reCAP :: Chris Cornell :: 2016.06.25
I grew up on Top 40 stuff. Madonna. Billy Joel. Bon Jovi. The list goes on as long as the videos MTV used to play. Like most kids, I was hooked on the melody and accompanying music videos instead of the meaning of the song. It wasn’t until high school and college that I realized music meant so much more. It could transport you - make you feel, relate, and shape who you are and who you wanted to become.
For me, the ‘90s Seattle grunge movement did just that. It was loud, raw, free of gimmicks, and rich on rage and reality. If you watch the 1991 Pearl Jam documentary “20” by Cameron Crowe, it truly captures the birth, rise, and fall of so many acts out of King County from Pearl Jam, which grew out of Mother Love Bone, to Nirvana, Alice in Chains, and Soundgarden. Speaking of the latter, Soundgarden became one of the bands to really ride the grunge wave. And while they’ve been gone (more or less) for decades, lead singer Chris Cornell has never stopped making music since he screeched about feeling Minnesota but looking California. While with that groundbreaking group, he lent his talent to Soundgarden/Pearl Jam side projectTemple of the Dog, and notably later in his career, led the post-Rage Against the Machine supergroup Audioslave. Interspersed between the “banddom” were solo albums that showcased a more restraint Cornell with often stripped down tracks.
At the Capitol Theatre on June 25, Cornell brought the latter vibe to life. The Acoustic “Higher Truth” Tour (his most recent album of the same name came out in September) may have been a lot quieter than previous Cornell incarnations, but the crowd reaction was just as excited as if it was a classic show in 1990s Seattle. Smiles were as wide as those exaggerated in the classic yet disturbing Soundgarden music video for their arguable biggest hit “Black Hole Sun,” and the energy off-stage matched the energy on stage. That’s saying a lot when you consider Cornell played a two-and-a-half-hour, tour-de-force set.
Armed with just his guitar by his side or his talented tag-team partner Bryan Gibson, who did things to a cello I’m convinced a cello never knew it could, the night was an intimate journey through Cornell’s own catalog matched with covers from beloved artists from Prince to Led Zeppelin to Bob Dylan. Speaking of the latter, he changed the chorus of the classic “The Times They Are A-Changin” to represent the one percent. A standing “O” followed as it did numerous times throughout the night as he unleashed his own solo tracks, along with standouts from Audioslave, Temple of the Dog, and - of course - Soundgarden.
It’s hard to single out highlights from a 28-song set, but I’ll try anyway. His and Gibson’s take of Superunknown’s classic “Fell on Black Days” was breathtaking, adding layers to an already hard-felt song. His homage to beloved but short-lived Seattle supergroup Mad Season (“River of Deceit”) was poignant. His cover of Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean,” which he’s done for years, took on new meaning in this date marked the seventh anniversary of the King of Pop’s death. Obviously “Black Hole Sun” got the biggest pop of the night, but personally Audioslave’s “I Am the Highway,” the first of three songs during his encore, resonated more for me personally (listen to those lyrics), and a cover of his own song killed: the Johnny Cash version of the Soundgarden classic “Rusty Cage.” Oh, and don’t get me started on his take on The Beatles’ “A Day in the Life.”
Altogether the evening played out like the Soundgarden or Audioslave Unplugged or VH1 Storytellers show that somehow was never made. Cornell told stories before songs, and found time to poke fun at himself about missing lyrics or having to stop a song midway through because something – “probably spit” – flew into his mouth. Naturally, a chug of water on the latter, was all he needed to pick up where he left off.
It’s funny, the singer/songwriter kicked off the show with a new song - “Before We Disappear” – and it really summed up the vibe of the entire night. The song essentially tells us to live in the moment. Cornell’s policy/ushers made sure we all did. There were no cellphone pics or video allowed during the show. Sure, the audience tried anyway but what a breath of fresh air it was to focus on the music and the artist on stage. For one night, it was nice to return to the era of “no flash photography” - enjoying old songs, appreciating new ones, and above all – living in the now.