Chris, the world is a much sadder and darker place without your enormous, generous presence, not to mention your brilliant, heartfelt lyrics and songs. Still can't wrap my arms around this. And something still doesn't sit right. All I can do is share some wonderful memories....

Fast rewind to 1989. Soundgarden had released "Louder Than Love". I was Label Manager for A&M Records in Paris, and the band came to Paris for some promos and a concert. When I first heard the album, I KNEW this was something huge. It was so frikking raw, powerful, & beautiful. Then I met the band and Susan.

I remember when the band was doing CD signings in a small but popular record store. There were maybe 10 people that showed up. Then they did a sold-out concert in a small venue. The show was literally EXPLOSIVE and unreal.Imagine being a part of the initial days of this amazing band. I feel so very lucky and grateful.

While you, Chris, were very reserved and stayed mostly by Susan's side, I felt your kindness shine through your shy demeanor. I had the great pleasure to hang with Matt, Ben, and Kim a few fun evenings, musing about all the travels and promos and concerts the band had to still go through. Matt was a major sweetie, even writing me letters from their overseas tour supporting Guns & Roses.

I left Paris shortly after our meeting, and regretfully, I moved to Miami. I should have moved to Seattle and continue my music career and watch the Seattle scene blossom.

I LOVED every single Seattle band- I am so saddened by the losses. But this music is truly its own and is very important to everyone and it will , as you can tell from all the posts and tributes globally.

Then I was very lucky to see Soundgarden live again, in 2011, in Vancouver BC. Funny, I now live 1.5 hours north of Seattle for the past 9 years. I have not been able to make any contact with the Soundgarden folks, but hopefully that changes soon.

Lastly, when I heard Temple of the Dog was doing 7 shows in 5 locations last year, I jumped on the occasion and bought tickets for the first San Francisco show. I knew about Andy Wood and Chris's close relation, and I was a major fan of Mother Love Bone and TOTD tribute album.I was literally blown away and became very emotional. It was literally the best concert I have ever been to. And I have been to MANY. Chris was amazing, as was Matt and Stone, Mike, and Jeff. 

Never would I have imagined that I would never see or hear you again, Chris. This whole nightmare doesn't remind me of anything. I am hoping for the truth to come out. It would help in healing the raw wounds I (and so many others) have. Even if we did not have a close relationship, you have impacted my life in so many ways. This last chapter is not the last. XOXOXO ~Suzy

“NO ONE SINGS LIKE YOU ANYMORE.”

I’d like to begin my story with a short background. In April of 2013 I hit an all-time low. I tried to commit suicide myself. The doctors say it is a miracle I survived. In my 51/50 hold I wrote the chorus lyrics to Zero Chance on the wall. (chalk board walls for us crazies to write on.) Don’t worry, I cited our beloved Chris.

In August of 2013, I got tickets to Chris’s Song Book tour. My friends were all busy so I got a ticket alone to the show in San Francisco. The evening I got my ticket a “sister wife” had scored 4 3rd row seats in Eugene, OR the following night. I took one of the 4. I was in heaven, in 2 months I would see Chris in concert for the first time. My plan for the trip was to drive off the edge of a cliff on the way home from Eugene.

I had 3 song requests for Chris. The first I made a sign for, ZERO CHANCE, my favorite Soundgarden song. The other 2 requests were for covers, which I had as requests in my head, songs that said everything I was feeling. Looking back now, I should have seen this tragedy of losing our beloved Chris.

On Friday night, I was stuck in the 18th row, but he sang, without me asking, my first cover song request. I felt like he had read my mind and sang the most beautiful rendition of Otis Redding’s “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay”. I was stunned and so blessed.

On Saturday night in Eugene, OR the show was even more amazing. Being in the 3rd row made such a difference. At one point in the show he said he was surprised no one had asked for requests. I grabbed my sign and held it up. He said to me he couldn’t read it. I tried yelling but he couldn’t hear me. He asked everyone to be quiet so he could hear me since I made the sign. My heart stopped!! I screamed out Zero Chance and he played it. It was funny, just before he played it, he said it was a weird song. (he wrote it??) 8 months later he dedicated it to his TOTD friends at the Bridge School Benefit.

