Track #17 - “Fell On Black Days” by Soundgarden (1994)

From the album Superunknown

Music and lyrics by Chris Cornell

Performed by:

Chris Cornell – lead vocals, rhythm guitar

Kim Thayil – lead guitar  

Ben Shepherd – bass   

Matt Cameron – drums

US Billboard Mainstream Rock - #4; US Billboard Alternative Airplay - #13

So what you wanted to see good

Had made you blind

And what you wanted to be yours

Has made it mine

Don’t you lock up something

That you wanted to see fly

Hands are for shaking

No, not tying, no, not tying

 When I told people I was going to work for a not-for-profit in New York City in 1994, I got some weird looks, and if I’m being honest, some rude comments about my decision. “But you have an Accounting degree; what about Arthur Andersen or Price Waterhouse, or one of the big insurance companies?”, is one example I can recall. But at that time, in 1994, I needed a job, and more important, a change, so when this large not-for-profit organization offered me a job working in their payroll department that summer, I took it. I knew I could keep job hunting and probably find something that would pay more money, and might even be closer to home, but I saw this as a learning opportunity. Plus, it seemed like the most stressful part of the job was the two-hour door-to-door commute, and not the job itself, and that was exactly what I needed. As I navigated the first few months in my new position and got used to riding the Long Island Rail Road every day, I began to realize I was surrounded by the most diverse group of individuals I had ever been around. People commuted to the office from all five boroughs of New York City, and from Long Island, New Jersey, Connecticut, and Westchester. They were all ages, from interns and recent college grads to people that had been with the agency 30+ years, when it first started. And more important, they were Black, Asian, Hispanic, Latino, Muslim, Asian, Jewish…like I said, the most diverse group of individuals I had ever been a part of. I also quickly learned that these people, especially the ones that were employed there the longest, were not in it for the money. They were passionate about what they did and about the agency’s cause and mission. Not for profit work typically does not pay what a for profit entity would, and while this one paid better than most, it was still relatively low. But at the time I wasn’t concerned; I told myself it would even out and eventually get better, and lead to other opportunities. For now, it was where I needed to be. I soon became very friendly with other members of the various finance and accounting teams and got to know managers of other areas as well; because I was in payroll, I got to know everyone, believe me. My first year passed without incident, although I did have a lot of sore throats and colds that first winter. I chalked it up to the germs on the train and not getting enough sleep. Other than that, I didn’t have much to complain about. The work was steady, somewhat predictable, and rewarding. One day in late 1995, I was sitting in what we called our “lunchroom”, which was nothing more than a space with a couple of tables, a copy machine, and a door to a large terrace that people congregated on if the weather cooperated. Today was not one of those days, so I settled at a table with lunch and a book, knowing the group I usually ate with would not be joining me today. After a few minutes I was joined by our front desk coordinator, a girl named Melanie that I had recently became friendly with. Melanie was of Puerto Rican descent, lived in Brooklyn and was probably about 21 at the time, with long brown hair and brown eyes and a big, warm personality. She would often join the rest of us for lunch and was quick to smile and say hi whenever I passed the lobby area of our floor. As I had gotten to know her, she came off way more mature than her age, and she was extremely easy to talk to. So, when she sat down with me that day, I closed my book and we quickly started chatting. After we got past the usual “This week has been crazy, is it Friday yet?” banter, we started catching up and I asked her if she did anything interesting the night before, and her casual reply was, “Oh I just went to go see my therapist.” I stopped chewing, and I couldn’t tell if I turned red or if the color drained from my face, but I knew I felt as if someone had just confessed that they were cheating on their spouse or that they stole money from their sick grandmother. No one had ever, in that offhand way, told me that they went to see a therapist. I had always thought you kept that private, or that you only told close family members. Melanie must have seen my face because she laughed and said, “I’m sorry John, is that too much information?” I don’t remember my exact response, but I probably said that she didn’t have to share that with me if she didn’t want to, that I was just making conversation. And then Melanie said something that freed me in a way: “John, everyone should be in therapy. And most people who say they aren’t, probably are.” Like I said, more mature than her years; and she was right, because only a year before, I fell into that second group of people: seeing not only therapist, but a psychiatrist, so I could get medication to help me through the issues I was having, and keeping it to myself. Not many people knew that about me, and it was certainly something I had never offered up to people when I first met them. So, as I sat there and looked at Melanie who was brave enough to share that she was in therapy right now, I wondered why I was reluctant to talk about my own struggles with anxiety, including my close friends. Was I embarrassed, or afraid it might make me look weak? Or was it because I was this young guy, in his early 20s, who at one point was afraid of getting out of bed in the morning and sometimes had to pull the car over to the side of the road to have a panic attack? But that day, I suddenly felt the need to just talk about it. Melanie’s words and the way she invited me into that part of her life really empowered me at that moment, and if I’m being honest, I was a little ashamed for being so guarded about my own experiences with therapy, when this person sitting across from me was being so honest. I felt an obligation to share my story, so I told Melanie all about that spring and summer of 1994, when out of nowhere I became depressed, and I started having symptoms of anxiety so debilitating I had to quit my job. Once I started, I was surprised how easy it was to talk about, and how intently Melanie listened to all of it. The only part I left out was how one of the greatest bands of that time and their singer who had his own struggles with depression was along with me on that crazy journey in 1994, and how their music and words helped me through it as much as therapy.

