Twilight Horizon

Sunday, May 3 ‘09 THE WILTERN – LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA – NIGHT

Prelude

Crowded. Young. Old.
A stage and general admission seating.
The Crash Kings opened the show: a bearded bassist, a singer in white tights playing keyboard, a v-neck-shirted drummer. I never heard or saw them before, but for a bass, drums, and a singer on keys, they were pretty fucking cool.
Buzzy bassy songs blasted through the speakers, vocals harkening back to Queensryche. On their second song, a special guest came out, guitar slung over his shoulder: Peter Thorn. The highlight of their set came during their fourth track: a bad ass bass solo. During the fifth song, the singer broke out his keyboard whammy bar, bending out a hoppin’ and boppin’ piano-guitar-solo. After announcing their debut record would be released May 26th, they proceeded to play their single, getting the crowd going crazy.
As they began their tenth tune, Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs,” a tall dude in a trench-coat-hoodie and jeans stepped out, wailing, “Generals gathered in their masses / Just like witches at black masses/”: it was Chris Cornell, stretching his vocal cords before his Scream marathon, his curly bangs bushing out, throwing his hands up like a thug, curls covering his face. After the song, he hugged the guitarist and bassist, took off his hood, waved to us, and walked off stage.
Then, DJ Steve, Prophet, and a guy in a fedora hat strumming an acoustic – looking somewhat like a Justin Timberlake impersonator – cranked out some tunes, including hip hop Aerosmith beats, and a rendition of Cornell’s “Enemy,” After that, an announcer told us we were in for, “a unique, rare experience…A rock legend, Chris Cornell.”

Main Event

The programmed prelude track to “Part of Me” sounded, pumping everybody up. Thump-pumping-Timbaland hip hop beats, crossed with live drums, pounded through the amps: Cornell, in hoodie and jeans, strided across the stage singing,“Little girl. I love when she talks to me. Got to smile. When she walks that walk with me.” The band: a Les Paul in a leather jacket, Peter Thorn, a shaved-headed Dude on bass, and a Guy – in what looked like one of those ties you see sailors wear – on drums. The crowd went fucking nuts. Chris held his hand in the air – “That bitch ain’t part of me” – something which he did often during the entire performance; his screaming, high-pitched vocals harkened back to his Badmotorfinger-days. The guitars riffed, shredding our ears – the recorded version merely a pipsqueak compared to this. During the guitar solo, Chris jumped on a speaker, bobbing his head up and down to the kick-ass beat.
Just as on the record, this song segwayed into “Time,” the guitarists providing the backing vocals on the chorus. The song once again doing more than justice to the recorded version.

Chris asked us, “What’s my name?…You need to get louder back there." He pointed to the orchestra section (known to some as “the pit”), and began singing, “If you take a life / do you know what you’ll get?” That’s right, “You Know My Name.” The bassist was so excited he leapt onto the speaker. Chris took off his hoodie, dog tag glistening around his neck, black sweat guards around his wrists. As the band shredded up the song, I felt like James Bond skydiving with the coolest fucking track playing.

“If you’re thirsty, get yourself a glass of water,” Cornell said. And with a cymbal TAP TAP TAP, they broke into Burden in my Hand.” It was fucking awesome. It sounded like a country tune, guitars twangy. Despite that, the body of the original song was there, full-blooded rock. “Follow me into the desert as thirsty as we are” (did he just tweak the lyrics? Fucking cool). Chris crooned the chorus, pointing to his head, “I lost my head again/ Would you lie for me?” – putting the studio-vocal-track to shame: this guy can really rip up some bad-ass vocals.

Next they played Audioslave’s “Show Me How to Live.” A little blonde girl came out and started tapping a drumstick on the kick drum (I think it was Cornell’s daughter). Chris hopped around in circles as his vocals raged, “Nail in my hand.” The guitar solo wasn’t quite Morello-esque, but a good attempt by Thorn. Being that this was Chris Cornell – not Audioslave – every song sounded slightly modified, a hot rod engine outweighing the stock car, new parts growing from the gut and screaming from the muffler.

“Ground Zero” blended hip hop drum machine beats and programmed vocal tracks seamlessly. Segwaying into “Never Far Away”: the stage backdrop changed, looking like rose petals in water. “You are the road / That I will travel / You are the words I write,” sang Cornell. During the chorus, he clasped his hands over the mic, “And I don’t have to pray / Anymore / My soul has been saaaaaved /And now. Whenever I come. Wherever I go. No, you’re never. Far away, far away. /He faced the mic to us, and we took the lyrics…Whenever I come / Wherever I go / No, you’re never. Far away, far away. /Whenever I come / Wherever I go / No, you’re never / Far away, far awaaaay / Never far awaaaaaaay.
The overhead lights dimmed, the stage blackening. The band left, leaving only Cornell. He strapped on an acoustic, and latched a capo on the fret board. He strummed beautiful chords, singing, “She can do anything at all, and anything she please-ez.” He gazed at the crowd – as if entranced. He definitely sang differently with the guitar: curt, focused; last word of every line held back slightly. “Can’t Change Me” was “The last song I wrote for the record, Cornell told us. Then, he took the capo off, strummed a riff that got us cheering, especially when he began, “Whatsover I fear has / come to life…” The flowery acoustic chords contrasted with the dark lyrics – making the song more melancholic than pure Superunknown-dark. He skipped the solo (I don’t know about anyone else, but I really wanted to hear those Arabian notes flutter across the acoustic) and instead raked the pick across the strings.