Then he read my mind again and played my second request. Cat Stevens “Trouble”. I cried. Bigtime. He said he was going to play a Cat Stevens song and some douche bag kept screaming Cat’s new name. As I was about to stand up and say STFU, Chris said it for me!!! The crowd went crazy, we all wanted the guy to shut up. (no offense to Cat, us old timers know him as Cat.) Anyway, it was like I was in sync with Chris. In my darkest hour, he was there for me. It hurts so much knowing he was alone in his darkest.

Like all of us, his music is healing, comforting, inspiring, and I could go on forever. I never went through my 3rd attempt until 3 years later. I’ve tried 4 times and all the pain free methods just won’t work for me. Losing Chris doesn’t help. Life is full of pain. And no one who knows me knows how badly I just want to die. I will forever be tormented with WTF would cause Chris to want to. He adored his wife and children. He seemed to have it all. I wish I could say there are obvious warning signs, but there aren’t. We suicidal people keep it bottled up.

I will love you until the day I get to die Christopher John Cornell. You were a beautiful soul whose words ring truer than ever.

“NO ONE SINGS LIKE YOU ANYMORE.”

As a footnote, suicide prevention lines are a cruel joke that make you feel worse.

I can pinpoint the exact moment I first heard Chris Cornell's voice come through on the radio. I was 17 years old driving, driving my dad's '97 Dodge Stratus, and taking a left turn onto 356th St. from Enchanted Pkwy in Federal Way, WA. The song I that played that night was "Be Yourself" by Audioslave.

Being born in the late 80's, I had was too young to have appreciated the Grunge movement of the 90's. And although I'm sure I had heard a Soundgarden song here and there (having grown up in the Seattle area and all) I had never really listened to it.

Anyway, back to that first moment: 

The melancholy sound of the guitar caught my attention, but it was the voice and the way the words streamed through the radio that actually held it. The voice was unlike anything I've ever heard before. I could actually feel the emotion from each syllable uttered. And the song itself seemed to encompass every little thing I was feeling at that precise moment in my life. 

I was a depressed teenager with way too many issues to handle. I was ready to give up...but there, on the radio, was this man singing, basically reading my mind and still telling me not to lose any sleep, because everything would be alright.

From that moment on, I've been a die-hard fan. I know that many, many people have had their lives touched by Chris Cornell. And now that he's gone...our souls weep, not only for him, but for his family as well. We only got a small part of all that he was, and we are brokenhearted, I can't even begin to imagine how his loved ones must feel.

Chris Cornell is gone, but he will never be forgotten. In a world where people rarely make ripples, he made everlasting waves.

 The first time I heard Say Hello 2 Heaven it came drifting out of a dead man's phone. My Uncle Paul had recently committed suicide; hung himself in his bar lofted apartment. My large Irish catholic family sorrowfully assembled at a bar on a chilly fall evening in upstate New York. I was outside smoking my "who gives a fuck" cigarette standing next to my distraught cousin Taylor who had just lost his father, the second suicide our family had suffered. He was facing away from me leaning against the stucco brick wall outside the bar. The bottom of his father's phone gently held up to his ear as he softly sang along to a recording of Paul and our Uncle Sean playing Say Hello 2 Heaven around a campfire on the beach of Lake Ontario. With Sean on guitar and vocals and Paul on the harmonica for the solo. Taylor couldn't talk to me about what had happened, any mention of Paul would cause him to swiftly walk away pretending he didn't hear me, but that song kept getting played over and over. I must have heard that song sung and played at least 15 times in the few days I was there. I couldn't talk to him, but that song sure could. It was one of the many relics of joy left behind by his father. It painted such a joyful picture: Two brothers on the beach on a warm summer night surrounded by the people they love jamming out to a song that probably spoke to them in the same way it was speaking to Taylor now. Sean's voice dripping with emotion and influence from Pearl Jam and Soundgarden, soulfully playing the guitar, followed by a killer harmonica solo by Paul. As the guitar dissolves to end the song, you hear the clack of phone being lifted from a log in front of them and just one word is uttered by Paul..."Awesome"

In the nearly three weeks which have gone by since Chris Cornell passed, I have been revisiting vivid memories from my past. I travel back to being in the passenger seat of my Dad’s car in 1994, unsubtlety studying his reactions to the Superunknown cassette tape playing from the speakers. My Dad was my main source of musical reference. He introduced my older brother and me to the likes of The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and The Beach Boys. He had a burning passion for music and sampled his favorite artists’ songs for us in the hopes that we’d validate his taste for great art. As kids often do though, we assumed that if our Dad loved this stuff, there was no way it could be cool. He took it in stride but I could tell it really hurt it him on some level. As we matured and came to our senses, we would eventually appreciate the genius of the music he shared with us.

