Truly important moments in life come along so rarely that we mostly only realize they happened when we look back on them with the perspective gained from past experience. But sometimes there are moments that matter greatly in the moment. Sometimes something happens that matters so much you know, down to the very core of your being, that it will matter for the rest of your life. I think every gets one of those. Maybe two, if they’re lucky. Most people, I think, hope that moment occurs when they meet the love of their life.
Mine did. After a fashion. It happened in a red minivan on the way from Holland, MI to Wheaton, IL in the spring of 1994. Soundgarden’s “Black Hole Sun” came on the radio. I had never in my 13 years on the planet heard such a song. Before that I’d listened to the oldies station my mother preferred or contemporary Christian music.[1] I was hooked. Superunknown was the first non-Christian album I bought and I still own the original copy I purchased in 1994.
Rock music has been a constant in my life for the past 18 years. Even when I started listening to utter shite it was often Chris Cornell who saved me. I spent about a year in the late ‘90s listening almost exclusively to country[2]. It was Soundgarden’s “Burden in My Hand” that quite literally pulled me out of that tailspin. I was somewhere and it was on a jukebox. I played it and thought, “Holy crap, I love this song. Why do I keep listening to terrible music?” For a couple years at the beginning of the last decade I listened to utter shite. Audioslave started to pull me out of that, but what really mattered was that in late 2003 or early 2004 I pulled a copy of the Temple of the Dog project out of the rack at a used CD store. Next thing I knew I was pulling my Soundgarden back out, grabbing up Pearl Jam bootlegs, and listening to Mother Love Bone for the first time.
I started hitting up live shows around that time, too. I hadn’t really bothered to before. But Local H suddenly mattered to me again and it’s hard to be in Chicago and not find a Local H show every couple weekends. Musically speaking, life was good.
Last weekend I found out Chris Cornell was doing a solo acoustic tour. I then found out he was going to be at HOB Dallas on April 3rd. By this time, not surprisingly, the show was sold out. After thinking about it for about three minutes, though, I pulled the trigger on a $95 general admission ticket off StubHub.
Now, here’s where we hit a snag.
See, I hate the House of Blues Chicago. It’s a terrible venue filled with prick security and idiots who don’t know how to behave at concerts. I saw Flogging Molly at HOB Dallas in February and it was actually really good, closer to seeing a show at the Vic than HOB Chicago. So I had some hopes things would be good. But it was still the fucking House of Blues, so I was worried.
Also, I’ve never seen Soundgarden, Audioslave, or Chris Cornell live. So I was worried about that, too. For one thing, his voice isn’t what it was in 1994. For another, he has a vast and varied catalog by now, but the weakest segment of that, by far, is his solo stuff.
Still, it was Chris Cornell. So paying a premium to see him was worth the risk. I vowed to enjoy myself no matter what.
And HOB Dallas did its best to ruin my attitude. See, at HOB shows the term “General Admission” is synonymous with “milling about on the main floor right in front of the stage.” Last night, though, they’d put seats down on the main floor, so “General Admission” actually meant, “Standing room only in the back by the bar under the balcony, where pretty much everything is obstructed view.”
So that sucked. If I’d realized that was going to be the case I totally would have shelled out more than $95 to get in to the balcony or something. I ended up staking out a spot where I was pretty sure I’d be able to see Chris and just kind of milled about.
Now, meanwhile, I’d decided that there was only one shirt I could have possibly worn to that show that offered proper deference to Chris Cornell. A couple years ago I came to own a spring ’97 Local H tour shirt from when they were out with Silverchair.[3] I think I was the third owner of the thing. I got it as a kinda-sorta gift. But it wasn’t the best gift, as it was a large and I was, most definitely, an extra large at the time. I wouldn’t have been able to fit in to the shirt even if I was willing to risk ruining a relic from the bygone ‘90s.
These days, though, I am most definitely a large. The shirt even seemed a little big when I pulled it on. Still, it felt right.
Only one guy in the crowd seemed to recognize the goodness that I was wearing. I was kind of sad.[4]
Chris opened at nine with some song I didn’t recognize. I decided that didn’t bode well. Then he went in to “Can’t Change Me,” “You Know My Name,” and “Sunshower,” which made me feel better. At least he was playing his good solo stuff. And it was just Chris Cornell and, like, five acoustic guitars up on that stage. Which was pretty damned impressive, really.
