When you go and see U2 in concert you expect a religious experience of some kind. And why wouldn’t you? God is on lead vocals after all. And the price of the ticket leads you to believe He’s going to pay you some special attention, forgive you for your sins and send you on your way to begin a new life as a more enlightened individual. You expect too much. It’s all Bono’s fault of course. He puts himself on a pedestal alongside Popes, Presidents and Dalai Lamas, none of whom have anything to do with music.

To make matters worse, my friend and I decided that being a “rock concert” of epic proportions, the whole experience would be enhanced by sparking up a naughty cigarette. The woman sitting next to me immediately shrieked in my ear, righteously instructing me to put it out at once. Then the girl behind tapped me on the shoulder and wagged her finger at me. This kind of lowered the tone of the evening a little bit. Because we were seated I couldn’t get away from these morons – I was stuck with them for the entire show. I never dreamt that in my lifetime I would go to a gig and be told how to behave by a woman old enough to be my mother. Surely this goes against everything that Rock n’ Roll stands for? Sure, you can attempt to impose your draconian values on me any time, but not while I’m in church, trying to worship Bono. I felt like she’d come into my house and lifted her leg on my favourite LPs.

After this minor incident, the Greenpoint stadium started feeling less like a cathedral of Rock and more like a giant Walmart selling an expertly packaged product called U2. When they played I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, Bono was a little quick to quieten the band down and let the crowd sing. It didn’t feel spontaneous; it felt like something they do at every show, his eyes closed in feigned pleasure. To be fair, I was in a pretty bad mood by this point. I can’t help feeling that had I been watching from down on the floor I may have had a very different perspective, taking the whole thing with a pinch of salt and allowing myself to be entertained. I have never enjoyed a concert while sitting down. It’s magical down there in the standing area. The sound is better, the atmosphere is better, and the band is playing to you, not the half-hearted old farts up in the stands who are out for a bit of a show, but not at the expense of their comfort and convenience.

So U2 was a little confusing. Which is why Pearl Jam’s new live album came as a welcome antidote. There are no seats at Pearl Jam concerts. There are no old women monitoring your behaviour. There are no dramatic speeches or crying fans being pulled up on stage for a “life changing moment” in the arms of the lead singer. It’s pretty rough and ready and straight down the line. And because Pearl Jam haven’t stopped touring since the early 90s, their live performances have acquired a kind of cult/mythical status, similar to The Grateful Dead, who toured America performing to Deadheads for decades.

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The energy on Live On Ten Legs is incredible. Eddie Vedder’s got pipes from hell. How he sings like that night in night out I have no idea. His style of singing is much imitated by a raft of some of the world’s worst bands, but no one does it like him. I loved Pearl Jam’s albums Ten, Vs. and Vitalogy. Which is why the songs Animal, Rearview Mirror, In Hiding, Jeremy and Alive get me all excited when I hear them being performed with such wild, focused energy after all these years. And as with all live albums, crowd participation is key: “I’d rather be, I’d rather be, I’d rather be with an ANIMAL!!!” Other songs off more recent albums are great too, like World Wide Suicide, which is super punky and raw, a sound that Pearl Jam have embraced ever since their debut album, Ten, which was perhaps a little over produced. To remedy this, they recently re-released that album, completely re-mastered with a more authentic sound. It’s called Ten Redux. Worth a listen.

It’s great the way Pearl Jam has become an American institution. They got a pretty bad rap as contemporaries of Nirvana who won all the critical acclaim when grunge was born. Americans have a real passion for live music, which is why if you’re a good enough band who really connects with their audience, you can keep touring forever in the U.S. Going to see Pearl Jam in the States is the equivalent of going to see the Stormers play here. It’s part of the culture. That’s probably why this album has such a great, no nonsense feel about it. This is what they do. They play live. No need to roll out the red carpet. I wish they would pop down here every couple of years. I would be there every time, and I’m pretty sure the fun police would be safely tucked up in bed.