The last time we talked about singer Chris Cornell it was about his band Audioslave, who recorded three albums from 2001 to 2007. Audioslave consisted of Cornell, and the remaining members of Rage Against the Machine after singer Zack de la Rocha departed. Some music critics were divided over the quality of songs, but I thought all three Audioslave albums were great, and they provided a lot of background music for that time in my life, including Track #7 on the 50 At 50. But the band that Chris Cornell is most remembered for is Soundgarden. Named for a pipe sculpture near Magnuson Park in Seattle that whistled when the wind blew, Soundgarden was the showcase for Cornell’s songwriting and thunderous four-octave voice, and with Nirvana and Pearl Jam, helped bring grunge and alternative music to the mainstream. Musically, I don’t think you’ll find better players; I realize Pearl Jam has endured for 30 years and Nirvana is the most influential band of my generation, but I believe Soundgarden is the best band musically to emerge from that era. And all due respect to Eddie Vedder, Bono, Dave Grohl, James Hetfield, Bruce Springsteen, and the other great male singers from that era still waving the rock and roll flag, it all begins and ends with Chris Cornell; he is the greatest male singer from my generation. When Soundgarden formed in 1984, Cornell was behind the drumkit and singing lead vocals, fulfilling his musical dream of being a drummer. In 1985, the band recruited drummer Scott Sundquist to allow Cornell to move to the front of the stage; Sundquist would soon be replaced by Matt Cameron. In 1989, they released their major label debut Louder Than Love, which saw them begin to move away from their punk roots and sound more like a metal band. Original bassist Hiro Yamamoto would leave Soundgarden right before the Louder Than Love tour, and his replacement, Jason Everman, would be fired when the tour was completed. Ben Shepherd stepped in, and along with Cornell, Cameron, and original lead guitarist Kim Thayil, established the lineup that would propel them to mainstream success and worldwide fame. When they released their groundbreaking album Badmotorfinger in October 1991, it came out within weeks of Nirvana’s Nevermind and Ten by Pearl Jam. Anchored by “Outshined”, “Rusty Cage”, and “Jesus Christ Pose”, the album was nominated for Best Metal Performance at the 1992 Grammys, and along with Ten and Nevermind, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ BloodSugarSexMagik, helped bring alternative music into the mainstream that year. Soundgarden would tour with Guns N’ Roses and Skid Row in 1991 and early 1992, and tour with Lollapalooza in the summer of 1992. After the tour, they began work on what would become their most successful album, Superunknown, to be released in March of 1994. Anticipation was high for the new album; Soundgarden was poised to become one of the biggest bands in the world and fans were eager to hear the follow up to Badmotorfinger. I was definitely one of those eager fans. By now, my CD tower was filled with nothing but alternative and grunge music, and Garden City alternative radio station WDRE was tuned in my car and at my desk at work all day. When I heard about Soundgarden’s new album, I think I bought it a day or so after it came out; I probably had to wait to get paid that week, but once I had the funds, the CD was in my stereo. And it did not disappoint…15 new songs, just over 70 minutes, and each song better than the last. I listened to it whenever I could, and WDRE had the first single, “Spoonman”, on heavy rotation. Besides Soundgarden and Superunknown, I remember that winter heading into spring very vividly; work, friends, family, everything was going well. Until it wasn’t.

