Skip to main content

1994 In Review: Alice In Chains - "Jar of Flies"


Upon its original release twenty years ago today, there wasn't a lot of hoopla surrounding Alice in Chains' second EP. A tidy seven song package designed to hold over fans eagerly anticipating a follow-up to their breakthrough sophomore album Dirt, Alice in Chains' Jar of Flies certainly didn't feel like a major event. Thought of as a sombre addendum to Dirt and a baby brother to Sap (the 1992 EP that preceded Dirt), it didn't strike anyone as more than a place for lighter and/or weaker material.

We couldn't be blamed for lowered expectations; Sap, while home to a few worthy tracks, didn't take itself too seriously and didn't leave much of a lasting impression. However, Jar of Flies was soon discovered to be no mere stopgap release. The playing, acoustically leaning is it was, had the same weight as Dirt's best moments; it's apparent from the opening seconds of Rotten Apple that real care was taken to give these songs not just a chance to exist, but to thrive in the environment. 

The real shock in listening to Jar of Flies, even twenty years later, is that every song deserves to be there. Silly distractions are kept to a minimum; unlike Sap, where any sense of earnestness is deflated by embarrassing hidden track Love Song, and even Dirt, a very serious album that couldn't help but riff comically on Iron Man. Even its loosest moments have meaning; closer Swing On This could have easily degenerated into the same schlock and awe as Love Song, but pulls itself together with its nice, hefty choruses.

It's difficult to pick a highlight, but for me it's practically a five-way tie between everything aside from Whale And Wasp (a capably performed instrumental that nonetheless smacks just a little of filler) and Swing On This. The other five all have merit and, depending on your mood, pack quite the punch. There's tremendous heart and guts on display, and lifting some of the crunch from their trademark sound reveals a band whose emotions were best served raw.

Alice in Chains would go on to release one more album with Layne Staley as principal vocalist before drugs started to take the ultimate toll on the revered singer. 1995's self titled album was (in this guy's opinion) a triumph, but even there you can tell the difference a year and change on drugs can make. Often meandering, sometimes bewildering, it's more suitable as a case study than a record. So, in many ways, Jar of Flies was the last time we heard Staley's true voice, the one still fighting his demons rather than being defeated by them. In this context, haunting ballad Don't Follow feels much more haunted than even Alice in Chains closer Over Now. It's a beautiful, sad, heartbreaking track that (correctly) predicts a bleak future for its narrator.

It's true that Alice in Chains would soldier on, eventually recruiting William Duvall and making new music. But (as far as Layne is concerned) Jar of Flies feels like the band's most poignant statement, especially given what the coming years were to bring. If Dirt was the acknowledgment of the problem and the self titled album was admission of defeat, Jar of Flies spoke to the uncertainty of it all that most of us can relate to (albeit on a smaller scale). It surprised twenty years ago, and it still resonates today.

January 25, 1994 • Columbia
Highlights Nutshell • I Stay Away • Don't Follow

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Year in Rock 2025

  Alright, I've got some explaining to do.   By now anyone who's visited this blog is well aware of how infrequently I've used this space in recent years; aside from the occasional fertile year of content, I really haven't posted all that often over the last five years or so. There are many reasons for this, which have already been outlined in previous apology posts; but, essentially, it boils down to my own laziness and the cold reality that blogs are, like Refused (again), fucking dead. So, I wouldn't hold my breath for a triumphant return to reviews, or even semi-regular posts, but:   a) I feel like Year in Rock posts have always belonged here and, even though I've experimented with different methods of presentation recently and been satisfied, the "blink and you missed it" unveiling via Facebook stories this year was perhaps ultimately a disservice to the records I lauded. After all, cramming the list into short videos isn't too far off from ju...

Year in Rock 2011 Nominee: Sam Roberts Band

SAM ROBERTS BAND I Feel You From: Collider Released: May 10 Having already endured the breakout success ( Brother Down was Canada's it rock song of 2002), the tentative dabbling in the U.S. market, as is the rite of passage for all moderately successful Canuck artists (2003's debut We Were Born in a Flame was the best time to try; one of the best albums of the year, it made a small dent in the American mindset upon its release there a year later), the difficult, druggy third album (the aptly named 2005 disc Chemical City ), and the subdued creative step backward (2008's Love at the End of the World , aside from hit single Them Kids , was really kinda bland), it seems according to script that Sam Roberts would start settling in on his fourth album (and first with the band credited as equal contributors), Collider (you know, I think it was a bad idea to give me brackets). Well, as far as settling in goes, Roberts does and doesn't on Collider .  W...

IN REVIEW: Rancid - "Trouble Maker"

As far as punk rock goes, it's hard to name a hotter hot streak than the trio of records Rancid cranked out between 1995 and 2000; the star making ...And Out Come the Wolves , the far-reaching Life Won't Wait and their balls-to-the-wall second self-titled album solidly positioned Rancid as leaders of the second generation of punk. It also preceded a period of slow progression, as Rancid would take eleven years to release their next three records. By the time ...Honor Is All We Know came in 2014, many fans (myself included) had to wonder whether or not this was the end of the road. Such concerns are handily dealt with on the closing track of the standard edition of their ninth record, the positively punishing This Is Not the End . Well, okay then, that's sorted. Now, what of this new record? What do we make of the use of their original logo on the cover, a logo that hasn't graced a Rancid record in 25 years? Is this a throwback to the band's heyday, a new begin...