Remembering Chris & Chester, Always
Happy Birthday, CC. I can only hope you & CB are still resting peacefully.
Content/Trigger Warning: Suicide.
Chris Cornell would be 61 years old today. Chester Bennington would be 50. Instead, both of them are tragically no longer with us, and yet, they always will be. It has been eight years now without the two of them around, as Chris passed away in May 2017 & Chester took his own life on CC’s birthday that July. A couple of years ago, I wrote a lot of words about Chris — words that I am going to repeat here and now — because, as the days keep passing, I run out of words to say about them. My appreciation, though … that is never-ending. That they are forever linked, the way in which they are linked, is tragic. There is no other word for that.
And yet, there are so many words for that. For them. For all they made. For every single soul they touched. For every heart they moved. For every tear they forced from countless faces day after day after day. I hope, from the very bottom of my heart to the deepest depths of my soul, that every single human being finds an artist that makes them feel the way Chris Cornell made me feel at my worst. And in the brighter moments. And every single passage of time in between. Or, an artist that inspires you the way that Chester Bennington’s seemingly endless reserves of energy inspired me. In their own unique way, they have always been there to help me push through the worst of times. Even as those times linger.
Because my mind is an unkind place. It was unkind to Chris & Chester as well. And yet, so much beauty came out of it. Of them. For all of us. All of the time.
Instead of saying too many more words, though, I am going to share a handful of my favorite videos. And in between, I’ll regurgitate the words I wrote two years ago. But first, let’s start with Death Cab for Cutie doing a lovely little cover of Fell On Black Days in the wake of Cornell’s death. Thank you, Ben Gibbard.
It has always been difficult for me to talk about loss. In whatever form it has taken in the past, in whatever form it chooses to take, loss lingers for me in a very strange & specific way. I did not know Chris Cornell personally. I did shake hands with him once, though, which is something I will cherish forever. What follows is Chester & Chris singing Crawling together. What a lovely moment in time. What an even lovelier memory to have while standing alongside my very best friend at the time — my favorite being Chris, his being Chester. Just … linked. Forever.
There is not a whole lot more I can say about CC’s influence on me & my writing that I haven’t already said in the past. Yet even as I type this, I am thinking of just how much sentimental value I continue to find within his voice. His words. So much so that I recall a show I was fortunate to see in May 2022: Manchester Orchestra’s Andy Hull at Union Transfer in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Man.
Afterwards, I wrote the first thing that jumped into my mind:
1a. Chris Cornell
1b. Andy Hull
anybody who knows me even a little understands the gravity of that for me personally.
Almost fittingly, Andy Hull would play that show at Union Transfer on the night of May 19, 2022. Or, nearly five years to the day of Cornell’s passing. Truth be told, in that moment and on that night, that did not occur to me. There I was, just watching and listening to Hull for more or less two hours while being carried away by everything his catalogue had to offer. By everything I needed to hear.
Next up: Chris & Chester singing Temple of the Dog’s Hunger Strike, in which Chester is given CC’s job of backing harmonies. And, obviously, he crushes it.
After writing that post about Hull; after sitting with it for more than a moment, the sentiment was clear. Of course, the fact that Hull played such a special show so close to that date happened by complete chance. And of course, in the grand scheme of things, this is just another example of me attaching sentiment to something that didn’t need it. Or didn’t need more of it, let’s say. But for those who have read these letters, you’re likely quite aware of just how often I attach sentiment to such things; how often I seek out sentiment when there may be none.
Which, speaking of, here’s a video I’ve shared in the past because it’s one I personally took: Chris performing When I’m Down during his acoustic Songbook tour in 2011. The best show I have ever seen. The best show I will ever attend. A night I never wanted to end and, for a spell, he didn’t either. Apologies in advance for the quality, and for the chatter of drunks around me. But it’s a special one.
The first time I remember hearing Chris Cornell’s voice, I was 15 years old. It was summer, and on my birthday my parents took me to see Collateral in theaters. If I’m not remembering that quite right, I am sure my mom will correct me in the comments below. But it released on August 6, 2004, just three days prior to my birthday, so the timing does line up. And even if we didn’t go to see Collateral in theaters that day, that movie is still the first time I remember hearing his voice. It was in a scene that, if you haven’t seen the movie before, will mean next to nothing to you. If you have seen the movie before, well then, it will mean a great deal more. At a certain point, Audioslave’s Shadow On the Sun kicks in — and in that moment, his voice had a hold on me that would never relent. I’m thankful.
