I'm sad that Chris Cornell of Soundgarden died.
So is everyone who spent a portion of the 1990s wearing flannel shirts, Doc Martens and black lipstick, attending Lollapalooza and rewatching Singles (the terrible 1992 Matt Dillon movie with a relatively terrific soundtrack featuring two Cornell compositions -- one Soundgarden, one solo -- and yes, I had to look that up).
His suicide at age 52 is nothing short of devastating.
But I can't pretend it is a profound loss for me on a personal level.
And that's because I was a total poser.
I was a fake fan. I'm sure I had seen him at a concert tour, but I can't remember, as I was more concerned about being seen. I didn't own a CD, though I listened to my cooler college roommate Alison's copy of 1994's Superunknown, (and yes I had to look that up) when she played it in our apartment.
Even glancing at the track listing now, I can remember only two singles -- "Fell on Black Days" and "Black Hole Sun" (with that distressing screeching at the end.) No, I recall three -- I do remember "Spoonman." Well, I remember not understanding and not liking "Spoonman." Here are some of the lyrics (which I had to look up too):
Spoonman, come together with your hands
Save me, I'm together with your plan
What did that even mean anyway? I ask my cooler colleague across the aisle, Sean Clancy. He reveals that Spoonman was an actual guy, a street artist in Seattle. He appeared in Soundgarden's song and video. Oh. I feel stupid.
But Sean, who knows all about the band's earlier and better recordings, agrees it's an awful song. I feel better. Not really. Seriously, Soundgarden had other albums?
Apparently the group had a bunch of them. Superunknown was their fourth, preceded by Ultramega OK (1988), Lounder Than Love (1989) and Badmotorfinger (1991). How did I not know that? Because I was too busy jamming to pop like Milli Vanilli, Tone Loc and Color Me Badd back then.
As if I ever really stopped. Admittedly, I only embraced grunge when it had become wholly mainstream, and I was relieved when it retreated back into its angsty bedroom where it belonged. Even when I semi-embraced the harder 1990s sound and look during phases of my college career, I always favored the fluff. I still do. Which is why I never never bothered checking out later Soundgarden albums, Down on the Upside (1996) and King Animal (2012), or Cornell's band, Audioslave, and solo work.
At Sean's recommendation, I did listen to Cornell's unplugged growly remake of Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean." It made my ears bleed. Like a ghastly cross between Eddie Vedder, and, no kidding, Michael Bolton.
While I'm confessing my lameness here, I'll acknowledge I never loved Pearl Jam either. And I have a soft spot for Bolton. There, I said it.
Back to Cornell, I feel sorry for his pain. And for his family. And for his true fans, like Alison, who posted to social media an obituary with a heartfelt "So sad. End of an era."
Not to sound insensitive, but I thought that era had ended earlier. Truthfully, I thought Cornell, who famously struggled with addiction, already had passed away.
Wasn't he on VH1's Celebrity Rehab With Dr. Drew before dying of an overdose in 2011? Oh, that was Mike Star of Alice in Chains.
Well, then who was the rocker who overdosed back in 2015? Oh, that was Scott Weiland. And he was not in Soundgarden but Stone Temple Pilots.
Still, I'm sad Cornell died.
And I'm also sad I must turn in my grunge card now.
Email:
jchristman@arkansasonline.com
What's in a Dame is a weekly report from the woman 'hood. You can hear Jennifer on Little Rock's KURB-FM, B98.5 (B98.com) from 5:30-9 a.m. Monday through Friday.
Style on 05/23/2017