Now here I was playing Superunknown for him, tense as could be, desperately seeking approval. As expected, the primal heaviness of tracks like “Let Me Drown” and “Mailman” as well as the psychedelic sounds of “My Wave” and “Head Down” were met with the ultimate indignity, him turning down the volume and using the lame dad line of the music being “too loud”. He didn’t take the tape out outright, so I knew there was still a chance he would acknowledge what I knew in my heart to be a special album. And then it happened. “Black Hole Sun” got him. “Finally, a song with some melody. This sounds like The Beatles.” he said. I smiled and relaxed, feeling vindicated and victorious.

I was 14 when I began to dabble in hard rock thanks to an old Fox network show called Sound FX and endless MTV consumption (back when they played videos!). One day, I caught the video for “Spoonman” and heard Soundgarden for the first time. I instantly loved the name and their music but most of all, Chris’s voice. I had never heard such a beautiful howl before. There was raw emotion, undeniable power and an unabashed vulnerability to be heard in his vocals.

Soundgarden entered my life during a very tumultuous time. My parents had recently divorced, my Dad moved out and I had to assume responsibility as default head of the household at a way too young age since my mother suffered from mental illness and my brother was too busy escaping reality in various ways. In the midst of all this, I began to experience paralyzing panic attacks and major depression. With Badmotorfinger, Superunknown and Down on the Upside as the soundtrack of this time, I connected deeply with Chris’s lyrics. Instead of sinking deeper into despair because of Chris’s brooding lyrics, I felt comforted and uplifted by them, gaining strength from the knowledge that there was someone else who was expressing how I was feeling and on a larger scale, the pain and doubt inherit of the human condition.

During a particularly dark period, I had a seemingly innocuous thought inspired by Soundgarden that would become a mantra of sorts which helped me push through my despair and hopelessness. I thought about the “Spoonman” video and my mind’s eye focused in on the T-shift worn by Artis the Spoonman, which read Save Yourself. As someone who was being dragged down by the tremendous pressure heaped upon me by circumstance and my own dysfunction, this simple message resonated with me in an incredibly profound way. Suddenly, I had a glimmer of hope and motivation to get beyond my fear and live a meaningful life.

By all accounts, Chris lived an incredibly meaningful life. Not only did he help pioneer the Seattle sound which has enriched my life with timeless music but in his later years he seemed to make peace with his demons and enjoy the unconditional love of family. As I scratched and clawed my way through adolescence and gradually thrived in adulthood, I remained a Chris Cornell fan. His Audioslave period was one I followed from a distance, having enjoyed the first album but not enough to stick with the band through the rest of their catalog. As a major admirer of Rage Against the Machine and their talented, charismatic frontman Zach de la Rocha, it was difficult at first not to view the Audioslave pairing as more than a music industry cash grab. As I fell in love with songs like “Show Me How to Live”, “Like a Stone” and “Doesn’t Remind Me”, I accepted the union of two of my favorite artists and embraced it.

As you get older and become mired in the bombardment of domestic life, you tend to loosen your grip on the music of your youth. I continued to keep my antenna up for new developments involving my favorite bands and became very excited by the announcement of a Soundgarden reunion and their new King Animal album. I bought the album the day it was released and consumed it for a month straight. The old feeling was back and it was exhilarating. Soundgarden’s indelible sound was intact and Chris’s voice and lyrics were as strong and soothing as ever.

Years went by and I would keep tabs on Chris and Soundgarden through Google alerts. When a tour was announced earlier this year, I felt an obligation to see them as they were on a short list of my all-time favorite bands who I had not seen play live. When they passed through town in late April, life got in the way and I felt a strange, foreboding sense that I had missed my last opportunity to see them somehow. During my getting-ready-for-work early morning routine on May 18, my wife screamed the news from another room (“eyes were waking up, just to fall asleep”). I stood stunned, not fully processing the gravity of her words. How could this have happened? They were touring and halfway through another album, he has a great family, he seemed happy…

As details trickled in, my shock turned into creeping sadness. I don’t think we’ll ever truly know what happened in that Detroit hotel bathroom. Even more disturbing is that we’ll never know why it happened. While Chris’s lyrics often plunged into the darkness, there were overriding themes of individual freedom, tolerance and love. The ultimate result of that night is the loss of a musical icon and once-in-a-lifetime talent. Conspiracy theories and the search for rationale and motive will not bring him back. My heart aches and breaks for his family. I won’t even insult them by pretending to understand what they’re going through. The world is an emptier place for Chris not being in it anymore. His legacy will remain but can never fill the void left behind in his absence.

