This review is part of a series looking back at significant albums on their anniversaries. Through the benefit of hindsight we will be viewing the album not just as it was released, but how it stands the test of time, as well as its place in the band’s discography and the genre in general.
Columbia Records – 29 Sep 1992
Revisiting the suffocatingly dark Alice In Chains masterpiece.
I can distinctly remember seeing Alice In Chains for the first time, more than three decades ago. It was June of 1991, and I had just graduated from high school. They were the opening act for the Clash of the Titans tour, which featured Megadeth, Anthrax, and Slayer. All three were ascending, but arguably at their creative (though not necessarily commercial) peaks. Bay Area thrashers Death Angel were originally slated to open. They would have been much more appropriate, but they had to pull out when their drummer was seriously injured in a car accident.
Alice In Chains had dropped their debut album, Facelift, 10 months earlier. “Man in the Box” was starting to get some serious traction on local radio. They weren’t complete unknowns, but style-wise they stuck out like a sore thumb. They faced a bunch of skeptical headbangers, but they won the majority of us over. I only saw them one more time, after the release of their 1992 masterpiece Dirt. They were the penultimate act at Lollapalooza 1993, (when it was a tour), and were stealing the show night after night with their jaw-dropping performances.
But I digress. Let’s get back to Dirt. While Facelift was a great debut record, the band that recorded it was still a work in progress. AIC hadn’t completely thrown off the chains of the decade that gave us “Nothing but a Good Time” and “Pour Some Sugar on Me”. Half the record was pure genius, but the other half felt like leftovers from another era. By the time the Dirt sessions rolled around, the band’s songwriting was laser focused and razor sharp. What was it focused on? Depression. Addiction. Hopelessness.
For Alice In Chains, to move forward was to look back. Dirt was a drug-fueled dirge reminiscent of the ones Black Sabbath was making two decades before. It was consistently heavy and generally slow. never getting faster than mid-tempo. It managed to hold on to its dark tone for nearly an hour across 13 songs. The music on opener “Them Bones” was comparatively upbeat, but the lyrics to the hit song told a different story. “I feel so alone/Gonna end up a big ole pile a them bones.” “Dam That River” has one of the all time great down-tuned grunge riffs.
“Rain When I Die” slows things down, and was just some guys in their mid 20s contemplating their own deaths. Nothing to see here. “Down in a Hole” kept the speed at a crawl and was even bleaker. (The sequencing is different on the LP than the CD. On the CD this was the second to last track.) “Down in a hole/Losing my soul.” “I’d like to fly/But my wings have been so denied.” The verses of “Sickman” had a pulsing tribal rhythm, but the refrain broke down into a more familiar dirge. Side A ended with the now radio standard “Rooster”, guitarist Jerry Cantrell’s ode to his Vietnam veteran father.
Side B opens with “Junkhead”, and it was almost astounding how open the band was about their drug use. “What’s my drug of choice?/Well what have you got?/I don’t go broke/And I do it a lot.” The title track again contemplated death. “I want you to kill me/And dig me under/I wanna live no more.” “God Smack” will always remind me of the many lousy imitators that arrived in Alice In Chains’ wake. Still, it’s another great, dark track. “What in God’s name have you done/Stick your arm for some real fun.”
Next up was the unlisted, 43 second “Iron Gland” featuring Slayer singer Tom Araya. Normally I’m not a fan of these kinds of joke songs. In this case, the record is so suffocatingly bleak that it’s a welcome respite. “Hate to Feel” is another not so subtle drug song. “Pin cushion medicine/Used to be curious/Now the shit’s sustenance.” The overall sense of doom doesn’t relent with “Angry Chair”, which had another great disembodied riff. It’s a personal favorite that linked a painful childhood experience to the band’s current state of desperation.
Closer “Would?” was another hit that had appeared on the Singles soundtrack a couple months earlier. It was written by Cantrell as a tribute to his friend and Mother Love Bone frontman Andrew Wood, who died of a heroin overdose in 1990. It’s hard not to see the parallels between Wood and AIC singer Layne Staley, who was also clearly in the grips of addiction. The song was not entirely devoid of hope. Instead it hauntingly left things open ended. “If I would, could you?”
Most people know the rest of the Alice In Chains story. The classic lineup somehow managed to release one more proper full length in 1995. The self-titled album incorporated acoustic elements that the band had previously relegated to EPs, and was a different animal. Like Facelift, it was good but wasn’t on the same level as Dirt. By 1996, Staley’s addiction made it nearly impossible for the band to perform. You can’t help but wonder how much more amazing music could have been made. He finally succumbed to his illness in 2002, ending that sad chapter in the band’s history.
Maybe most surprisingly, that wasn’t the end of the Alice In Chains story. In 2006 the surviving members reformed the band with new singer William DuVall. (DuVall had previously been in Comes with the Fall, Neon Christ, Bl’ast!, and Giraffe Tongue Orchestra.) Since then the band has released three new full lengths and continues to tour and record. For the record, I think DuVall is a good fit. The newer Alice In Chains records are surprisingly good, even if they’ll never have any chance of reaching the heights of Dirt.
I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed revisiting Dirt to write this retrospective review. I think it’s impressive that it spoke to me as a 19-year-old, and still speaks to me as I’m approaching 50. “All this time I swore I’d never be like my old man/What the hay it’s time to face exactly what I am.” This band and record certainly belong on the Mount Rushmore of grunge. It has aged far better than most of its contemporaries. As strange as it seems, this dark music has a way of lifting your troubled spirit. That’s something we need at least as much in 2022 as we did in 1992.
For vinyl fiends: Obviously, there have been many versions of this record over the years. There is a new, remastered two LP version of Dirt to celebrate its 30th anniversary. I haven’t heard it, but I’m not a big fan of unnecessarily making something a double record. Especially in cases like this where it doesn’t even have any bonus material. That being said, it probably sounds great. I can only vouch for/recommend the Euro import 180 gram version on the Music On Vinyl label.
Part-time punk writer, suburban dad and angry old man. Follow my adventures on the Punk Till I Die podcast!
