's victim fetish. Before "Better Man," the protagonists of Pearl Jam songs were at least abused, denied the identity of their father, rejected by peers, etc. But the only complaint of the protagonist in "Better Man" is that she can't find a better man. That's her problem, that's her great tragedy: in this age of chatrooms, bars, dating services and unprecedented social networking, she can't find a better man.

I'm reminded of Jerry Seinfeld's bit about women complaining they can't find men. "We're everywhere!" is his reply. Can't find a better man? Lower your standards! If you want a nice guy, there are plenty of ugly men out there who will treat you like a queen. If, as I suspect is supposed to be the case, the protagonist of this song is dating an asshole: tough luck! You're the one who tolerated his frat-boy antics because he's the captain of the football team or whatever. You're the one who dug the shallow pit you've fallen into.

If it were a woman singing the song, there could at least be some measure of experience behind it to make the lyrics ring true. At least when Eddie Vedder sang "Don't call me daughter" there seemed to be some pathos behind the snicker-worthy chorus. But in "Better Man," Vedder is simply pandering. The worst part is, I don't even think he's consciously pandering: he just has such a messiah complex that he really believes he feels the pain of women with less than perfect partners.

I've read the lyrics to this song. There is no mention of abuse, not even verbal. The protagonist of this song is not a victim, just a kvetcher, and a cowardly one at that. This isn't Saudi Arabia: if your man gained some weight since you married him, or he's too busy trying to provide for the family to nurture you all-day long, or he won't go down on you in bed, just leave him! Don't complain, don't watch the clock, don't "dream in colour" or "dream in red" or whatever other meaningless sub-poetic dreck Eddie Vedder spews out. Just go!

You know what angers me the most about this song? Eddie Vedder thinks he's the "Better Man." He feels the pain of menopausal women undergoing midlife crises, he's sensitive, he's compassionate, he probably thinks porn should be illegal and penetration is rape. That's the underlying message of this song: to make women in normal, stable relationships go "Gee, I wish my man was more like Eddie Vedder. He really knows how I feel! He'd never go out on a Friday night to the bar with his friends. He'd stay home and cuddle with me."

Guess what, Eddie. I'm not buying it. You're not a better man. You can try to feel the pain of every rote victim in the world, but you'll never be the sufferer you think you are. You're a rock star. You're a millionaire. You're married to a model. You're real name is Edward Louis Seversen III for Christ's sake! Dream in red all you want, but don't try and pretend it means anything.