Two more memories circle around in my mind. One of the obvious signs that my wife was the woman for me was early on in our dating when she did not hesitate to join me in a duet sing-a-long for Temple of the Dog’s “Hunger Strike.” We took turns singing like Chris and Eddie Vedder and it became a tradition any time we were fortunate enough for it to come on the radio. It always made us giggle to switch from Eddie’s signature growl to Chris’s earth-shattering shriek.

Flashback to 1995. I was in the 8th grade and our class was in the computer lab again, presumably to work on our typing skills or something like that. I took an opportunity to type out a fan letter to Chris Cornell, to let him know how much he meant to me and how his music had impacted my life and possibly saved it. I told the guy sitting next to me what I was doing and who I was writing to. He had no idea who Chris or Soundgarden were but respected the fact that they meant enough for me to spend my lab time this way. I spent the next hour writing a long, impassioned letter that I saved but never sent. To this day, I regret not sending the note. I have no idea if it would have reached him or whether or not I would have gotten any kind of response. To have lost out on that possibility is a shame and something I will always kick myself over. Hopefully, in some small way, this essay will reach him through the ether and he can find comfort in knowing how much he was loved and how much he’ll be missed by his fans the world over.

This is what I'll always remember you by.I just wanted to say thank you.

Thank you for bringing my family closer together. When we would play some of your songs on rockband 2 and guitar hero for hours trying to beat your songs on easy and expert level.Thank you for coming into my home on mtv early in the mornings on my tv when I would get ready for school knowing that "Like A Stone", "Be Yourself" or "Cochise" music video was going to be stuck in my head for the rest of the day.

Thank you for bringing inspiration into my home when I would be in my room for hours and forcing my self to learn and by listening to the way you sang, trying to learn the rest of Tom Morello's solo on my electric Epiphone Guitar that I had at the time of "Be Yourself" while I had it playing on repeat on my stereo.Thank you for being the music my family used to clean my house to every so often before I went out for the weekend with my friends. Even if it was my step-dad blasting your songs "Out Of Exile" or" SpoonMan " at 10am in the mornings with homemade breakfast burritos on the table.Thank you for the guilt I carried with me in the mornings knowning that I'd eventually end up getting grounded before school started while I took the risk of waking up early to get ready while sneaking into my little brother's room while he was asleep and"borrowing" my brother's Audioslave shirt when I would get ready for school.Then later on I'd eventually would end up getting grounded from my stereo for borrowing my little brother's Audioslave shirt , after giving my mom and step dad all your albums That I had in my cd case from my bedroom closet because i couldn't listen to any music during the time I was grounded.Thank you for being the fill in noise when me and my family would blast your music in the car when we were taking the most hottest ride out to woodrow resivor ,CA in the summer and When my step-dad would take me and my mom to Black Oak Casino in Sonora,CA and blast your music in the car on the way there,Or when my step-dad drove me and my little brother home from school and he would have "Show Me How To Live " blasting super loudly.Thank you for being such a inspiration to me and bringing my family comfort and joy with your amazing talent of voice and music. Even though I would most of the time being locked up in my bedroom all the time listening to your albums and watching your music videos on youtube over and over again for hours.Your lyrics spoke something to me and gave me comfort and closure even when I was going through something good or bad or dealing with something difficult in my life. Thank you Chris Cornell for the music and the good memories that I made with it.

Your fan,

Anjanette

Once upon a time in 1989, a girl (me)... heard an intoxicating voice (you) and so it began...

This is the first line of a handwritten letter I had the most fortunate pleasure of giving Chris Cornell.  It happened in Regina (rhymes with the body part), Canada, 1700 miles from my home. For more than 25 years, Chris's voice and lyrics have flowed through my veins, filled my ears via portable cassette/CD players, iPODS, computer speakers, car speakers, smoky, loud concert venues, or even just in the voice inside my head. I had dreamed off and on of meeting him, but mostly my contentment lied in far off admiration... a fan girl fluttering around, wandering wherever his brilliance shined. 