Two acoustics and the drummer came out stage right. Cornell slung his guitar to the side, put the mic to his lips, “Seasons, roll by…/” This song drifted like clouds in the sky, giving you that fold-your-hands-behind-your-head feeling, “Seasons roll…on by” Cornell crooned. A meadow. Day gives way to night, and night to morning. Leaves brown. Branches bare. Sun shines. Branches bud. Maybe that’s not what the song was about, but, man, that’s how relaxed it made me feel.

Having shed the acoustic, he pressed the mic to his lips, “You’re our hometown crowd…It’s good to be home.” Cornell traipsed around the stage during “Be Yourself.” A bitchin’ guitar solo blasted out of the amps. At one point, our singer got his hands on an audience member’s camera, and started filming us, and after having trouble with it, asked his bandmate to help. Once they figured it out, he started filming us: yeah, we all screamed like crazy.

For “Billie Jean,” the band sat down on the speakers, Cornell on the floor. “Don’t go breakin’ young girl’s hearts.” The vocalist’s two daughters came out, no more than three feet tall, headphones on. He held one of them; the other tapped a drum stick to the beat. He put one of them around his shoulders, singing, “But Billy Jean is not my lover.” The crowd screamed, loving it.

“Blow up the Outside World” exemplified Cornell’s vocal range, like nothing I’d ever heard on his records or live singing under Audioslave; especially when he howled the chorus: “Blow up the outside… /,” you could feel the energy in the room, the warmth in the air before storm. Cornell’s vocals sounded like the ocean wind through your ears, echoing, spanning years: Soundgarden, Temple of the Dog, Audioslave, and solo records. Cornell at his vocal-best; dynamic all the way. The song crescendo-ed on the last chorus into an anthem we all chanted, “Blow up the outside / Blow up the outside / Blow UP the outside world / Blow up the outside woooorrlllld…./

“Outshined” – a song I used to sing when I was a kid with my friends on the way to the school bus stop – got me and the audience head banging, the floor threatening to buckle under our stomping soles. This song was fucking heavy, and sounded even better than the record version. Considering how eased back his vocals have been since Carry On, it thrilled me to hear him screech (and it sounded awesome, by the way) the lyrics, “Outshined.”

After outshining us, Chris said, “Let’s be louder than any other audience.” To which the band pounded out “Set it off.” Sole-stomping, drum pounding, guitar palm muting, a bridge from hell; the two guys next to me couldn’t stop hopping, throwing their hands out. Chaos. Chris swung the mic stand. Holy shit. The kind of thing I’d see him do in Audioslave – going solo he still performed with the same, if not more, umph.

“Hunger Strike” conjured images of Eddie Vedder and random shots from the film Singles in my mind, transporting me to a non-existent late 80’s Seattle night club hearing this Pearl Jam-Cornell song for the first time live. He even let us sing the chorus (How fucking cool).

“We’ve been around the world and now we’re home…You’re the best fans in the world,” said Cornell before the title track to his latest record. “Scream” made me feel like I was standing atop a building, arms out, waiting for the wind to carry me away. Bliss, baby.

I wrote it back in 1998…but it’s a little bittersweet for now,” said Cornell as he introduced the next song. Whenever I had listened to “Preaching the End of the World,” I always thought Cornell was speaking to a friend or a lover. But taking into account the economic events since November 2008, what Cornell said deepened its meaning:
Coz all has been lost / and all has been won / and there’s nothing left for us to save / But I know that I want to be alone today / So if you find that you’ve been feeling just the same / Call me now it’s all right. It’s just the end of the world. You’ll need a friend in the world / Coz you can’t hide / So call me I’ll get right back . If your intentions are pure / Seeking a friend, for the end of the world…. /and then…We could be together as they blow it all away / And we could share in every moment as it breaks / So call me now it’s all right / It’s just the end of the world / you’ll need a friend in the world / coz you can’t hide / so call me I’ll get right back / If your intentions are pure / seeking a friend, for the end of the world /.I never thought that song could take on a global meaning.
“This next one’s a request.” Leather Jacket produced a slide, harping out the lead to “The Day I tried to Live,” the bass rumbled in, beating our ears from the inside. “I woke the same / as any other day except a voice was in my head…” “…I wallowed in the blood and mud, with all the other pigs / As the song neared close, Cornell sat on the floor, drawing invisible circles with his finger: “The day I tried to win / I wallowed in the blood and mud / with all the other pigs / And I learned that I was a liar (one more time around)…Singing one more time around -- might do it / One more time around -- might make it/.

Leslie-guitar effects wailed out of Leather Jacket’s guitar, running a slide up the fret board, as Cornell sang, "In my eyes / in dispose / in disguise as no one knows…/.” “Black Hole Sun” took on a slow, jazzy feel – how different it sounded live. He pulled his hair back from his face, “Black Hole Sun / Won’t you come / “ At one point, he hopped into the mosh pit, ran through the crowd, the audience encircled him, “Black Hole Sun, Black Hole Sun / Won’t you come…?/ He jumped on stage, and finished the song.

End

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He played a lot of other kick-ass songs that night. You gotta see him for yourself to experience them, as this is nothing compared to the live show.

Other songs played

• “Doesn’t Remind Me.”

• “Rusty Cage”• “Cochise”

• “Watch Out,”

• “Spoonman.” “All my friends are Mexican/.” (Did he really say, “Mexican?” or “brown and red?” Nice! Maybe my hearing is bad. Cool, nonetheless). Holy shit, what a fucking awesome drum solo. Damn, this guy can really play.

(Disclaimer: I had so much fun at this show that some of the songs as they were actually played may/or may not be out of order. In addition, this is in no way meant to be a concert review. I do not work for any news publication. Feel free to leave comments (And, yes, I do have a good memory, or maybe I’m a cyborg).

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Monday, June 8, 2009

Cornell, California

Monday, July 23, 2007

Clips -- Daniel Zechmeister III

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