
Chris Cornell
Carry On
(Suretone/Interscope)
First Appeared in The Music Box, June 2007, Volume 14, #6
Written by John Metzger
Fri June 29, 2007, 06:00 AM CDT
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The title to Chris Cornell’s latest effort says it all: Carry On. Ten years ago, Soundgarden, the outfit that brought him fame and fortune, disbanded, and Audioslave, the so-called supergroup with which he since has spent the bulk of his time, recently fizzled out in a haze of creative differences. The combination of these events subsequently has left Cornell with no options but to soldier onward through the fog by releasing his second solo set. Unfortunately, rather than returning to the restless energy that he brought to Euphoria Morning — the endeavor that eight years ago earned him heaps of critical praise as well as a Grammy, even as it was met with an apathetic yawn by his fans — Cornell did what every aging rocker with a wife, a kid, and a house in France would do under similar circumstances: He played it safe.
Throughout Carry On, Cornell adorned himself in a number of musical costumes that were designed not only to forge a connection to his past but also to move his music forward. He cops from Moby’s Natural Blues on She’ll Never Be Your Man, fills Safe and Sound with an array of soul-imbued inflections, and turns his grungy roots into the Guns N Roses theatricality of You Know My Name, which also served as the theme to the latest James Bond flick. Elsewhere, he uses Stones-y guitar riffs to propel Your Soul Today, plucks a guitar solo from Robby Krieger’s playbook for Scar on the Sky, and crosses George Harrison with The Band on Finally Forever.
The problem, however, is that although Cornell casts a wide net, he never 
latches onto anything meaningful. Even when he does cut loose during the 
Soundgarden-esque grunge of No Such Thing, it’s easy to see that his 
heart just isn’t in it. As the drums crash and boom and the guitars chug and 
scream, Cornell unleashes the kind of powerful wailing that he could deliver in 
his sleep, but the gut-wrenching angst that ought to be there is noticeably 
absent. It’s inordinately telling that Carry On’s riskiest moment comes 
during his rendition of Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean, but although the 
dark, blues-y undercurrent that he unveils (courtesy of Mark Lanegan) is a tad 
unsettling, his interpretation of the tune still manages to fall flat. Lost and 
adrift, Cornell frequently sounds like he is caught in a time warp. He doesn’t 
want to return to the raging, heavy metal fury of Soundgarden, but he also isn’t 
sure how to translate his past successes into something that is befitting of his 
age. As the lackluster quality of Carry On proves, trying to advance 
without a clear-cut game plan is a recipe for disaster. ![]()
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Of Further Interest...
Marc Broussard - S.O.S.: Save Our Soul
Screaming Trees - Ocean of Confusion: Songs of Screaming Trees, 1990–1996
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Carry On is available from Barnes & Noble.
To order, Click Here!
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Ratings
1 Star: Pitiful
2 Stars: Listenable
3 Stars: Respectable
4 Stars: Excellent
5 Stars: Can't Live Without It!!
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Copyright © 2007 The Music Box
