As I prepared to cover my first “big arena” show, Pearl Jam, on Sept. 19 at the Credit Union Centre, I was overwhelmed with memories from the last 20-odd years.

Triggering these memories, and aiding me in my pursuit to write an article that would do justice to a band that profoundly affected me in my youth, was the soundtrack to Cameron Crowe’s new documentary, Pearl Jam Twenty.

Crowe’s aptly-titled film looks back at Pearl Jam’s first two decades as a band.

Twenty years after the release of their first album Ten, few of their peers can claim the longevity or the diverse repertoire of Pearl Jam.

While I was wisely taught by my esteemed professors at the U of S to refrain from relying on Wikipedia as a source, I was curious as to how the online encyclopedia classified each of Pearl Jam’s nine studio albums.

I came across terms such as “grunge,” “experimental rock,” “alternative,” “post-grunge,” “psychedelic rock,” “folk rock” and “new wave-inspired” — descriptors too numerous to list.

After having shared the bill with the likes of Ministry and Rage Against the Machine early in their careers, and Neil Young and Tom Petty a few years later (not to mention their collaborative efforts with Cypress Hill on the Judgment Night soundtrack, a stellar album that also saw Mudhoney and Sir Mix-A-Lot join forces), it is an exercise in futility to try and apply such labels.

Let’s be honest: it’s only rock ‘n’ roll but we like it.

When Ten was released on Aug. 27, 1991, the so-called grunge scene was still in its mainstream infancy — that is, a beautifully angry cultural force by the name of Nirvana had only just released Nevermind.

It was not their first album but it was the first of their masterpieces to be heard by those unfamiliar with the burgeoning scene in Seattle, Wash.

I clearly remember the night Kurt Cobain’s angst-riddled growl first pierced the air that I breathed. I was taping the video to “Don’t Cry” by Guns N’ Roses on my parents’ VCR and, as Axl Rose and Co. wrapped up their classic ballad, I was about to stop recording when the first few notes of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” unleashed themselves upon my unsuspecting ears.

I let the tape roll.

I wish I still had that tape because in it I could claim to have captured the very moment that my foundations were forever shaken by a musical revolution comparable to few in history.

Love, heartbreak, rebellion, teenage angst — through a musically-inspired journey we are returned to another time and, sometimes it would seem, another lifetime.

One day G n’ f n’ R, Motley Crue and Skid Row were among my most overplayed cassette tapes and, seemingly overnight, that all changed.

Suddenly I was listening to Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, Smashing Pumpkins, Soundgarden, Sonic Youth and Dinosaur Jr.

Unfortunately, one of the bands that never made it into my musical rotation in my younger years was Mudhoney, the opening act to Pearl Jam on their current tour across Canada.

While Mudhoney had a significant impact on the Seattle-scene, they were not embraced by the mainstream.

If a band wasn’t getting heavy airplay on MuchMusic, MTV or commercial radio, their music rarely emerged from “the underground.”

Some things never change.

Ironically, Mudhoney’s lead singer, Mark Arm, has been credited as the individual who first coined the term “grunge.” He deflects the attention, saying that he obviously heard it elsewhere first. Mudhoney was seemingly left out of the list of acts that defined a genre they had been so instrumental in creating.

Prior to the formation of Pearl Jam, the band’s two founding members, Stone Gossard and Jeff Ament, performed as Green River with Arm and Mudhoney’s lead guitarist, Steve Turner. They went their separate ways in 1987, but these individuals were among the pioneers of a scene that forever changed rock music.

While I didn’t have any vivid memories to recount while I watched Mudhoney perform on Monday night, I did have the satisfaction of knowing that future memories were being captured somewhere in my subconscious.

As for Pearl Jam’s two and a half hour set, what is there to say? They blew the roof off the joint.

The highlight, to be sure, was their rendition of “Running Back to Saskatoon” by the Guess Who.

While Eddie Vedder forgot almost all the lyrics the first time through, with a little help from an audience member, the six of them, along with the thousands of electric fans, did justice to that prairie tune.

In the same strange way that the scent of an air freshener can put people back into the driver’s seat of their first vehicle, when hearing those songs that make up the soundtracks to our lives, the music triggers memories and — whether we welcome them or not — the emotions that accompany them.

For me that vehicle was a Dodge “K” car, the scent was the pizza I was delivering and the sound was that of Pearl Jam.

The emotions that accompany these memories are certainly not mine alone.

Love, heartbreak, rebellion, teenage angst — through a musically-inspired journey we are returned to another time and, sometimes it would seem, another lifetime.

This is one of the many reasons I cherish music more than any of my other passions. Not only does music possess the ability to act as a companion when we are alone or share with us the bliss of life and love, perhaps music provides humanity with the only method of time travel we will ever know.

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photo: Jason Stockfish