The Morphing of Music

After many failed attempts at a recap of the Chris Cornell Tribute concert that took place in LA last month, I decided to dig deeper and switch it up. No one really wants to read a recap of my night when so many others have already covered the show. So, what did that concert inspire in me?

Interestingly, the tribute show affected me more than I imagined. Its impaooct wasn't based on emotion as much as it was on realization. A realization that music is different now. Much different.

Perhaps that’s a blanket statement. However, it’s not the sound or style of music I am referring to here. It’s the content and intent, the soul of music. The soul of music feels different.

“Oh Monica, you’re just stuck on grunge music because that’s what you grew up on…90s rock music.”

Sure. That’s true to an extent. But, I also grew up when bullshit like Brittany Spears, boy bands and video hoes became a thing and I didn't jive with it. There was nothing relatable there to me, nothing real. It didn't spark anything in me other than nausea. But, at least back then there was a variety more readily available and you could pick and choose what fit and claim it.

These days, the majority of the music that soundtracks our lives lacks substance. Whenever I’m out running errands, at a bar with friends or even in an Uber, I am met with sickening similar sounding 3-minute jingles selling caviar dreams on a cup o’ noodles budget, claiming lust as love and selling fantasy as reality.

Budding pop stairs are branded as fresh and unique but in reality, they’re stale .0 versions of the last round of industry puppet pop stars. Let me guess…the girls? Hyper-sexualized and “empowered" by it. The dudes? Boastful, lustful or super whiny about love lost. Oh, and of course the cool new trend of exorcist looking artists with creepy white-out eyes. Thanks, but I’ll pass on the lil demon spitting lyrics at me.

Sure, there are still true artists and rebels out there but they aren't the ones being shoved in our faces 24/7. You have to seek them out, go to local gigs, emerge in community, etc. It’s possible but easy to overlook. The average person just accepts what’s being sold to them on the radio and streaming services.

The reason I cling on to artists like Cornell, Pearl Jam, Foo Fighters, Tupac and The Cranberries to name a few is because their realness resonates with me. These guys weren't trying to be like anyone or anything - they were who they were. Individuals with their own identity and story that was interesting and inspiring.

The night of the Chris tribute was a blatant reminder of the musical genius and trailblazer that we lost. That show was sacred to many of us fans. We came from across the globe to honor and celebrate this phenomenal, authentic, remarkable legend - a transcendental, monumental man whose voice sparked fire in your core.

Overall, the show was an epic collaboration of artists. My eyes swelled watching Chris’ sweet, stunning daughter Toni sing “Redemption Song” with Ziggy Marley. She sang that song at the Beacon Theater with her dad only a few years ago.

The video montages of Chris that were played in between sets were just as achingly beautiful as he was depicting him over the years - smiling, singing, laughing. It was both heavenly and haunting.

The bands I admire and hold dear were there in unison jamming to Chris’ music. I realized I would never witness anything like this ever again. Soundgarden and Audioslave on the same song! Dave Grohl fronting Audioslave! Taylor Hawkins fronting Soundgarden! Mind-blowing.

Then, at a least expected moment, Stone Gossard of Pearl Jam and Temple of the Dog introduced Miley Cyrus to the stage.

What, again? She can’t perform again. Come on.

I thought I dodged a bullet when she came out the first time to cover the grunge legend in her loud purple sequin dress. I even became thankful for the built-in pee break and decided not to hate too much on the fact that she and Adam Levine were a part of the program. Maybe Chris’ daughters were Hannah Montana fans before she became the stage-masturbating media circus she was to the heavily-promoted media darling that she is now. I mean, will the real Miley please stand up?

In all honesty, Adam did a fine job covering "Seasons" and hitting the Cornell high notes. And, while I was in the restroom, Miley was apparently fine at singing “Two Drink Minimum” also known as “When Hope and Promise Fade.” I thought both were one and done and we were moving on.

But, she was back and so it began…the intro to one of the most iconic, meaningful, purest songs of Chris’ career, “Say Hello to Heaven” by Temple of the Dog.

Temple of the Dog was everything real and raw about art and music. It was the record Chris wrote and dedicated to Andy Wood, his dear friend who fronted another Seattle band, Mother Love Bone. Andy died suddenly from a drug overdose and it caused a stir in the Seattle music community. The band members Andy left behind (who moved on to form most of Pearl Jam) also played on the tribute record. It was a huge moment in Seattle’s unique, rich history where these guys, who were like brothers, came together and created this breathtakingly original record.

I had the honor of attending the only Temple of the Dog reunion tour in 2016 and it is legitimately the most meaningful show I have ever attended.

And now, at Chris’ tribute show in LA, Miley effin’ Cyrus is performing the song. It was a lot to handle. I took a seat.

It was my very own war of the worlds. Industry in all its fabricated glory invaded the sincere send off to Chris.

Dramatic much? Maybe. But this is 100% how I felt. At that moment, hope and promise did fade…for me. I know…times are a changing…but it sucks.

Of course, it’s not all one-sided. There were “popular” artists like Brandi Carlile who sang the shit outta Cornell covers. She sings from somewhere deep. I even enjoyed Taylor Momsen, from The Pretty Reckless, once I got over my initial What the fuck is goth Avril Lavigne doing here? moment. She was quite good fronting a few Soundgarden songs.

As mainstream music has morphed into whatever it’s become, Chris’ musical memory, to me remains pure. Maybe I am idolizing the man that is gone, but every time I hear his records, there is a peace, a sadness, a truth to it. And that seems so rare these days. My insides ache for something real - whether it’s rock & roll or not. It’s not about genre, it’s about authenticity.

In all the montages of moments from the 5 plus hour show, there was none I’ll remember more than this.

The venue went completely dark and another video interlude played on the two large screens along the sides of the stage. It was of a recent Soundgarden performance of "Beyond The Wheel."

There stood Chris, front and center - his signature voice shifting the energy in the room and drawing all attention to him. He moved across the stage the way he always did - with an intense yet even temperament that remained, even as his voice soared. He lifted the mic stand up and down like a warrior as his blue eyes iced from the lighting shined through sweat-filled strands of dark curls.

My eyes remained glued to the screen. And, in that moment, I was there. Like a dream so vivid, I was there. A Soundgarden show…the moment I've waited for…I was there. The force of his voice vibrated throughout my body. I closed my eyes. I was there! 

Eyes open, I looked towards the stage. Empty. Black.