666 : Fallen Hero, How Chris Cornell's Death Affected Me

There is a poetic poignancy that the first day of this year’s Mental Health Awareness Week fell on the third anniversary of Chris Cornell’s death. Around 1988 Kerrang started talking about interesting releases coming from an independent label out of Seattle called “Sub Pop”. They reviewed the first singles from Mudhoney, Tad and Nirvana, describing a raw primordial sound that took Metal’s heaviness and combined it with punk’s guttural energy. I was intrigued, but as this was the days before Spotify (and I had limited disposable income) I became a Grunge fan because I liked the way that it was described as opposed to actually having heard any of it.

All that changed in May 1989 when my mate Greg Jackson (hello if you are reading this) and I stole away to the big smoke for Sub Pop’s first venture into Europe. This was a package tour hastily put together to build upon the positive noises that they were hearing from this side of the pond about the bands on their roster. Our main reason for attending was to lay eyes upon scene leaders Mudhoney, by then (based solely on reviews) my favourite band. However their co-headliner on the tour were on first and our collective jaw’s hit the floor. Soundgarden were superb. The bastard child of Black Sabbath and the Sex Pistols. At the heart of them was this shirtless whirling dervish of flailing hair and sprinkling sweat. Chris Cornell burnt off that stage and was the antithesis of the slick choreographed performances we were used to from watching Maiden, Leppard and Whitesnake. He was a ball of pure unpredictable energy, coupled with a voice that channelled pure emotion. By the end of the night my allegiance had shifted and I had a new favourite band.

Chris Cornell of Soundgarden in 1992. Credit : Pictorial Press Ltd / Alamy Stock Photo ©Jeffrey Mayer

“Louder than Love" (which I saved up pennies and bought) was crude, direct and brimful of unrefined genius. I got to see them again in 1990 (this time without schlepping all the way to London) at the late lamented International one. Chris continued to be this hypnotic frontman, a vortex pulling all attention towards him. Each time I saw him over the early nineties (International 2, Maine Road, Academy, Reading Festival, Apollo) the professionalism was notched up and the insane untamed power was (sadly) dialled down. By our final pre-split encounter, at the aforementioned Apollo, they were a slick (and rather dissatisfied) corporate machine with only flickers of the fire in their bellies that I had found so attractive. Fast forward to Download 2012 and you find me camped out at the front like some giddy teen awaiting their return. They did not disappoint, standing in the centre brimming with the same energy that I remembered from our first encounter 25 years before was Chris. 

Soundgarden “Louder Than Love” on the good old cassette tape

I recount all this because whilst every death is tragic, Chris’ passing particularly affected me. Some of that was because I had been so entranced by him in my teens, but mostly it was the fact that he took his own life. Now I am sure we could cover this article with trigger warnings, but the fact of the matter is we don’t talk enough about Suicide. It decimates families, it (as with Chris) robs us of creative talents and it is a matter that touches us all. Yet we shy away from talking about. The truth is the feeling that it is not worth going on is something that a good majority of people will have at some point in their lives. It is not rare and it is not something frightening as the vast majority finds a way out (in most cases with help). Some, like Chris, don’t. What we do know is that people reaching out makes a difference. A simple “are you ok?” can break a cycle of thinking. So my simple message for today is (especially in these times) “Reach Out”. You may not know it at the time but a simple “How are you?” could be a lifeline.   

For some, suicide is a difficult and emotive subject. If after reading this article you feel you want to speak to someone, The Samaritans are available and free, day or night, 365 days a year on 116 123.