So after that experience, and being only 15 years old, Chris Cornell became my entire personality for a spell. I needed to listen to all of Audioslave. I needed to go back through his solo work. Oh yeah, and Soundgarden existed. And I got to actually see them when they reunited in the 2010s. His voice was unlike any other I had previously heard. It never mattered what he sang, either. So I listened and listened and listened some more. I was the kid in high school who after class had ended for the day, stayed back a while to talk to my English teacher. We bonded over plenty, but Audioslave and Cornell in general were the big ones. I am so, so grateful for that. I always will be. Who knows what happens if I never see that scene, you know? Or if I never have that English teacher. Who really knows?
Four years later would mark the first time I saw Cornell live in concert. One week after my 19th birthday, as it happens. In East Troy, WI, he took the stage ahead of Linkin Park on their Projekt Revolution Tour. I won’t go into detail as it pertains to the show, or the clear love & respect he and Chester had for one another. I will say, though, that I would be fortunate enough to see Chris four more times following that evening — all of which I will remember until my mind renders me unable to do so. I can only hope that day never arrives. Not fully, anyway.
April 17, 2009 at The Pabst Theater in Milwaukee, WI.
*April 23, 2011 at The Pabst Theater in Milwaukee, WI.
**February 1, 2013 at The Rave / Eagles Ballroom in Milwaukee, WI.
*November 2, 2013 at The Orpheum Theatre in Madison, WI.
*Acoustic Set
**Soundgarden Reunion Tour
That brings us to Chester’s tribute to Chris.
Hell, even after his passing, I was also able to be present for the I Am The Highway Chris Cornell Tribute on January 16, 2019 in Los Angeles, CA. For all I am unable to do and for all I will always be unable to do in this life, I will always have that night to myself. For myself. A night featuring a never-ending list of artists, collaborations, covers, and so much more than I could have ever truly imagined.
Adam Levine performing Seasons and crushing it. Miley Cyrus bringing the house down [sorry, haters] with Temple of the Dog’s Say Hello 2 Heaven. Melvins. Rita Wilson & Pete Thorn. Nikki Costa & Alain Johannes. Chris Stapleton. Foo Fighters. Dave Grohl with a solo rendition of Everlong. Josh Homme of Queens of the Stone Age performing Rusty Cage in the style of Johnny Cash [and if not for Miley, possibly my favorite performance of the night]. Audioslave. Tim McIlrath of Rise Against and Sam Harris of X Ambassadors. Ziggy Marley & Toni Cornell. Jack Black. Metallica. Brandi Carlile. Temple of the Dog. Soundgarden.
If the evening ever ended, I do not remember when it did. I was as sober as could be. I was also as tired as could be. And yet, I could have stayed at The Forum for another day if the show had continued. I would have. The tributes did not stop. The collaborations did not stop. The outpouring of love did not stop. Let us hope that no matter what form our love takes in the future, it never does.
I could point to so many moments Chris Cornell has given me. So many snippets of my writing that have included his words. So many times he provided a safe space for my discomfort or my pain. I could list song after song after song. His collaboration with Slash that gave us Promise springs to mind. Or the covers. My goodness, the covers. His rendition of Metallica’s One to the melody of U2’s version which, quite honestly, is absurdly lovely. His stripped down version of Billie Jean is one I never want to shake. Led Zeppelin’s Thank You is an all-timer. My favorite ever. You can enjoy a performance of that one at the video below.
When I think of my favorites, they’ve often shifted over the years. Tastes change, after all. We change. But when it comes to Chris Cornell, nobody will ever take that spot. He was one of a kind, and his voice provided me with a place to go whenever things got a bit too heavy. It still does. And when he doesn’t or cannot, others do, and will. Because if all of this wasn’t enough, artists like Julien Baker come along and cover Fell on Black Days just to make me feel all over again.
I’ll end this with another bit from that Andy Hull post from May 19, 2022:
…see the people you want to see before you cannot. if you're able to escape and find that peace, even if it's for just a couple of hours, do it. you never know when it'll disappear.