And then it happened.
He played “Call Me a Dog.”
Followed by “Fell on Black Days.”
Then “Burden in My Hand.”
Then “I Am the Highway.”
By this point I was completely and totally sold. Then he pulled out a vinyl pressing of Natasha Snyder’s piano track from “When I’m Down” and kicked some ass. At that point he could have gone pretty much anywhere and I would have been happy.
Where he went was in to a cover of Mother Love Bone’s “Man of Golden Words.” I may or may not have lost my shit at that point. It didn’t help that he followed with “All Night Thing” and “Say Hello to Heaven,” so he’d basically pulled out all the deep tracks off the Temple of the Dog album. I mean, would I have preferred “Wooden Jesus” or “Times of Trouble” to “All Night Thing?” Sure. Did I care? Fuck, no.
Just for shits and giggles, he then played “Mind Riot,” then finished the main set with “Like Suicide,” “Like a Stone,” and “Doesn’t Remind Me.”
So at this point he’d played my favorite Soundgarden song (“Like Suicide.” I tend to say it’s “Black Hole Sun” because of the story with which I began this post. But I actually prefer “Like Suicide”) and all of his best solo stuff save “Seasons.” He’d also played two of the best Temple of the Dog songs and covered “Man of Golden Words.” I had something of a rockgasm at that point.
He started the encore with a song I vaguely recognized. So I assumed it was one of the tracks off of Carry On. Turned out it was “Scream,” the title track off of his last album that I like to pretend never happened. But “Scream” is a totally defensible song as a solo acoustic piece. Who knew? That was followed by “Getaway Car” and a good, old fashioned cover of “Imagine.”
When that was followed by “Black Hole Sun” at about the hour forty mark I assumed we were at the finale. I was totally okay with that, too. But then he didn’t stand up. Instead he played a cover of Ghostland Observatory’s “Sad Sad City” and then “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding?”
Then he left the stage for the second time. People started heading for the doors. They apparently hadn’t gotten the memo that YOU DON’T LEAVE A SHOW UNTIL THE HOUSE LIGHTS COME ON. Period. Because what happened next was that he came out for a second encore and played Zeppelin’s “Thank You” and finished with “Wide Awake.”
-------------------------------
As I said, I was a bit worried going in to this show. It was the most I’d ever paid to see a show (well, just for the ticket. If we talk about some of my RCPM-related adventures the numbers might even out). At this point, too, if you’re Chris Cornell and you’re at the House of Blues Dallas on a Sunday night in April what is your motivation?
I mean, think about it. He’s 46 years old. In his life he has been in one of the most important rock acts of his generation. After that act broke up he went on to be in one of the biggest rock acts of the following decade. He’s had a successful solo career that included being the first American to write a theme song for a Bond movie.
Then Soundgarden got back together last year and it was pretty much the biggest story in the world of rock.
He could have gotten away with a workmanlike hour and a half of just his solo stuff or of the radio hits. And while he did play a bunch of the hits, I don’t remember ever hearing “Mind Riot,” “Call Me a Dog,” or “Like Suicide” on the radio anywhere…
Sure, he could have picked four other Chris Cornell songs to play in place of the covers in the two encores. He certainly had the material. And since it was apparently “pick your favorite songs out of the library” night I think I could have asked for “Seasons,” “Out of Exile,” and “Wooden Jesus.” Hell, I could have asked for a hilarious attempt at a solo acoustic version of “Loud Love.”
But, all in all, looking through the Chris Cornell library it’s hard to find a song that he didn’t play that I would have really, really wanted to hear last night. And I heard a bunch of songs that I wasn’t expecting. So, all things considered, it was a fantastic night.
Well worth the money in my book.
-----------------------
[1]DC Talk, bitchez. Also, the irony of putting those words together amused me to know end.
[2]And we’re talking embarrassing ‘90s country pop shit. I are ashamed.
[3]Seriously. Local H and Silverchair. 1997. I miss the nineties.
[4]However, there’s, like, a 90% chance that the guy who noticed just so happened to be the guy from the Toadies. Which is kinda awesome. But what the dude from the Toadies was doing hanging out in the back with the rest of us sinners is beyond me.
Recent Comments