Title:Euphoria Morning By: Cornell, Chris Released by: A & M Records Released on: 1999 Rating (out of 10): 7 Date: 06/26/2001
Distilled For Your Listening Protection
I was surprised how small a man Chris Cornell was when I first saw him perform in February, just a few miles from here at the University of Utah campus. I remember actually wondering to myself how he managed to keep his jeans from coming off. And the almost requisite tight white tank-top (a/k/a “wifebeater”) wasn’t exactly exposing any huge upper body muscles. It seemed this man, though he looked very much like Cornell, was some sort of an impostor.
Then Cornell started to sing. There was The Voice, the same one that had pushed Soundgarden and Temple of the Dog to the forefront in the '90s, with Alice in Chains and Stone Temple Pilots not far behind them, nipping at their heels. Effortlessly, almost magically, that familiar voice thundered out of this tiny little man as he sauntered around the stage like a half-asleep Tom Jones—reaching out to touch outstretched hands, pointing and waving to screaming girls, beaming a somewhat embarrassed smile.
Cornell had every reason to be happy. His audience had followed him where he’d decided to take his music, and it no longer rested in the wallows of grunge. He had created a new genre and style to call his very own.
Call it “alterna-jazz-rock-lounge-fusion.” Not to worry, Mr. Newton. Though there is no danger of his headlining in Vegas any time soon, Cornell's performance solidified his rebirth as an unlikely crooner for Generation Y.
Soundgarden broke up because Cornell wanted to sow his creative oats in greener pastures, in a realm that would allow him to do whatever he pleased musically. Fans should have seen this new style coming when he recorded “Ave Maria” with Eleven (whose members make up his backing band currently) for the festive 1997 collaboration A Very Special Christmas 3. It seemed an odd choice at the time, but it foreshadowed the direction he was set to take.
Citing The Beatles as one his biggest influences—a band that were also equally comfortable changing their style as the times they were a-changin’, dipping their toes in the pools of pop and psychedelia at separate times—Cornell's lyrics reflect the fun he’s having in “Sweet Euphoria.” One of the most intimate pieces on Euphoria Morning (one might describe it as Cornell: Unplugged), it consists of Cornell, alone on the guitar and waxing lyrical about “plastic armies,” “land-mine pillows,” and “daydream mangos.” Shades of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” anyone?
Few tunes on Euphoria Morning match the easily digestible radio fare of today, making it a difficult album to listen to. No songs have been released as singles since the short-lived success of “Can’t Change Me,” the reason I bought the album in the first place (though “Wave Goodbye,” his tribute to his friend, the late musical genius Jeff Buckley, should have been given a standing chance). Cornell is so excited about letting loose on his debut, he rarely sticks to a hard-and-fast sound throughout the duration of the album.
Though the very recognizable growl is almost entirely gone, it still rears its head in songs like “Pillow of Your Bones,” which can be described as sounding like Soundgarden Lite (distilled for your listening protection). The melodic “When I’m Down” has a crawling, jazzy blues feel to it. And “Wave Goodbye” starts with the all the guitar-funk of a Lenny Kravitz tune, featuring Cornell’s voice at its most relaxed, even borrowing from Buckley’s high-pitched wail as a sort of homage.
Initially, I was unimpressed with Euphoria Morning. I gave it a couple of listens before Cornell’s appearance in our fair city and a bit more after the concert, but the unevenness of it really tended to throw me off. It probably took over 6 months of sporadic listening for me to acknowledge its genius, appreciating it for its amazingly multilayered songs. I even found myself humming to one of them the other day.
Fans expecting Soundgarden from Cornell may as well pass Euphoria Morning by the wayside—they should already know he has moved on. He’s a happier man doing what he’s doing now and shows no sign of retracing his steps. Does anybody else notice a trend here? Our angst-ridden waifs Alanis and Fiona also ditched their anger to become shiny, happy people, as exposed on their sophomore album covers, all grins. I doubt Cornell jumped on any sort of “musicians’ bandwagon,” but he definitely took a turn for the better in my book.
Consensus? Buy Euphoria Morning, spend some time with it, and allow it to permeate your skull and shake your brain up a little, though it will probably take a while. Like so much jazz fusion, it needs to be experienced over and over to be appreciated.