It wasn't until recent years, perhaps driven by my own maturing mind nearing my 40th birthday, that the idea crept in. I need to meet Chris. This idea exploded once I heard Higher Truth, what I deem as Chris's masterpiece to the world. Sure, he'd given us masterpiece after masterpiece before; but this was the penultimate. It touched me in ways no other Chris had done before! I listened for more than a year, every day. Saw him five times that tour. Meanwhile, I'm always monitoring the meet and greet site. "Sold out" it would always read. I'd always think, "lucky...." Then one day, scrolling as usual past all the "sold outs," I noticed one distinctly different. "Available." I blink to adjust my vision. My heart beats faster. 

What if?

I knew this was the only way. I'd always heard the great stories of fans running into him after shows, or getting close enough to hand him a note. I even thought of making a paper airplane.  Yeah, I'd tried all that! Never worked. 

So I knew what I had to do and so began a really long, drawn out logistics experience that I won't get into here. 

(What follows is an excerpt of what I wrote the day after my experience, edited just a tad)

Fast forward to the evening in Regina. In my hotel (might I mention I flew to Canada alone) I receive a text: “Hi Emily, Martin here. Chris C’s security. Please meet me at the merchandise table at 7:30 pm with your guest. Thanks.”

Shit just got real.

And, uh… I don’t have a guest.

I shower and get ready, putting on my best attire. The tights I brought were NOT the ones I expected, but oh well. I think I looked the best I could in that moment.

Then I get another text: “Our flight is delayed. Let’s meet at 7:45 instead. Don’t worry you will definitely meet him before he goes on.”

Breathe. It’s ok….

I gathered my items to bring and walked to the bus stop. I get there no problem… it was a short walk to the Conexus Art Center… however there was NO sidewalk leading directly to it, so I had to poke holes in the grass to get there with my heels! Oh well! I got there just after 6:30 when doors opened. People are starting to trickle in. The front doors are VERY close to the admission area and very small merchandise booth. I give the nice older lady at will-call my last name and she can’t find it. I tell her I’m on the band’s guest list. God, I felt SO special. This was it! Finally, I get the real fan treatment!!!! I wait for a while and another lady comes out and says they’re retrieving my ticket. A short while later she brings it back… It is orchestra row G (13th row) – well I had 4th for Charlotte, so I was a little disappointed, but immensely grateful I wasn’t BALCONY! I check out the merchandise and don’t buy anything. I go to the bathroom to adjust my annoying tights and check makeup. I get a drink of water from the fountain. I check FB. I stalk my text message box.

Then at 7:45: “Just left the airport. Be there soon.”

Holy shit again. Soon. He’ll be here soon. I’d been waiting for over an hour, so soon felt so - soon.

Back to the bathroom to adjust. More water…. Back to the merch booth. And there was Martin, who said “There you are. Let’s go…. follow me” … and so it began. I looked at Martin, grasped the items I brought for Chris and walked, one foot in front of the other, up some stairs, weaving through the crowds, dodging dudes juggling beers. Taking deep breaths. Heading to and through the black doors that lead to the other side where Chris is. Inside it’s pitch black and Martin has to shine a light and say watch your step. I mention how nervous I am, and Martin tells me something like – “Don’t worry, Chris is really cool.” He says we’ll find a dressing room and set up. We go to the first one on the left through a narrow hallway. It’s small, carpeted and lit with dim florescent. There is a mirrored wall to the left with a long, brown table beside… a small, dingy white-tiled shower with a curtain (which I peer into and briefly wonder if I’ll have to shower after this whole experience). There’s also a toilet straight ahead, with an old-timey white sink in the middle. There are angled mirrors to the right, fashioned in dressing room “style”, and a small black, mini fridge alongside. Martin grabs two plain, brown cushioned chairs and puts them right in front of each other. The room and space are so small, the chairs so close together.

Then he says he’s gonna get Chris. Then I almost fail to breathe. I have to actually remember to breathe.  While Martin’s away I realize my mouth is so parched. I spy a nearly-empty abandoned water bottle on top of the mini-fridge and desperately debate swigging it, but instead take a quick a drink from the faucet. It’s so nasty, but I don’t care. I wipe my mouth and look in the mirror. This is it. No time for primping. No time for remembering. I turn and moments later, Chris rounds the corner and almost glides into the room, like a Rock God apparition. There he is, standing RIGHT in front of me, hand outstretched. We shake hands and I place my other hand on his and smile. He hugs me. Wow. We sit. The items I brought for autographs are next to us on the table. And before I know it, I look over the door is mostly CLOSED and we’re sitting, directly in front of each other in this tiny space, just the TWO of us!!!!!!!!!! Chris Cornell and I are alone, although very briefly. I had him ALL to myself, contained, no one else around!! How cool is that! What did we talk about? It’s kind of a blur, but here’s the gist.

