Mind Riot

Mind Riot...can't think of two better words to describe where I've been since hearing the shocking news of Chris Cornell's untimely passing. It keeps replaying in my head: "Candle's burning yesterday, somebody's best friend died, and I've been caught in a mind riot." Chris was inspired to write those words for his late friend, Andrew Wood, and they are sadly so relevant 26 years later.

I never knew Chris Cornell personally but it sure as heck felt like I did, considering he wrote the soundtrack to the best years of my life. He expressed what I was feeling in my twenties so eloquently with poetic imagery and edgy dark melodies, the likes of which we will never see or hear again. My Chris Cornell soundtrack to life played for well over a decade, with parties ending in the basement of 92 West Street in Albany, NY to Soundgarden's Spoonman and Rusty Cage and culminating in my wedding day first dance to Sunshower in Montreal, Canada. His loss is tragic and incomprehensible to me on so many levels. As the elder statesman of the Seattle rock scene, he had emerged from his darkest days of depression and substance abuse years ago, to become what we all aspire to achieve in life--a loving husband and father, a philanthropist, and yes, still a true rocker in his prime. His latest release so clearly articulating the hope he felt with the Promise, one "to survive, persevere and thrive." He spoke of an historic nation emerging from genocide just as he emerged from his personal struggles to become the man he is today.

Chris Cornell still is that man. We all share in the responsibility to celebrate that man and his legacy. Forget the medical examiner's report, which reeks of pharmaceutical industry interference and political coercion. This was a substance-induced momentary failure, a horribly clouded decision borne out of frustration and irrationality. Vicky knew him better than anyone in the world and her incredibly poignant open letter to her husband only confirms that this was not intentional nor premeditated. She and his children forgive him. Therefore I owe it to Chris for all he gave me to respect his memory in only the most positive of terms and refuse to call it suicide. I owe it to Chris to promote his prolific contribution to rock music as the greatest songwriter and vocalist of our generation. I owe it to Chris to work to create awareness around the severe side effects of benzos and other "legal" substances. I owe it to Chris to pick up my guitar and Blow Up the Outside World with every E and C chord I can muster. Only then perhaps can I somehow escape this Mind Riot...