Like a Stone- Rest in Peace, Chris Cornell
Anyone that knows me for ohhh...12 seconds knows I am a huge music buff. Freak. Music Freak. Audiophile? I know! Audioslave. My musical selections from day to day vary so diversely. My day could start off with Nirvana, morph into Fats Domino, then wind down with a little Bocelli. I certainly have my favorites though. Temple of the Dog, Soundgarden, Audioslave, all had a huge part of the soundtrack that is my life. The starring voice on this trip- is, was, and will always be Chris Cornell. My youth was anything but typical. I was just a little too smart for some kids, a little too direct for others, and a little too disinterested in typical teenage drama. I had my own major drama going on in the home front and I silently battled the depression that came along with it. I never tried to take my life as a teen- though I thought about it often. Probably more often than I care to admit. I didn't hate life, I just wanted to go live it. I didn't see a point to life in a metaphorical cage. I felt beat down always. My story is the typical "nothing I did was good ever enough for them" story that so many teens talk about after trying to take their own lives. Family pressure, social pressure... it's a lot for an unprepared, young mind. Thankfully, angsty teens like music. It was within the solitary confinement of my own room, locked within my own mind, and enveloped in music, I managed to fight through it all. It was by Chris Cornell's voice that I pulled myself out of my own mental hell again and again. He's the one musician I ALWAYS went to see when he was in town on tour. I always left his shows feeling recharged, reenergized, and humbled in strange ways. The power that man held inside of him, the way words just resonated out of his lungs... if he had a church, I would have become a nun. Because there was no gospel to me that sang truer to my ears than Chris'. His words and voice were laden with pain, subtle metaphor, and power. So much power that made me push through all the strife. I understood what he was saying. I felt what he was feeling, and I wanted to get through it. My teen drama ended when I moved out on my own, and Chris was still there to egg me on. Where he did good by me, I also blame him for my "I only date musicians" phase. Dear God, that was a rollercoaster. (Sorry to that REALLY nice, handsome Architect I turned down to go out with the long haired, leather pants wearing, rock star hopeful. I was really just trying to piss off my mom. Oh, and leather pants. Woof.)
Then I became the girl that got broken up with because my (very talented) boyfriend loved music more than me. And I let him go- because I understood. You'd think I'd have had a clue when I met his parents, and his mother pulled me aside and said- "Honey, you're a really sweet girl but he will leave you. He loves music more than anything else, and he will give you up the very second music picks up his call. And she was right. But I stayed his friend, I got to watch the music industry commit injustice after injustice to him and his band. Fighting for air time, internal band rifts, drugs, and all the other stuff you see in Rockumentaries. It's all true. I saw it first hand. I watched my friend get dumped by music over and over again. So much talent, silenced by the politics of the music industry. And so, my desire to be with an angsty long haired rock musician was cured. I won't say that I don't still turn a sideways glance and bottom lip bite at a long haired rocker type should he pass by- but I think the draw for me was really just the music itself... and the leather pants. I moved cross country in my early/mid 20's- and Chris' I Am the Highway was the theme song. I remember getting into the Uhaul, all alone, scared shitless- and silently bawling my eyes out as I put that sucker into drive, pressed play, and sang- "...cuz I'll get on all by myself. I've put millions of miles under my heels, and still too close to you I feel." Good bye, terrible memories! On to live my life! And so I went. Just me and Chris. And here I was now, in Miami- loving life, just living- just like I always wanted to. The theme was "It Doesn't Remind Me." That's how life was. I did what I wanted to because I wanted to. I did it because it made me happy. It gave my soul peace, finally.
I heard about an Audioslave show at University of Miami that was to happen. I said nothing about how badly I wanted to go because my (now ex) just didn't know. I had tried to get tickets earlier, and it had sold out pretty quickly. I was disappointed, but figured it wasn't meant to be. I hadn't heard him sing I Am the Highway live yet, and that hurt. But I figured there would always be another show. My ex had made reservations for us for a late dinner that day, and I honestly forgot that I was missing the show. He said he wanted to go run errands. Get dressed. So I did. I was busy on my phone, texting my friend about plans we had coming up, and I wasn't paying attention to where he was driving. When we pulled up to the UM Convocation Center, I just looked at him. "You didn't." Through a Cheshire grin, he said- "Didn't what? Let's go." It was such a small venue. I was RIGHT.THERE. Could have touched him. The show went on, and I loved every second of it. But then it was over. No I Am the Highway... My heart dropped. I looked at my ex and shrugged, visibly disappointed. We turned to walk out and the lights shut off. Little bulb lights on the stage lit up- and there was Chris. Right there, right in front of me. I knew what was happening. It was just him and his guitar. I started to shake in anticipation and then, he opened his mouth and sang- "Pearls and swine bereft of me..." I stood there, tears silently rolling down my face. A grin from ear to ear. Thank you for that, Chris. Thank you for hearing me. We left the show and I was silent. Just enjoying that insane tingle I get from live shows, the charge from the adrenaline that the music stirs inside, I was speechless. Reeling. Time passed, another chapter of my life began, and I found myself back home in Chicago again. Chris was now on his Songbook tour. As Hope and Promise Fade... my depression was creeping back up on me again. It was like a devil in my ear whispering about what I was doing in my life and how this wasn't what I had planned! Fix it! Call Me a Dog... another ex. This one a cheater. He sang that album for me. Again. Quit stalking my life, Chris. Ok- keep doing it, but promise you'll keep making the soundtrack. Another show done, emotions, tears, all of it. You can record the show, but you can't record how they made you feel. You take it for granted and say- "I can't wait for his next show." For me and Chris, that was going to be our last. I woke up this morning to news that the Max Steiner or Alan Menken to my life's story had possibly taken his own life. Chris Cornell was found dead at the age of 52. In his true fashion, Chris has left me speechless. There will be no more shows, no more me standing at the foot of the stage and just letting the whiskey soaked velvet of his voice resonate through my body. That will never be, never, ever again. And I thought to myself, "Oh Chris... don't you know? Don't you know how powerful you were? How important?" I wish you knew that you saved my life once. Maybe that would have been enough to give you enough value for your own. I'm not the person that weeps for celebrities. I mean, I have on occasion- Prince and Robin Williams come to mind. But I don't know them personally to mourn them intensely. I find it a horrible shame and a pattern that is unignorable anymore. I mourn the loss of life, the loss of talent, I empathise with those that knew and loved them, but I don't get this strong personal reaction like I did today. This... this is different. This feels like the music of my own life was just turned off without any notice. I can't begin to imagine how those near and dear to him must be feeling if a random stranger behind a keyboard can feel the way I do right now. To Chris' family, my deepest, most heartfelt condolences. Chris has made such an impact on the world with his talent and activism, please know that he will be missed so deeply by so many. I can't imagine how you're feeling right now. In a world with so little real talent for music celebrated, Chris spent his last years just singing. Just opening his mouth and letting the world hear his voice. He had already topped charts. He already was a star in music. He sang through his last years, the way his heart told him to. From star in life- to a star in the sky, the tragedy of his death will sit in the pit of fans' stomachs like a stone, forever. Chris, I know you've been looking for your own peace for a long, long time. Your music told us all and I hope you've finally found it. May you now sing amongst the angels in paradise.
