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| Burn bright, fade away, etc. Soundgarden, Starlight Theatre, KCMO, May 14, 2017 |
Sunday night I went shopping for Willie Nelson and Tom Petty tickets. I ended up at the Soundgarden show. It was Mother's Day, and we'd gathered at the folks, and it was nice. Then, I was restless. Truth be told, I was restless on the spot, because family gatherings tend these days to a reflection of my own shitheadedness on many levels. It shouldn't be uncomfortable. Sometimes, it is.
The tickets were cheap. It was a thirty-five dollar show, or something like that. Heads, I'd be going. Tails, well...I'd have Nebraska or Acadia or Eagle to blame. It was heads, of course.
The Soundgarden was sold for liquor years ago. It hasn't been replaced. Of all the bands that took major hits during the liquor-fueled selldown, none were hit harder than Soundgarden. Other bands were cleaned out as well, Sonic Youth, Spoon, and too many others to mention here bit the bottle.
There have been moments of reconsideration of this rule once established around here: Any record could be sold, I just wouldn't have permission to replace it. For the most part, this has been adhered to around this place. I picked up a copy of Eric Clapton's "Slow Hand" a few year's back, but I had made an exception to that purchase. It had an exemption. There may or may not be further exemptions.
"Kill 'Em All" was the one I couldn't sell. I knew I was done drinking, but didn't know quite how it was going to occur. I think someone offered me $3 for the thing, and I was in bad fucking shape, but I wasn't in that bad a shape quite yet. It appears "...And Justice For All" was hawked. That one surprises me a little, but not too much. Anyway, it was a matter of days after that "Kill 'Em All" incident that I was done. Maybe that's when all the Soundgarden bit the dust.
Chris Cornell was my drinking buddy. He didn't know me, but I'm sure he'd met thousands of me, everyday, and all over the world.
Very few bands or artists bring with them today a vivid memory of my first exposure to the product. The late Philip Pell introduced me to Soundgarden sometime in 1989 or 90 in Rick McCaffrey's class. I might be a year too high, but I think this is the timeframe. I didn't know who Soundgarden was, and my first listen provided evidence that it was rubbish, but a hell of a lot better than the subject matter of the class. All subsequent listens brought a whole lot of something else.
I didn't know how many of Soundgarden's songs had been committed to memory until Sunday night. It was a gorgeous night in Kansas City. Absolutely beautiful night for Starlight Theater. Cloudless, with just a light breeze to move the air about a bit. I sang along for the better part of the show.
The show was damn impressive. The thought crossed my mind more than once to make a point of seeing these guys should they ever come again. I hadn't seen them live in better than twenty years, unless I have blacked out one or more of their shows. It is certainly possible. I think Lollapalooza is the last time I saw them live, though. I was with a pretty chick for that show. I wonder what the hell she was thinking. She was wearing a watch, but she always wore a watch.
This show there weren't any accomplices. When a person buys tickets for a show thirty-five minutes in advance, there sometimes isn't a great deal of foresight or planning involved. Mostly, I sat in the back row. I spent a lot of the time looking up in the cloudless sky, a lot of time singing. So much of it mindless (at first) but reflective. Soundgarden had been a pretty damn big part of my life. Going up to Starlight on this Mother's Day was one of the damnedest coin tosses I'd ever won.
What had it meant, that I'd given up the Soundgarden for a buzz? That is something I'm still trying to figure out, but going to that concert shook me a bit. More than a bit, but it was more or less expected. I didn't figure the Soundgarden crowd to be terribly sober. It wasn't.
Sunday be damned, this was a hell of a party for a lot of folks. The band finally took the stage around 8:45. I looked at my phone. These days, I always seem to have to look at the phone. Then, they played one of the best rock shows I've seen in my life. I thought often of recording some of the numbers. I decided against it. Perhaps a coin should have been tossed. I just didn't want to feel like a douche recording something on my phone when I was enjoying the live experience as much as is possible (for me at least.)
The Set List (Stolen directly from Tim Finn's review at the KC Star):
Incessant Mace; Hunted Down; All Your Lies; Spoonman; Outshined; Black Hole Sun; Crooked Steps; My Wave; The Day I Tried to Live; Been Away Too Long; A Thousand Days Before; Burden in My Hand; Rusty Cage; Drawing Flies; Ugly Truth; Fell on Black Days; Jesus Christ Pose; Slaves & Bulldozers
And that was it. You know, there was a time when I was so crossed up I probably thought Chris Cornell was dead. I suppose he'd already died eight years ago at the Love Garden, when I took him back home. Not too many months ago, I saw a copy of Superunknown going for $80. It was the transparent pressing like the one I'd pawned many moons back. I hope I got a kick out of the generic vodka I likely guzzled.
I've said many times that there aren't too many albums that I sold that are actually missed. This is more than a little disingenuous by this point. For at least some period of time, there was an actual need to get rid of these noises in my head. Turns out, they will always be there, and that there are better ways of dealing with issues than others.
Soundgarden is a permanent part of me. This feels like a hangover, but it isn't. It's a thing. Yordano Ventura's death ripped me up as well. These things suck when liquor and drugs are involved.
I spent a lot of time wondering why the hell I was more torn up by this baseball player's passing. He's a guy I've never met, a guy that would piss me off and thrill me within minutes, days and years. So it is with Chris Cornell.
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| Shelter, someday. |
There was a time around here when I couldn't have the Soundgarden in the house. They weren't alone, of course. Almost anything that I felt gave an unwanted representation of the time spent drinking had to go. A lot went. I spent years without a record player at all, perhaps fearful of some stone that might be turned in time.
Turn over the wrong stone, and a trigger could direct me back to an unwanted place. For eighteen months, Soundgarden had no place in my life, except its housing of eternal dimension. I could stay away from it, but that wasn't quite all. It was always there. Ignored or not, it will always be there, and I came to realize this on Sunday night.
I didn't go to the Soundgarden show to say goodbye. I went to say hello again. RIP CC, simply one of the best lyricists and artists a person could ever find. I'm glad I found him this one last time.
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