Soundgarden

Soundgarden were, in a certain sense, the purists of Seattle grunge, those who best embodied the stereotype of that genre of the 1990s. At the beginning, they represented the “hard” wing of the movement, the one most directly influenced by Led Zeppelin and closest to heavy metal. Ten years later, they instead came to represent a classic style—almost velvety, almost baroque—in which the epidermic jolts of hard rock are still present, but transformed into harmless living-room emotions.

Chris Cornell, a monotonous singer, however emphatic, who tries to imitate Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin and Ozzy Osbourne (sometimes with results that are, truth be told, amateurish), and above all Kim Thayil, a Jimmy Page–like guitarist who doesn’t spare bluesy phrasing and burning staccato, form the backbone of the group. Still, considerable credit goes to the rhythm section (Hiro Yamamoto on bass and Matt Cameron of Skin Yard on drums), perhaps the most original component of their sound. Together, Soundgarden forged one of Seattle’s most creative sounds, a less dull alternative to the cheap heavy metal that was climbing the charts at the end of the decade.

Be that as it may, Thayil’s guitar Grand Guignol defined a standard for the entire Seattle school. In turn, Cornell’s tenor voice reshaped the role of singing in modern rock, often bringing it back to the excesses of the 1950s, when the band existed only as a function of the “shouter.”

Soundgarden made their modest debut with the single “Hunted Down” / “Nothing To Say” (1987) and the EPs Screaming Life (Sub Pop, 1987) and Fopp (Sub Pop, 1988). Cornell dominated the melodic hard rock of the power trio, which simulated well-known riffs but with a still partly punk attitude (“Entering”, “Nothing To Say”).

It was Ultramega OK (SST, 1988) that launched them into the stratosphere of hard rock, making them cult figures of Seattle’s alternative scene and, in fact, kicking off the grunge phenomenon. The album, caught between Black Sabbath (the dark, martial “Beyond The Wheel”) and Led Zeppelin (the agonizing blues of “Incessant Mace”), remains one of the genre’s cornerstones. The standout tracks are mainly Thayil’s: he wrote the anthem “Flower” and the melodic, driving “All Your Lies”. The only real punk rock remnant is the satanic thrash of “Circle Of Power” (with its main riff in 5/4). The blues influence, if anything, is much stronger.

Cornell’s pen takes over on Louder Than Love (A&M, 1989). If the album further indulges in emphatic, raucous walls of sound (“Loud Love”, “Gun”, “Ugly Truth”—the most effective guitar tumult, “Big Dumb Sex”—worthy of Kiss in riff and machismo), the band also shows an increasing inclination to imitate the expressive complexity and harmonic dynamics of Led Zeppelin (“Get On The Snake”, “Uncovered”, “Power Trip”), finding in “Hands All Over” the right balance of wild screams, seismic tremors, and electric shocks—straight out of the manual of “Whole Lotta Love” and “How Many More Times.” The record sold massively and helped launch grunge and the Seattle scene on a global scale.

Cornell also dominates the album by Temple Of The Dog (A&M, 1991), recorded with Gossard and McCready of Mother Love Bone on guitars, Ament on bass (from the same group), and Cameron on drums. “Say Hello To Heaven” is a heartfelt tribute to the late Mother Love Bone singer Andrew Wood, a solemn gospel that remains among Cornell’s vocal masterpieces. But the album is above all Cornell’s personal showcase. It is again his white “shout” that sustains the long blues “Reach Down” for eleven minutes. The sound behind him is that of Mother Love Bone’s stony hard rock, rooted in Led Zeppelin’s blues (echoes of “Dazed And Confused” in “Four Walled World”, written by Gossard), reaching peaks of almost mystical intensity in “Hunger Strike” and moments of moving epic in “Times Of Trouble”, the ultimate requiem-spiritual (also by Gossard, with Rick Parashar on piano). Steeped in profane religiosity (“Wooden Jesus”, with the line “Wooden Jesus, I’ll cut you in twenty percent of my future sin”), in terms of psychological tension and sheer instrumental class, Temple Of The Dog could even be remembered as the masterpiece of the entire Seattle school. Mutatis mutandis, it is the grunge generation’s equivalent of Blind Faith.

“Rusty Cage”, at a galloping pace, and the slow and tortured “Outshined” are the classics of Badmotorfinger (A&M, 1991), with new bassist Ben Shepherd. The record refines the formula with unusual chords a` la Sonic Youth and irregular tempos à la progressive rock, making it one of grunge’s most marketable relics. But despite Cornell’s somewhat pathetic acrobatics, their sound is increasingly rigid, cold, mechanical. Not even the bombastic dramatic setups of “Slaves & Bulldozers” and “Searching With My Good Eye Closed”, nor the mad, blasphemous gallop of “Jesus Christ Posse”, can dispel the impression that this repertoire of hard-rock gestures is becoming self-referential.

In 1993, the first album by Hater was released, a project by John McBain (ex–Monster Magnet) with Shepherd, Cameron, and Brian Wood (ex–Fire Ants), which would evolve into Wellwater Conspiracy.

