Album review: Soundgarden, Superunknown

Album cover for Superunknown.

It didn't hit has hard as Kurt Cobain's death in 1994. It didn't hurt as much as Pearl Jam's left-field anti-grunge album No Code in 1996. Heck, after lengthy rumours of infighting and exhaustion, as well as their wayward Big Day Out appearance in Auckland, Soundgarden's demise had been signposted for months.

But when Chris Cornell and co called it quits in 1997, to a bunch of broke student skateboarders drinking warm beer in a tiny hostel bedroom in Auckland, it was a very big deal. Their exit felt like the end of a flannel-clad era; we didn't realise it at the time, but we were waving goodbye to grunge.

Grafton's student Hall of Residence was where my friends and I mourned Soundgarden's passing, commiserating with warm beers, bad air guitar and out-of-tune singalongs while sharing memories about their live shows. An occasional tear might have been shed.

We blasted their music as long and as loud as hall monitors would allow. If there were complaints from neighbours, it wasn't because we were playing 1988's Ultramega OK, 1989's Louder Than Love, 1991's Badmotorfinger and 1996's Down on the Upside at ridiculous volumes.

The Soundgarden album we turned to in our time of grief was Superunknown, the Seattle band's 1994 peak that was, and remains, their grandest statement. It's the perfect combination of Chris Cornell's epic wailing, Ben Sheppard's graveyard bass sludge, and Kim Thayil's violent guitar riffs, a mega-racket guided by Matt Cameron's experienced hands.

Looking back, there was no real indication Soundgarden had a Superunknown in them. They'd released two 80s hair metal albums beloved by headbangers (look at that hair on the cover art for Louder Than Love) but failed to grab grunge fans. Badmotorfinger was a little closer to where they'd end up, but it's like comparing a movie trailer that skipped all the best bets, to the ultimate director's cut. Alongside Superunknown, it can't compete.

They did it by doing things differently. Helmed by the slavedriving style of producer Michael Beinhorn, Superunknown's 16 tracks slowed their Led Zeppelin-inspired riffage to sluggish walls of grinding, pile-driving rhythms. Twenty years on, most songs remain so potent the intros to Fresh Tendrils, My Wave and Fell on Black Days can still send shivers of anticipation down the spine. That's before the album's biggest moments: Spoonman's ridiculously awesome racket (reportedly demoed on pots and pans as a joke), Black Hole Sun's gloomy balladeering, The Day I Tried To Live's sprawling sweet spot and Like Suicide's face-smashing rumble.

Here, remastered, it sounds better than ever, crackling and sparkling in all the right places. If you're a superfan, grab the four-disc Super Deluxe edition. Some of the bonus material is unnecessary (Steve Fisk's simplistic Spoonman remix, anyone?) but the rough and ready rehearsals disc is essential listening for any Soundgarden fan -- even if it's just to hear Cornell barking orders like, "Do it faster" at his bandmates.

His demands are ironic, because Superunknown did everything slower. As Cornell puts it during Mailman's grimy feedback blitz of a finale: "I know I'm heading for the bottom, but I'm riding you all the way,"

They're the lyrics those drunken Grafton students sung the loudest. Twenty years on, you can still hear the echo.

Verdict:

Cornell and co's loudest statement gets grand reissue

Click here to buy Superunknown by Soundgarden.

- TimeOut