RIP, Chris Cornell

I hate it that you never really appreciate your heroes until they're gone.

I got hooked on Soundgarden after getting turned onto Superunknown after my friends started listening to it.  Soundgarden set themselves apart from Nirvana and Pearl Jam in that they understood and, if not embraced, accepted the commercial and marketing aspects of promoting their music.  I remember back when the Internet was breaking, going on my brother's Prodigy account (remember Prodigy?) and seeing Cornell answer some fan's message or e-mail about how he makes a song.  Seeing that has just stuck with me.  In a sense, that's how I got hooked on Soundgarden.  And Superunknown is, in my estimation, The Best Record I Have Ever Heard.

I don't have too many people I revere.  Shit, I guess I don't really revere anyone who hasn't sucked my dick.  (I don't mean to be glib, but that's the truth.)  But when it comes to music, I don't know if there is any band and/or artist I love more than Soundgarden.  John Mellencamp, maybe (and this reminds me that he's going to be in concert at the State Fair this summer -- mental note: See him before he's gone).  But yeah, it's Soundgarden.  Cornell's one-of-a-kind caterwauling, the band's obsession and mastery of fucked-up time signatures, and the ability to coax hits and killer riffs out of oblique and morbid lyrics is something I don't think anybody else can match.  I should give King Animal another try; "By Crooked Steps" is getting to be a song that stands alongside the band's best.

I remember my Resident Advisor telling me at my dorm room door that Soundgarden broke up.  That was my senior year at USC, 1998.  If Nirvana's Nevermind reaching #1 on the Billboard album chart was The Birth Of Grunge, the first break-up of Soundgarden was The Death Of Grunge.  As depressing as that genre of music is, it felt as though nothing good could ever last.  I'm still bummed about it.

But after a quick solo record (a song of which I'll end this blog post with), he hooked up with Rage Against The Machine sans Zach de la Rocha to form Audioslave.  And in the wake of the post-grunge, pre-emo rock era, that band's eponymous debut album probably saved rock from getting permanently castrated.  I'm serious about that.  Anchoring it all was Cornell again -- his voice, his songwriting, his ability to make songs that are both great and can top the charts.  To be able to do that with two bands?  Fucking genius.

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I had heard he had a history with drugs, but that may only be because I believe every person in a grunge band had a history with drugs.  I really had no idea Chris Cornell dealt with depression.  And I had no belief that he would take himself out like he did last week, hanging himself in a haze of anti-anxiety medication ... although, if TMZ is correct, he may have shot himself up with drugs that day.  Soundgarden was a grunge band, but because of its commitment to promote their albums, they seemed to be the most professional band in The Grunge Era.  You can't really be fucked up if you do that.

I don't really do concerts.  But as a testament to my loyalty to him, I saw him on his solo tour at the Fitzgerald in St. Paul Easter Sunday of 2011, and I saw Soundgarden when I was vacationing in Kansas City in 2013.  I got the full-blown Chris Cornell Experience: His chops and charisma (and voice) fronting Soundgarden, and his more contemplative, tender work as, in his maturing days, a true singer-songwriter.  (Euphoria Morning doesn't get enough love, and his last single from his latest solo album, "Nearly Forgot My Broken Heart" from Higher Truth, is another song that should stand the test of time.)  I won't say those concerts were life-altering; sorry, I just don't see concerts that way.  But those concerts were fucking fantastic.

Finally, I have to say that his first single from his first solo record, EM's "Can't Change Me," is My Favorite Song Of All-Time.  It replaces, actually, Soundgarden's "4th of July," which I will still play every Independence Day.  "Can't Change Me" strikes me on a very personal level.  I have heard Cornell say that it is just a song where he tried to change his personality and behavior but realized that he didn't give a shit about what people thought of him.  They say that once someone releases a song to the world, it's not really that person's song anymore, and so I would rather love it for the reasons I want to think of "Can't Change Me": I know I should change, I know I can be a better person, but I have realized that at the end of it all, I have to be me, for better and for worse, because I am all that I have.  So, I will remain the deeply flawed and imperfect person that I am now.  And if you don't like it -- well, it's not "Go fuck yourself," which may be what Mr. Cornell would say, it's "I'm sorry."  That's how I want to take Mr. Cornell's song.

A couple guys who attended the show at the Fitz surreptitiously videotaped it.  "Can't Change Me" was, if I recall correctly, the third song he did.  It was on YouTube, and I would love to embed it here, but some time ago it was pulled down for some reason.  Alright; I will post an acoustic performance of the song he did in conjunction with a promotional push by, of all companies, Wal-Mart.  You know, none of his fans felt he sold out.  That's a testament to his character, maturity, and talent.  This is the way I want to remember him.

Rest In Peace, Mr. Cornell.