On March 17th that year, St Patrick’s Day, my entire office closed just after 12PM and we headed down the block to one of the Irish pubs on Stewart Avenue in Garden City. One of the owners of the small firm I was working at was part Irish, so it was pretty much mandated that we spend St Patrick’s Day drinking the day away. As you can imagine, our mostly twenty-something crew did not complain, and before we knew it, we were all knocking back pints and having a grand old time. (Side note: this is wayyyy before Uber and Lyft, kids; when I think about some of these outings, I’m horrified some of us drove afterwards. Sorry, Mom and Dad.) Anyway, I remember it was relatively early, maybe 3 or 4PM, and out of nowhere I had this feeling I never had before. I just did not want to be there, in that bar, with all those people, at that moment. It was a gloomy feeling; I did not feel right. So, in the middle of the festivities, I put my beer down and walked out onto the rainy sidewalk. It was one of those typical March days, where you know spring is around the corner, but winter is not allowing it to come, and the weather is just raw and grey. It was almost how I felt at that moment. There were other bars on the street, and as I walked past them, I looked inside and saw other St Patrick’s Day revelers, drinking and laughing, without a care in the world. And for the first time ever, I wanted no part of any of the fun; I just wanted to be home. I don’t remember much of the drive. I do remember getting home before my parents though, who had gone out for a few pints themselves, and them wondering why I was home so early. I told them I wasn’t feeling well and retired to my room for the rest of the night. The next day I returned to work and told everyone the same thing, that I just wasn’t feeling great and snuck out, but that I was feeling better. That was a lie; that gloomy feeling remained, and later that week, I had my first panic attack. Luckily, I was home; it felt like there was an elephant on my chest, and my heart was pounding so fast I thought I was having a heart attack. My fingers tingled and I thought I might throw up. After having a few more, I finally told my mother; she had also experienced anxiety and panic and I hoped she could offer some guidance. I certainly wasn’t going to tell any of my friends about this; back then I didn’t think they would understand. My mother suggested I go to the doctor, to rule out something physical, but she was pretty sure it was anxiety. So, I went to the doctor. In fact, I went to the doctor’s office so many times in the subsequent weeks that finally one of the physicians remarked, “Seems like you’re becoming a regular here.” I’m quite sure they thought I was crazy. I had chest x-rays, blood tests, and breathing tests; all normal. Then I had a GI scan; turned out all the stress had caused me to develop an ulcer. I would wake up and feel my limbs tingling, and then I would be dizzy all day. But maybe the worst part of this was that I was losing myself and who I was, trapped in my own head day after day, monitoring my body and these random symptoms, and worrying non-stop about what was wrong with me. I stopped going out with my friends. I would eventually quit my job because I couldn’t handle the stress of work and the worry I would have a panic attack while driving. There were times I would pull over to the side of the road because my heart would start beating so fast that my hands would shake. Finally, that June, I went for an echocardiogram on my heart, which of course came back negative. There was absolutely nothing wrong with me physically. When my doctor delivered the echocardiogram results, he said that maybe it was time to go see a psychiatrist. This whole time, my parents had been practically begging me to go, but I didn’t want to admit that I may have a problem with anxiety. I almost wished I had a heart arrythmia or a brain tumor so I could say “I told you so,” instead of having to go see a mental health professional. But I relented and I went to go see my mom’s psychiatrist. He prescribed me anti-anxiety medication, and something to help me sleep. I started taking it right away, and within two weeks, the results were instant: I started to feel better.

That summer dragged on; I was feeling much better and was able to function, but I was unemployed and didn’t know what to do next. I was afraid to go back to work right away, and maybe trigger an anxiety episode or bring back the symptoms. So, I read a lot, exercised, and started seeing my friends again to pass the time. Music remained a source of escape; I recorded Superunknown onto a cassette so I could listen in my car, and one song started to stand out that summer. The third track, “Fell On Black Days”, would be released as a single later that year. It’s a plodding, almost straightforward rock song, although Chris Cornell would later say it was an unlikely hit, with it’s 6/4 time signature and psychedelic guitar solo in the middle. But the lyrics were what stood out for me at the time, and they still do: “Just when every day seemed to greet me with a smile, sunspots have faded, now I’m doing time,” and later, “How would I know, that this could be my fate?” Cornell wrote the song about times in your life when things seem great, and everything is going well, until suddenly, they’re not. It was all very relatable. The song was somewhat painful, but there was a comfort there knowing someone else might have gone through something similar. And of course, years later, I along with everyone else would learn about Cornell’s struggles with anxiety, depression, and addiction. It’s all right there in those lyrics. As that summer wore on, I realized I needed to get on with life, and go back to work and get centered again. I was actually surprised at how quickly I landed that not-for-profit job after looking only a couple of weeks. Commuting to New York City was a complete change from my 60-plus minute drive to Nassau County, but as I mentioned, I needed big changes if I was going to move forward. In October, I was able to cut back on the medication I was taking and before the end of the year I was completely off them; I haven’t taken any anti-anxiety medication since. The six months I dealt with those awful anxiety symptoms became a period I tried to forget for awhile, but after that lunchtime chat with Melanie I soon realized what I went through was nothing to be ashamed of, and that millions of others were dealing with anxiety and depression, and I was lucky to have been able to get it under control so quickly. The symptoms have made appearances over the years, but now I know what they are and how to deal with them. They don’t crush me or get me down like they did back in 1994. Soundgarden, and their amazing album Superunknown, and “Fell On Black Days” will forever remind of that time, but in the best possible way. Their music helped get me through that spring and summer, and when I hear “Fell On Black Days” and the rest of the album now, it makes me think of how things turned around instead of the months I spent inside my own head. When Chris Cornell took his own life in May of 2017, I was sad, confused and devastated like the rest of his fans. For weeks I tried to make sense of it, reading whatever I could to learn more about his struggles with anxiety and depression. He gave some very candid interviews over the years and was very open about that part of his life, and his struggles with addiction as well. He was sober for years but relapsed about a year before his death. Did that contribute to him taking his own life? Was his depression too much in the end? I don’t want to believe he left his beautiful family and wonderful talent behind because he was depressed, that maybe he just had the wrong combination of substances in his body, and he had no idea what he was doing. But mostly I wish his own music and lyrics had helped him the way it’s helped me and millions of his fans get through the worst of times for the past three decades. And I wish there was more Chris Cornell music to look forward to.