Cornell and Thayil were at the height of their craft, and Shepherd had brought a gust of originality to the group’s decrepit hard rock. As proof, the tour de force Superunknown (A&M, 1994) definitively crowned Soundgarden champions of Seattle grunge and among the classics of hard rock ever. Abandoning their more conventional heavy-metal poses and rediscovering the allure of gothic and psychedelic sonorities, the band wrote the most linear and rational pages of their history, cleansing the sound of excesses accumulated in recent years, simplifying harmonies to the maximum, and communicating directly with both “metalheads” and non-metalheads. Cornell had firmly taken the helm, and his leadership seemed to benefit the others, more focused and essential than usual. The extravagances (such as multi-layered guitar) were seamlessly absorbed into a smooth flow of sounds. Emblematic of this poised “middle age” artistry are “Head Down”, a show of instrumental mastery infused with psychedelia and raga-rock, and “Black Hole Sun”, a slow, atmospheric piece that incorporates the menacing electronics of British “dark punk.” The blues regained its central role, but slowed down and weighed down horrifically (“Mailman”) or lightened with unusual timbral and rhythmic variations (“Fresh Tendrils”). Soundgarden’s limitation remained the same: how many times can you repeat the hypnotic riffs of “How Many More Times”? “Let Me Drown” (epidermic version), the title track (epic version), and “Spoonman” (frantic/danceable version) are perhaps the three “classic” songs of the album, but all revolve around that same harmonic scheme. What’s more, “Limo Wreck” is yet another revision of the cadaverous riffs of “Dazed And Confused.” Cameron’s drumming style cites John Bonham almost at every turn; not to mention Thayil, who is a clone of Jimmy Page. Cornell, however, had become Soundgarden’s truly original voice, since his modern “shouter” style could give meaning to entire songs (“The Day I Tried To Live”), even animating the most faded performances. If much of the record is simply the culmination of a style long in the making, “Black Hole Sun” represented something truly new and gave the whole album a different tone than the mere concentration of riffs it would otherwise have been.

Down On The Upside (A&M, 1996) cost the group much of the goodwill “Superunknown” (and especially “Black Hole Sun”) had earned them. “Pretty Noose” and “Ty Cobb” are the only tracks with a minimum of verve. The long-winded power ballads “Blow Up The Outside World” and “Tighter & Tighter” relegated them among grunge’s diehards. “Burden In My Hand” at least hit on an intriguing compromise with Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Southern boogie. There was no limit to how boring Cornell could be when his bandmates were out of shape. The album mainly served to remind people how mediocre this group actually was.

A-Sides (A&M, 1997) is an excellent anthology of all the singles by Seattle’s most celebrated band. From Screaming Life comes “Nothing To Say.” From Ultramega OK, only “Flower.” From Louder Than Love their first true classics: “Loud Love”, “Hands All Over”, and “Get On The Snake.” From Badmotorfinger two other milestones: “Rusty Cage” and “Outshined”, along with “Jesus Christ Posse” (a somewhat debatable choice). From Superunknown only three tracks: “Black Hole Sun”, “Spoonman”, “The Day I Tried To Live.” From Down On The Upside surprisingly four: “Burden In My Hand”, “Pretty Noose”, “Ty Cobb”, and “Blow Up The Outside World.” One new track, “Bleed Together”, holds its own.

Soundgarden invented very little, but by exploiting every nuance and sonic detail of an old and overused genre like hard rock, they coined an unmistakable style that catered to the need for “hard” vibrations of an ever-wider audience without resorting to the cheap tricks of heavy metal.

Euphoria Morning (A&M, 1999) is Chris Cornell's first solo album and it harks back to the Temple Of The Dog album rather than to grunge. Cornell shows how uninspired a composer he can be without Thayil and Shepher, but also what an emotional and tantalizing voice he boasts, one of rock's most visceral. The problem is that the role of the vulnerable soul fits him as well as the role of the refugee would fit Saddam Hussein. Backed by two members of Eleven (guitarist Alain Johannes and keyboardist Natasha Shneider), Cornell the tunesmith sounds like a parody of Cornell the hard-rock shouter. With his insisted homage to the school of depressed folksingers, Cornell makes Jeff Buckley turn in his grave. Can't Change Me and Flutter Girl sound like mystical Beatles, Moonchild and Steel Rain are merely catchy. But the falsetto virtuosity of Preaching The End of The World, the dejected ode of Sweet Euphoria and the noir blues of When I'm Down are masterful sculptures of vocal innuendos. When they disbanded, Soundgarden were at their creative peak. This schizophrenic album shows that sometimes Cornell was only the modest singer of a terrific power-trio and sometimes he was the whole band.

In 2000 Cameron joined Pearl Jam. A couple of years later Cornell launched Audioslave.

Cornell resurfaced solo with Carry On (Interscope, 2007), eight years after Euphoria Morning, a terrible hodge-podge of mainstream pop-rock, and Scream (2009), a mismatched collaboration with producer Timbaland. Cornell the songwriter is a parody of Cornell the shouter. His insistent homage to the school of depressed folksingers makes Jeff Buckley turn in his grave.

Telephantasm (2010) is a Soundgarden anthology.

King Animal (2012) was the last Soundgarden album. It is a diligent work but it is mostly repetitive filler past Been Away Too Long and By Crooked Steps.

After the acoustic live album Songbook (2011), Cornell released Higher Truth (2015). Cornell committed suicide in may 2017. The posthumous compilation Chris Cornell (2018) contained the unreleased organ-driven power-ballad When Bad Does Good in the vein of a gospel-soul shouter.