I told him I’m from Texas, and explained that this is my 5th concert this tour and that I came to Regina because it was the only meet and greet left. We talked about Canada and he told me that growing up in Seattle, he came to go fishing a lot when he was younger with his dad. I (think) I told him I went to Banff for my honeymoon and mentioned seeing the Canadian Rockies from the plane this trip. During what seemed like a lull in conversation, I told him Higher Truth truly touched my soul and I just had to meet him to tell him that IN PERSON. It was the real reason I was there. I wished him a happy, belated birthday and congratulations on the wonderful tour. He smiled and said thanks, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. I told him my son loves to sing his stuff and showed him a video of him singing Nearly Forgot My Broke Heart. I know my three year old son sings at least 3 songs – NFMBH, Josephine and Higher Truth, but I could not for the life of me at that moment think of all three! I stumbled and jumbled telling Chris the track names, while trying to find the video. He held my phone and smiled and chuckled softly.

As we’re sitting I am just trying to take it ALL in, looking at him without trying to stare, but trying to remember EVERY detail. He had a reddish shirt with little holes scattered all over it, with a shirt underneath. His glasses were dark, with a beautiful greenish tint around the edges. At one point I wanted to compliment him on them, but the moment passed, like several others before and after that. I noticed lots of gray hair in his roots. I noticed a pronounced muscle on his playing arm. His skin was glowing, so smooth. I thought he seemed small, not short (obviously) but small framed, barely any width to him, like I could wrap both arms around him twice! He had greenish pants and big boots on. I noticed him long fingernails (for guitar plucking). He has aged well. Very well. He is truly beautiful. There is just no other way to put it. So the conversation went on. I asked if he missed his really long hair, and flipping it around. He smiled and said something I can’t even remember. I mentioned the Temple of the Dog reunion and that I missed the presale and he said tickets go on sale soon. I gave him his gift, explaining the quote inside the frame. I said I read somewhere that he loves to read and that I picked the quote by Sylvia Plath (his favorite author) because it reminds me to stay in the moment, which I was trying to do JUST then.

“Remember, remember, this is now, and now and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all that I’ve taken for granted,” it read.

I told him about the letter I wrote to him that’s inside the frame, and he turned it over and looked for it. I laughed and said it’s inside the frame and he can open it later. Now I wish I would have taken it out. I think he thought it was taped to the back…. He seemed like he wanted to read it right then. At some point Martin came back in with a gold Sharpie and disappeared…. I can’t remember when that was, but shortly after Chris picked up my ragged Higher Truth CD cover. I remember watching him turning it over in his hands and thinking WOW, he’s holding the masterpiece HE created… I think I mentioned to him that I missed the Songbook tour, but so glad I’ve been able to see Higher Truth. He then said something like he was glad he was able to put out a CD with new songs, because SB was mostly previously released material. He muttered something about Soundgarden re-uniting. I remember him saying that it’s impossible to play under 2 hours because he just has so many songs. All the while, he’s talking AND signing his trademark signature, carefully placing the words on the front cover. I can’t even remember if I told him my name, and here is signing it, correct spelling and everything! He put the cover down and Martin came back in, then as we’re standing up Chris offered to sign my Singles DVD cover. I told him it’s my favorite movie and he should have won an Oscar for his “brief” role. Both he and Martin grinned. Hee hee.

Martin suggested where to stand for the picture – by the door. We stood so close, he put his arm around my right shoulder and I put mine on his left hip. It all seemed so natural, like we’d met before. I wasn’t nervous touching him, but I definitely noticed the feel of him!!! As I turned to gather my stuff, he bent to hug me very close. His hair was right next to my face and I clung to him gently and breathed his sweet smell in DEEPLY. I told him “thank you. From the bottom of my heart, your music means the world to me. I am a loyal fan forever, thank you so much.” He looked at me after that and said “thank you” with such simple sincerity and grace. And then it was over. As I’m being whisked away back to reality, through the darkness and into the light of the theater, I hear Martin call to me, WAIT – here’s a guitar pick and he gives it to me. As I exit I see the stage to the left through some curtains and realize I’m “BACKSTAGE”… and I want to stay there. Exiting, I passed by opening act Fantastic Negrito, who I had also just met (along with several other fans) at the merchandise booth. He said “Hey, I know you!” And I giggled like a softly like a schoolgirl “I just met Chris!!!!”

(end excerpt) *note, I am 4'11 and Chris is 6'2 therefore you only see my eyes in the photo.

And with that....

May 18th will always be a day of sorrow for me. The day the world lost Chris. His brighter than bright light extinguished, but the flame carries on his musical legacy and his children. I will miss you always, Chris, and will hold tight to your voice forever. 

Rest easy in the Superunknown, Chris. Sleep tight. 

I actually didn't start listening to Soundgarden until 1994, around the time where I assume a majority of their fan base did.  I assume this, of course, because this was the year of their huge commercial sales peak, and the summer of the Black Hole Sun music video on MTV. 

In my case, while it had a lot to do with the accessibility to Soundgarden's music, it also had a lot to do with the simple fact that I was 14 in 1994, and that's about the age where you start listening to your own music and not just what's being played. 

When Soundgarden formed, I was only 2.  When Soundgarden had major labels chasing them but decided to go with SST records because of what it meant to them, I was 6.  When they did finally sign a major label record deal, I was 7.  When they first went platinum, I was 9. 

So while I can't say I was there from the start, I feel that way in retrospect because I did go backwards from 1994.  I listened to Superunknown constantly.  I played Badmotorfinger while I slept (and on more than one occasion, the fade out of Searching, leading into the thunderous start of Room A Thousand Years Wide woke me up in a welcome terror), and I read and listened to the Soundgarden history all before Down on the Upside came out. 

I had every Soundgarden shirt that existed. I wore a different one to school every day, never repeating one in a 2 week span.  It became my identity and my life.  

As I grew older, I appreciated the lyrics more and more. As I learned guitar, I appreciated the music more and more.  And I remember the devastation in 1997 when they disbanded. 

For some reason, it never occurred to me that they would do any other projects. It felt like it was all over. I felt like, if they wanted to make music, they would have just kept Soundgarden going, right ? I'm still not sure if that was naivety or stupidity, or a combination of both, but of course I was wrong and the music didn't stop there. 

I remember Bleed Together playing on the radio at 2am while I was driving. I could tell in a second that it was Soundgarden, and I knew I had never heard this song before.  It was somehow a surprise to me, despite being so up on Soundgarden news, and it is still one of my top Soundgarden songs.  Only this band would record a song like Bleed Together and leave it off of a record.  If nothing else, that alone shows how amazing they were. 

I remember exactly, listening to Euphoria Morning for the first time.  It's hard to find the right word for how I felt on that initial listen.  It was certainly not what I was expecting.  I don't know if confusion does it justice, but it was definitely surprising.  I listened to the album just as much as I did the Soundgarden albums, but I didn't fully appreciate it till a few years later, and now, it is one of the hardest albums to listen to because it is just so perfect and under appreciated, like Chris himself. 

Audioslave was a fun time, and the start of seeing Chris perform live - again, because of the age issue and when Soundgarden broke up.  Now I was free to go to shows, wherever they were. Each show was special. Audioslave shows. Then Chris Cornell shows. And, amazingly, reunited Soundgarden and Temple of the Dog shows too.  39 shows in total.  Right around 100 hours of hearing Chris Cornell live, across really 4 bands if you consider the Chris Cornell band tours vs. the Songbook tours.  

Just, amazing how each band felt different. A songbook show and a Soundgarden show are just nowhere near the same experience. 

I was lucky enough to talk to Chris a few times as well, about his music, about the current tour, and about just some random thing that was going on at the time.  It never felt like a question/answer session, just 2 friends hanging out.  

I still haven't quite grasped what has happened.  I see a tribute and I wonder what Chris will say about it and then it hits me.  I'm fully aware of what happened but it feels like I hear it for the first time every few hours.  I relive the initial moment I found out over and over again.  I can't stop listening to all of the music.  It makes me so appreciative, and so happy, and so sad, and so destroyed, and I welcome all the feelings. 

I feel for the family and friends.  And I don't know if I should consider myself among them, but I do consider Chris to be among mine.  I will forever be a fan. I will forever be a friend. I will never stop listening. I will never stop sharing. I'm so sorry. I'm so thankful. 

Thank you Chris Cornell.