BIOGRAPHY: ALICE IN CHAINS

Heavy metal was every bit as crucial an ingredient as punk in the mix of influences that became Seattle grunge. Though often underrated next to more celebrated grunge progenitors such as Nirvana, Mudhoney, and Soundgarden, Alice in Chains' slow-grind roar may be even more influential; later bands such as Godsmack (named after an Alice song), System of a Down, and Creed would be unimaginable without them.

That said, the quartet's output was relatively small and its accomplishments undercut by singer Layne Staley's long-running battle with heroin, which prematurely broke up the band and eventually took his life in 2002. That tragic history is presaged by "We Die Young," the first song on the band's debut album. Death, drugs, and the struggle to transcend both would be the band's enduring themes, and Alice created a signature sound that fit the dire imagery. It's heard to devastating effect on "Man in the Box," the defining moment on Face Lift: guitarist Jerry Cantrell's black-angel chords distended by a relentless wah-wah pedal, with Staley moaning in harmony.

Staley's hell-awaits wail, augmented by monks-of-doom harmonies, is as eerie as mainstream metal gets in the '90s, Seattle's version of Black Sabbath's '70s encounters with Beelzebub. Essential to the atmosphere is Cantrell's guitar playing, a slow-motion death spiral that places a premium on space and density. The rhythm section specializes in slow burn; uptempo moods, like humor, are virtually nonexistent in the Alice lexicon. Dirt is a contender for bleakest multiplatinum album in rock history. It contains Alice's best-known song, the unusually melodic "Would?," which also appears on the soundtrack to Cameron Crowe's movie Singles. But the album's dark heart lies in the remorseless "Sickman," "Godsmack," "Hate to Feel," and "Junkhead," in which Staley distills his self-destructive attitude with a chilling offhandedness: "What's my drug of choice? Well, what have you got?" Cantrell's "Rooster," about a war veteran, paints a different, equally riveting portrait of against-the-odds survival.

Jar of Flies may have been designed as a stopgap between major albums but the seven-song EP sounds like Alice's answer to Led Zeppelin III -- an inspired change of pace. Staley's voice floats over acoustic guitars, harmonica, and strings, and the melodies are among the band's most durable. But with the singer's health deteriorating, Alice begins repeating itself on its final studio album, Alice in Chains. Its legacy is kept alive by a steady stream of vault-clearing retrospectives, none of which matches the impact of the original studio creations. (GREG KOT)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide