October 23, 2017
Stu Edgcombe
Hi Cornell Family
I am so truly sorry for your loss. Chris was and still is an incredible man! The way he touched so many lives throughout the world his memory and music will be with us forever. That can never be taken away. My wife and I were so fortunate to see Chris at the Palace of Fine Arts theatre in San Francisco a few years back. I loved him with Soundgarden, but I treasured seeing him solo. What a memorable evening it was! He was so happy that night and told great stories. I will never forget this, one of his friend’s kids was in the audience that night, he was a little boy, maybe seven or so. He had lost a tooth like kids do. Well Chris brought him up on stage to take a look! It was so cool and so real. Chris passed away on my wife and I’s 20th wedding anniversary. It was such a hard day for us. We had a hard time celebrating our day as we had lost someone who was very dear to us and our lives. I think about Chris often. My heart will always miss him. I can only imagine what all of you are going through. Remember all the happy times and memories and know that he is never far from your side.
Much love. I hope peace finds you soon
Stu
JS
When I built the Soundgarden timeline for the band’s website in 2012. It was never intended to be part of the website. I had set out to build it for myself as a hobby. I had simply reached out to management to get their blessing and avoid lawsuits. I cannot put into words the emotions I felt when they replied, “we would like to call you next week” and during that call said they would like the timeline to be part of the Official site.
My “Beatles” were back together, new record about to come out after all these years, and I have been put in charge of preserving their history. I was 38. The only way I can explain what I felt at the moment…a guy who had given up on his career in baseball and got a call to pitch game 7 of the World Series.
Why it meant so much…
I have been a fan since 89/90. I was a fan long enough to never see the band as “rockstars”…I always saw them as those guys that graduated from your high school years before you…. You heard about them, heard they had a band, heard they made it big, heard the music, but never met them. You could easily have a beer with them. Maybe it was Kim and Hiro’s connection to here in Illinois. Maybe it was because I watched the band evolve from the early years.
I would eventually meet Kim and Matt outside The Riv on the Danzig co-headlining tour in 1990. Chris and Jason were nowhere to be found. I was all of 16. They were not huge at that time. Approachable. Some fan was handing Kim record after record to sign. It was kind of awkward. I reach out my trembling hand to have Matt sign my Ticketmaster ticket envelope and some guy accidentally burns me with his cigarette. Matt blurts out…”oh meet Ben our new bass player!”. Ben apologizes for burning me. Me…still shaking say…”its ok, its ok” and handed him my envelope to sign. And yes… I still have it.
I always figured someday I would get to meet the band again and Chris could complete the signatures. I saw it clear as day. I mean I built part of their website, I was on the guest list. This would happen eventually. It was inevitable.
In May this year that all changed…forever.
I had jumped up from a deep sleep in the middle of the night in a panic. I got up, flipped channels for a few hours, watched some terrible sitcoms, and then the news came across my feed. No! I literally looked at the date of my phone thinking it was a terrible April Fools joke. A hoax. It wasn’t until days later I released when I woke up in a panic it was actually 1:30 in the morning in Detriot. We are all connected. I believe that more than ever now. The universe was jarred that night.
And here we are trying to process it still months later.
I pride myself in making sense of the most off the wall things. After months this still makes no sense. I travel from Chicago to Detriot 5 nights a week. I have to see those “xx miles to Detriot” signs all night long. It’s a constant reminder. The music I have used for comfort, to escape, etc…for 28 years. It’s hard to hear now. Photos hard to stomach.
A friend said it best…”musically… There’s nothing to look forward to now” followed by “Our generation’s John Lennon is gone”. Yes, he left a huge catalog. An amazing catalog! But it was always fascinating to see what he was going to do next…solo or with the band. That voice…that god damn voice!
TOTAL FUCKING GODHEAD
-JS
John D
The second concert I ever attended was Soundgarden at the Palace of Auburn Hills, just north of Detroit. It was ’96, and they were out in support of Down on the Upside. My parents had split up about a year earlier, and I was living with my dad in a run down house. Much of my time outside of school was spent helping him fix it up. I don’t even know how many days I spent painting the old chipped siding and the garage, but I’d always have the radio on, just waiting for “Pretty Noose” to play. The music was a much needed respite during an otherwise hopeless time.
One afternoon, the DJ said that Soundgarden was coming to town, and I finally got the nerve to ask my dad to buy us tickets. We had a very distant relationship, but I figured it was worth a shot. In an effort to bring us closer, he picked up the tickets from a local record store and two weeks later we were there. Rocket from Crypt opened, and then Soundgarden came out. There was an enormous mosh pit, but you could only see the commotion when the bright red lights would flash during songs like “Ty Cobb” and “Blow Up the Outside World.” I left the concert changed, and decided that I wanted to play guitar in a rock band like Kim Thayil.
I’m 34 now, about to be a dad, too, and I still play guitar in a band. I still have the ticket stub from when I saw my heroes when I was 12, and I still think about waiting to hear their songs on the radio when I was outside painting. After that show, those songs became a kind of shorthand, a language I could use to describe all the mixed emotions of my adolescence. There was great pain interspersed with great beauty. And through it all, there was inevitable growth.
Like most of the millions of fans who had a chance to enjoy Chris’ music, I never had the chance to thank him for his work, for articulating what so many people feel yet cannot name. There is a noble beauty in that gift even if it comes at such a great cost. I wish him the greatest peace, and I hope for peace and healing for his family and loved ones. He helped me to better understand myself and my relation to the world around me. I don’t know of a greater gift anyone could give. Much love from Michigan.
John
Brooklyn Chiton
Most people who know me or know me well anyway know one thing true about me – music is my life. Music is who I am. If I ever accomplish anything in this world as far as an impression, I hope anyone walks away from me knowing how passionate I am about my music. Aside from being born into a family of talented singers and musicians, I developed my own love and likenesses. I remember the first time I ever fell truly in love with music and found myself in an artist, Chris Cornell.
I remember being around 6, maybe 7 years old at my grandparents house. I always loved watching MTV in the guest room on the tiniest little television known to man. Back when all they ever showed were music videos, I found that to be my comfort. I was watching Headbangers Ball, and a certain video caught my eye of a band standing on a hill top, crazy images of elders, teens and kids doing everyday things but in distortion. That video was Black Hole Sun. The guitar, the melody, the voice. I was one captivated kid and from then on forever changed.
Throughout my life, I leaned on rock music like a best friend. I was an only child, very lonely. I had one friend from school and our bond alone was born out of our love of music. A seemingly happy home – not many people knew that my mother and I were deep into the abyss of alcoholism and domestic violence. This on top of loneliness in general left me to cope with only one thing, music. I would get lost in the bliss of the radio on a nightly basis. My biggest thing was recording songs from the radio onto my cassettes. I remember hearing Black Hole Sun on the (new at the time) alternative radio station. I never hit record so fast in my life. From then on, I would wear out that radio recorded copy of Black Hole Sun everyday after school, while I played dolls, sang karaoke to it. Of course, I loved my Backstreet Boys and Spice Girls… but my heart lived for the dark sounds of rock. I feel like this sometimes separated me from my peers, I didn’t fit in. I never felt more accepted though when I put my Black Hole Sun tape on.
From then on, I became an avid Soundgarden fan and had obtained two cassettes of theirs. Lots of “Fell On Black Days” and “The Day I Tried to Live” was played during this time. An elementary school kid with a jaded perception and beloved tapes to fuel the person hiding out deep in my bones.
Upon approaching middle school, I still carried Soundgarden with me like my favorite blanket. I started attending a private boarding school with no rock music allowed. Compact discs had replaced cassettes and I had just learned to burn. Being away from my family, hours from my home, that dark part of myself needed a good comfort. I burned myself 3 Soundgarden CD’s to take with me. I sadly kept them at low volume in my dorm room and kept them hidden under my bunk, bound with duct tape. I also wore out my portable CD player with them at night when the floor was asleep, I would cry for home and get lost in the perfect words and voice of Chris Cornell.
In high school, I discovered Temple of the Dog. That opened up a Pandora’s box of excitement and wonder for the early stuff. I found myself identifying with Chris Cornell even more. That is when I found “Say Hello 2 Heaven” and sealed the spot for my all time favorite song. I continued enjoying his music as he kept going – Euphoria Mourning was so beautiful. I even loved the Scream album – and I told myself that he could never create a song that I’d hate.
Chris Cornell accompanied me through my first heartbreak, my first year at college and many commutes in between. He came with me on many friend excursions in that “weird time” of my early adulthood. As he created music, formed Audioslave, he still sang to my soul. He was still consistent. His music grew and evolved, just as I did. That’s what was so amazing about it. That IS what is so amazing about music and connecting with an artist, they can grow with you.
When I met my husband, I was in a dark and lonely place, yet again. I had given up on relationships, people. I was tired. I was plagued with depression. My husband saved me from that. He also shared his biggest passion with me, music. Finding someone that you can connect with on that level is something so rare and unique. The ability to sit and break down songs by lyric, vocal, instrument, melody is the coolest experience to share with the person you love. I shared Cornell with him, so then the music accompanied me through my new and happy life. Riding in the car, we jammed Soundgarden. We would sit and talk about grunge music and watch music videos on YouTube for hours, just getting lost in the music created for people like us. Dark music rooted from nasty depression and anxiety, but also hopeful.
I remember a night after becoming parents, we went downtown to an Irish pub packed with college kids. My husband pushed through all of them to make his way to the digital jukebox. He spent almost $10 making sure “Say Hello 2 Heaven” was at the top of the playlist for me. I had no idea, I just thought he was changing up the vibe. Many times I wanted to go ahead and leave, he begged me to stay, just so I could hear that song that night. It made me feel so grateful to have someone who understood me in that sense.
After battling a gruesome bout of PPD, I had really come into my own as a positive, functioning adult. I found running to be a safe haven, paired with music? Even better. Paired with Soundgarden? Masterful. I remember spending hours looping my backyard while my daughter played just listening to “Head Down” and “4th of July” on repeat. I allowed these songs to embed themselves into who I was, more so than before. They pushed me out of bed each day, they accompanied me on the way to doing better as a person.
The year I turned 26, my parents surprised me with tickets to Chris Cornell at the Ryman in Nashville. I think I cried for a good hour and just fawned over those paper tickets. My husband and I had made the decision to try for a second child, so my emotions were really off the charts at the time. We were holding onto hope that if we did get pregnant, we would have a son. A son I could share music with, who my husband could teach guitar, who I could buy band tees for and host band practices for him and his friends. I knew if I had a son, he would be musical and talented and I felt my purpose was to nurture it. Two days before going to the Cornell show, I got a positive pregnancy test.
I had never felt SO in my element than I did at this concert. To know I was drowning in a sea of people who shared the same love. The fact that I could walk into the crowded bathroom and hear women chattering and saying “I hope he plays All Night Thing!” I thought “Hey! That’s my kind of talk!” I couldn’t even believe that I got to be around that. Kindred spirits and like minds. He played the classics and I sang loudly, every word. My spirit flew up into the rafters of the Ryman and soared. Then came the chills – A Day in the Life. No song will ever hit me harder than that one. As he played and came to the ethereal vocal bridge, I felt myself bottom out and tears overwhelmed me. I saw in my head – my son, the future I was hoping for. A smiling baby, a wild child, a deep poetic soul that would be more like me than I imagined. I placed my hand on my stomach and something about that moment, I just felt complete. More complete than I ever have. I felt like in that moment I had arrived in life, the bad memories I carried with me…irrelevant. It made me thankful, joyful, safe. Songbook and Higher Truth carried me into this great place that I had always hoped for but never thought was possible. A place for hope and a concept that I was not my past. And this big moment in my heart, background music by Chris Cornell. Who knew? The next June, I gave birth to our son, Everett Christopher.
Screaming vocals of Slaves and Bulldozers to the kids in the kitchen or torturing them with frequent playing of Black Hole Sun, that music was just my everyday life. Always a constant. It’s who I am.
Then I woke up at 5 am on a May morning and found out that Chris was gone. Words cannot truly explain the amount of heartbreak and loss this brought to my life. The only thing that could encompass that for me would be to say that I felt like a huge part of my life and who I am was gone. I mean – I lost Cornell. A man whose words got me through every stage in my life so far. Someone who grew and evolved with me and had no idea. I watched as some of my Facebook acquaintances carelessly shared the article, diminishing it down to nothing but a news story that day. Endless amounts of hyperbolic click bait, it was a stinging pain each time I scrolled. So many speculating his death. It hurts more than anything that it was ruled suicide, truly. We were all fighting this battle together and our leader unfortunately gave up his fight. Someone who so impacted ME as a person and gave ME the courage to keep going everyday with my head high, I cannot wrap my head around it. But I’ve been there and you just never know how hopeless someone can feel. It has broken my heart. And truth be told, it doesn’t even matter how it happened. It happened. And nothing can change the fact that he’s gone from the world. And I feel that absence every day now. I’ve cried, I’ve been angry, I’ve felt everything. I’m a writer and when someone connects with that part of you, you do feel like you know them. That is why music is so powerful. You connect, you share the feeling. These artists mold and shape you, they’re there for you. So when you lose that, you feel as if a part of you is lost.
But one thing, I’m still here and for the sake of Chris and all of us who carry him with us, I am strong. I will still play those songs of his shamelessly as I continue to live my life. I will teach my son and daughter about guitar and self expression, writing. And sadly though I have no new albums to get me through the rest of it, I can be satisfied knowing he left everything I’d need going forward.
Chris Cornell, you changed my life and I will carry your words, talent, inspiration with me forever. Thank you.
“No matter the price, a promise to survive, persevere and thrive as we’ve always done.”
Brooklyn
Julie Hines
I’ve been fortunate enough to have seen Chris 10 times in concert (back in the day with Lollapalooza and his solo days, Audioslave, more solo and Soundgarden again) I live in Cleveland Ohio and when friends of mine got tickets to see Soundgarden in Detroit last May, I was so excited and kept calling it “best day ever!” – it was and….then it was the worst – my close friends reached out to me to express their understanding for what I was feeling – the joy his music gave me will never die and my sorrow runs deep – I pray for his family and can only imagine their pain – I pray for peace in their lives and I’m truly thankful for him sharing his talent with us all – the vulnerability expressed through his voice was so real, so rich, so expressive- what a great release it was for me – as a fan, it’s hard to think as I watched his last performance that he was hurting, or scared, or fed up with life or something else – wish I could have helped, for his family’s sake much more than mine – I think, if things get too hard or times are too tough, it’s ok to just escape and disappear – change your scenery – to be honest, I wish he would have done just that – disappeared with his family – start a new…….Rest In Peace Chris – much love always – I attached a photo I took from his last performance.
Julie
October 16, 2017
Photocoyote
One of my favorite shots of Chris of all time was taken by my friend Charles Peterson back in December 1993 at Avast Studio in Seattle and it’s included in his book “Screaming Life: A Chronicle of Seattle Music Scene” (1995).
Always thought Charles perfectly captured the deep soul of Chris.
That picture shows you a visionary man, his strength and sweetness.
Truly touches my heart now.
It was natural to me to get inspired by that picture when I drew this portrait, titled “CC’93”.
Making it, a few days after Chris left this world, helped me a lot to vent my anger, frustration and pain for such a tragic loss. I felt as if my house had been bombed in the middle of a serene sunny day all of a sudden. It was my immediate way of dealing with. I’ve put all my broken heart into it.
So, I made it for me and I made it to celebrate the life of a man whose art has given me so much for so many years. And I’m so grateful to know that his art will be with me forever.
I met Chris, my musical hero, about 10 years ago and I had the chance to spend a little time chatting with him. He put me at ease, he was kind, friendly and very humble. I’ll never forget his silent kinda feline way to move.
I’ll never forget anything about him.
Photocoyote
Carly Glynn
Chris was the first real rock star I fell in love with. I was probably 11 years old. I heard his voice on the radio and I felt something I never knew before. I felt soul. So I dialed up the old AOL and asked Jeeves who this beautiful voice belonged to. And I saw him. And I could almost see the soul I heard in his voice in his eyes. And I searched and I found out all I could about him and his music and I went out and bought all the cds I could find. I picked up a guitar. I hid in my room with my headphones screaming in my ears and blisters on my fingers. I made it through most of high school that way. And to this day every time I hear his voice, a part of me inside feels home. Chris was an idol for me. An inspiration. An emotional safety net. He was to so many of us. And we will always be grateful to have been lucky enough to be alive on this big rock in the sky at the same time as him. My love goes to his family. May you always find the feeling of home in his voice, because he’s always with you.
Gina
My husband told me of your passing over dinner. I tried to ignore it over the next two days, telling myself that mourning a person that I never met was ridiculous. On the third day, I broke down. I cried all day, and tried to analyze why your death affected me so profoundly. I concluded that you were present throughout my life, and I was so distraught over your passing because for the past 30 years your music has helped me to get to know myself.
Through your music I have grown. I was a latch key kid of the early 90s, with many reasons to be angry, and I’ve grown into a mother and adult who is just trying to find peace amongst all the terrible things that happen in this world. Sometimes it seems so difficult to search for the beauty around us when so many shitty things happen, but without at least trying, we are only sitting under clouds of doom waiting for the rain. I teach visual arts at an urban middle school, and I’ve dealt with a lot of kids that have reasons to feel cheated, and like the world is a cruel place. Discussing artistic ideas, and getting kids involved in the arts is an amazing way to deal with these feelings. The arts build confidence, and I’m so happy your wife has decided to honor your legacy through helping young children through music.
