There are many ways to process the death of a famous artist or musician. One is the overdone eulogizing and canonization of our fallen heroes that resembles the death of a strongman in a dictatorship (John Lennon and Kurt Cobain being prominent examples of this). Another is the oh-so-clever dismissal of the artist's work as the product of a time and place or "something I listened to when I was young, before I started listen to boring dross to show my other smart friends how classy I am." Some of the latter has emerged in the wake of Chris Cornell's tragic death last week, so I figured I'd lend some thoughts here before showing you the man at his most brutal and powerful.
I'm not a Gen-Xer. I have no memory of grunge in it's heyday and I don't know where I was when Kurt Cobain died (probably in an elementary school classroom). But when I did become passionate about music in the early 2000s, there was an episode of VH1's Behind the Music that left a firm imprint on my musical consciousness. It was the episode that focused on the year 1992. Obviously there was heavy coverage of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, and yes, Soundgarden, along with the Seattle scene and grunge's wider cultural impact. Even though I was born the same year Nirvana formed, there was something about the music that resonated with me. And I'm not the only millennial who feels this way. The heavy guitars, the DIY ethos of the scene and the lyrics about alienation, self-loathing and frustration: these all have a universal appeal.
And while I'm also a gigantic fan for the aforementioned bands, Soundgarden has always held a special place for me. I've never related to any lyrics more than those of Chris Cornell. On songs like "The Day I Tried to Live," "Mailman," "Outshined," and "Blow Up the Outside World," he managed to write about anger, sadness and disappointment without being mawkish, whining or pathetic. Similarly, Cornell and Kim Thayil have written some of the dirtiest, heaviest riffs of all time (which is to say nothing of Matt Cameron...who is a beast!). And of course, there's Cornell's delivery. He was able to use the low octaves without yarling too much, and could hit the high notes without sounding cheesy.
Chris Cornell and Soundgarden are not just relics of the early-1990s. The man's lyrics and the music he made with Soundgarden, Temple of the Dog, in his solo career and the better Audioslave material is great on its own merits. He had a diverse range of stylistic abilities that he should be honored and respected for, and not just because people born between 1964 and 1980 can wax nostalgic about it.
But never mind his experimental side. Cornell and Soundgarden were at their best when they were noisy, heavy and crushing!
And to that point, this is a metal magazine. We like brutal, punishing music. And while the band would often bridle at being called "metal," there's plenty for fans of extreme music to like. So, here's 10 Soundgarden songs we should all remember when we think of Chris Cornell. I've chosen some of the lesser-known stuff here, since most of us already know bangers like "Outshined," "Rusty Cage" and "Hands All Over." Enjoy the insane vocals on "Beyond the Wheel," drool at the heaviness of "Holy Water" and stare in awe as you hear the sound of armageddon on "4th of July."
**OTHER BAND BONUS ROUND**
Wait! Don't go yet! Check out the awesome Morello riff on "Set it Off!" And listen to what Jeff Ament and Stone Gossard were once capable of on "Your Savior" (and "Pushing Forward Back")!?
And hey, don't forget our recent issue with Soundgarden on the cover, talking about their classic debut, Ultramega OK.