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Next time…Two brothers and their band from Australia open the door to metal music.   

P.S.

 Superunknown has sold 6 million copies since its release in 1994 and is Soundgarden’s best-selling album. It’s often considered their best album as well, and I won’t argue; all of Soundgarden’s music is a cornerstone of the grunge era and I listen to their catalog often, but Superunknown is the album I return to most. They would release Down on the Upside in 1996, and while the sound is a bit of a departure from previous albums, it’s still a good listen. Soundgarden would disband in 1997, with Cornell pursuing a successful solo career, and forming Audioslave with Tom Morello and the remaining members of Rage Against the Machine. They would record three albums together before breaking up in 2007; I wrote a post about Audioslave, which you can check out here. Cornell has also contributed songs to movie soundtracks, including “Sunshower” to Great Expectations in 1998, and “You Know My Name” from the 2013 James Bond film, Casino Royale. He would go on to release five solo albums, including the posthumous No One Sings Like You Anymore, Vol.1 in 2020, a collection of unreleased cover tracks. That album has been on repeat for me the past two years, so I highly recommend it; here it is on Spotify. Drummer Matt Cameron became Pearl Jam’s permanent drummer in 1998; Kim Thayil and Ben Shepherd also contributed to various side projects until 2010, when Soundgarden announced they would reunite for a tour and new album. They would release King Animal in 2012, and contribute a new song, “Live to Rise”, to The Avengers soundtrack. They were touring and working on new material in 2017 when Cornell died that May. The legacy of Soundgarden and Chris Cornell will always remain, but it’s still sad to think what may have been and what new music they could have produced together, and what solo material Cornell could have produced as well. Subsequent generations have discovered those great Soundgarden albums through the years, but I consider myself fortunate to be around when they were brand new.

On July 20, 2020, on what would have been Chris Cornell’s 56th birthday, his daughter Lily Cornell Silver launched a website and podcast series called Mind Wide Open. Cornell Silver has dealt with mental health issues most of her life and started the podcast to have open discussions about anxiety, depression, addiction, and other issues. She’s interviewed mental health professionals, as well as musicians Duff McKagan, Ann Wilson, and Eddie Vedder, who have all faced their own issues and speak openly about how they deal with them. She also interviews her own mother, Susan Silver, Chris Cornell’s first wife, about their experiences with therapy when Lily was just seven years old, and how the parent-child relationship is affected by mental health struggles. Listening to them speak openly, especially after the losses they’ve both had, I thought was both remarkable and brave. The overall tone is one of community, and of not stigmatizing those who have struggles with mental health.  If you or someone you know deals with anxiety and depression, or if you just want to hear someone talk frankly about dealing with what life can bring, I urge you to listen; you can find the episodes on Spotify.

I also recommend Total F*cking Godhead, Chris Cornell’s biography, available at Barnes & Noble or Audible. There are great stories about Soundgarden and Audioslave, Cornell’s songwriting process, firsthand accounts of live performances, and his everyday life and relationships.

In 1999, I left the not-for-profit world and worked on Long Island again for many years, but I eventually commuted to NYC again; if you live in the tri-state area, it’s inevitable so why fight it? But those five years were invaluable to my career and growth as a person; I’m still in touch with a couple of people I worked with, but unfortunately, I haven’t spoken with Melanie in decades. I have no doubt she’s doing great wherever she is; I’m grateful for her candor and for the great conversations we used to have. Do I still have symptoms of anxiety today? Sometimes, but I know what they are when they happen, and I muscle through it; I never take that for granted because I know there are millions who need to be on medication to manage anxiety and depression, so I know I am very lucky to manage it on my own. But…I still go to therapy every week 😊

And here’s a playlist of my twenty favorite Chris Cornell songs, solo and with his bands Soundgarden and Audioslave…music can work wonders, but if you or someone you know really needs help, visit www.adaa.org.

Chris Cornell at Carnegie Hall, November 2011

Photo credit - Todd Gallose, www.gallosephotos.com

See you next time…

JS

10/16/2022