I’ve always felt a parallel between your music and the point I’m at emotionally in my life because you’ve managed to remain relevant. You had a knack for writing lyrics that were genuine and uncontrived. They resonated with so many of us because they paint vivid pictures of what we are all dealing with, trying to come to terms with, and experiences which we hope to grow from.
Here’s three moments I’ll never forget:
When I was 10 (and clearly unsupervised) my older brother, his friend, and myself BBQed all of my old Barbie dolls after making ourselves hot dogs for dinner. We watched the video to Black Hole Sun earlier in the day. The imagery from that video will be ingrained in my mind forever. I remember going to bed that night thinking about the relevance of the Barbie doll roasting. I concluded that it was a play on words; but as a 5ft Italian girl with dark hair, I realized that Barbie looked nothing like me, and was an awful icon for a young girl. It was my introduction to seeing myself as a strong female that didn’t have to fit the status quo. I have Soundgarden to thank for that.
When I first met my future husband, he planned a weekend trip for us. We almost never started dating because I bailed on him to go to a Chris Cornell concert at the Beacon in 2007. I just graduated college and was broke, so we had terrible seats, but you gave us a shout out for our loud cheering. It was the best concert I’ve ever been to. To see a rock star of your magnitude play an acoustic show in a smallish theatre was a brilliant idea. Your desire to play in this context was genius. You brought your children on stage at this show.They must have been about 2 or 3 and it was the most adorable moment. After I heard of your death, all I pictured was those babies. My heart was broken for them.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve pulled out my old Soundgarden CDs, and have been rediscovering them. My three year old was able to identify Black Hole Sun by the intro alone, proclaiming “Black Hole Sun! Turn it all the way loud mommy. It’s my favorite song” and singing along. I was so shocked and proud. Your legacy will live on through those who loved you and your music. I promise you that.
Millions of the fans have smal moments like these centered around the music you’ve made. Although we didn’t know you, you’ve been woven in the fabric of so many of our lives, always present, growing alongside us.
I’ve always thought that maybe in another world we would get a chance to have a meaningful conversation. I would have loved to pick your brain. I’ll continue to dream, hoping our paths will cross in another life, all the while welcoming reminders of you as they appear.
Thank you for always being there.
Admirably,
Gina
Joel Schutte
Summer of 2016 I drove my 13-year old daughter 3+ hours for her first concert – to see Chris Cornell at Adler Theater in Davenport, Iowa. We did not have tickets, and stood outside hoping for someone to have a pair of tickets for us to buy. An hour went past and no tickets were to be found. A few minutes before show time we got discouraged and were prepared to give up, when suddenly a man approached and asked if we needed tickets. We said yes, and he handed us a pair and only wanted face value. We practically sprinted into the theater, and as we scanned the rows for our seats we were shocked to discover we were sitting in the 4th row right in front of center stage. I watched Chris play his heart out, but also watched my beautiful daughter sing and smile for over 2 hours. Soundgarden is her (and my) favorite band, but she also loves Audioslave and Chris’s solo work. Her feet barely touched the ground as we walked to our car after the show, and she talked nonstop about the songs he sang and the words he said until we got home after 2am. She wore the concert tshirt we bought for her that night to the first day of school in August.
We were thrilled to be able to see Soundgarden together in Kansas City on May 14, just a few days before he passed away. I am so glad I was able to share that with her. It’s something we still talk about and will never forget.
Amora Blessing
Chris used to come into the zoo with his first daughter quite often. I worked there in the food court. Chris was always so sweet, gentle, kind and very humble. I cannot at this time recall our specific conversations. He came to my line every time. I would always treat him like a normal person, and yet he wasn’t; Chris had an otherworldly quality about him and it was almost as if we spoke without speaking. I made it clear that I was a fan but in such a gentle, unobtrusive way that I could tell he appreciated. I wish I could go back and make sure I communicated gratitude and love in a deeper way. His music and voice was one that helped me survive my youth. Music saved me and I am sure it saved him many times. The choice to leave us couldn’t have been easy. The choice to stay isn’t easy either, but even though he’s in a different place, he’s still helping us to survive. Keep going. We’ll all see him again. Until then, turn it up!
– Amora
