THE FILLMORE at IRVING PLAZA NYC
review and photos by Christine Natanael
LINKS:
As the lights came up and the sonorous strains of “Spoonman” rolled over the assembled worshippers like a freight train, Cornell proceeded to take them up into the stratosphere and around more than a few twisting curves over the course of his set. From the rumble of “Spoonman” he proceeded into “Original Fire” and then into “No Such Thing”, a new solo song. Both were delivered casually, yet with inspiration, before slamming into an abrupt meditative moment with his passionate delivery of “Say Hello To Heaven”. This song brought me to tears, as I fondly remembered my own interview so many years ago with Andrew Wood of Mother Love Bone, and as fate would deal it, also of being with the Soundgarden guys at Maxwell’s in Hoboken, NJ the night that Chris found out about his former roommate’s death by overdose. The years have not taken an ounce of the emotional pain from the lyrics, Cornell’s delivery of them, or the brotherly love that was behind them.
The crowd for the evening was quite the mix with a good strong showing of young Audioslave fans, as was evidenced by the roof-raising singing on “Like A Stone”. Still, Cornell reached deep and heavy as he laid into “Outshined”, with a voice clearer and more pitch-perfect than in the past few years, giving new life and lift to the Badmotorfinger anthem that helped propel his career. After that pulmonary workout, he slowed it down considerably for the tune “Seasons” with beautiful acoustic guitar accompaniment by band member Peter Thorn.
It was at this point in the show that Chris made a comical yet appropriately sardonic comment, about the lighting and all the people taping the show in the front and how we’d all see it on YouTube the next day. How right he was, as I watched the swimming, swirling lights he stood within and listened to the flitting waves of his smooth falsetto.
The intimate feeling continued as Cornell picked up his own acoustic and confessed to the crowd that his wife, Vicky, had requested the very next song. At that point, he started into the most intimate and dynamic “Call Me A Dog” from the Temple Of The Dog album, with just the man, the guitar, and an appropriate amount of reverb on the mic to make that big voice send chills up your spine as the crescendo built into that big awesomely retching howl at the end.
Bringing it down a notch, (to catch his breath, no doubt), Chris next brought out one of my favorites from his vastly underrated first solo record. His delivery of “Can’t Change Me” was so much more definitive than the album, it was fast encroaching on the vitriolic. He practically spat the chorus into the microphone.
As the band re-joined him on the stage and the chords of Audioslave’s “Don’t Remind Me” rolled out of the P.A., the energy level came up again, especially in the younger fans, who seemed tortured by some of the unfamiliar tunes. The energy seemed to be rolling on the up until they pulled out “What You Are”. With the lyrics “not afraid” repeated over and over, it is a droning piece of sludge I didn’t care for, personally, hitting somewhere between 1990 and mud…but to each his own. Still, for mud, it was well-executed. It took “Rustry Cage” to pull the crowd fully out of its slumbering cocoon. And did it—kicking and shredding! But Cornell had orchestrated the night’s set like a rollercoaster, for no sooner did he get them up and going with “Rusty Cage”, than he put the lid on and turned the fire down again by bringing out a Soundgarden rarity entitled “Zero Chance” that Cornell introduced as being one of his favorite SG songs ever and having only been played live twice.
Nice as that little nugget was, the show-stopper of the evening was the hauntingly slow cover of Michael Jackson’s “Billy Jean”, pulling it out like a tortured bluesman, remaking MJ’s sugar-coated dance-pop classic into a lament full of soulful anguish. (I know I can easily see this as the big runaway hit if released as a live video and single.)
He ended the set with a raft-raising version of “Loud Love” from the Ultra Mega OK album, leaving the crowd a bit tired and wrung, but far from ready to call it a night. They showed their appreciation with thunderous applause, and while calling for the encore, they had enough banging and boot-stomping going to have The Fillmore at Irving Plaza, which has its performance area on the second floor and which is composed mainly of wood, vibrating loudly with their love.
Cornell and band returned to thank the crowd for their appreciation and proceeded to whip them up with a rousing sing-a-long version of the Temple Of The Dog hit “Hunger Strike”. Although he had written “You Know My Name” on the set list as the next tune, Chris decided to give them a new one off the new album called “Carry On”. The crowd was polite, but didn’t know how to react to the unfamiliar material. (New Yorkers are notoriously hard audiences, you know). After they kept screaming for “Jesus Christ Pose”, Chris gave them “Black Hole Sun” instead. Yeah, it’s that Grammy-winner and stuff and probably required, but the damn radio plays it to death. I’m sick of it, and although he did a great version of the droning classic, I would have preferred something like “Drawing Flies” instead. I thought, as they left the stage, that “Black Hole Sun” just wasn’t a high note on which to end a show.
The crowd very much agreed. Again, the banging and stomping and cheering began. The crowd would not leave. It was “Jesus Christ Pose” they wanted. Nothing less would appease. And that is just what they got when Cornell returned triumphantly to the stage. The tribal drums, the dissonant guitar, and his voice—that instrument so finely tuned and well-projected with its crescendo and forte perfectly punctuated and precise—ended the evening as a show should be, with a huge monstrous bang and the crowd completely spent.
