Soundgarden
4th of July & Half

July 4th is American Independence Day; a national holiday celebrated in every conceivable way: fairs, rides, sizzling barbecues, baseball games, shouting children, lights, parades, and fireworks. All very nice, of course. But try watching a fireworks display under LSD: it's an absolutely terrifying experience. This is what the Soundgarden manages to convey magnificently in "4th of July," a sort of post-nuclear catastrophe anthem to echo from cave to cave.

Let's start by saying that this is the darkest song the band has ever penned: forget Dark Seattle, forget "I Awake," "No Wrong No Right," we're on a completely different level. Sludge-like tar flows repeat darkly, terribly, inexorably, with the guitar's little scream twenty seconds in that foreshadows ominously what awaits us. Shower in the dark day, clean sparks driving down... Cornell's verses, inspired by Sylvia Plath, capture the effects a holiday can have on an acid trip, turning a joyous occasion into a nightmare worthy of the end of the world. It was all inspired by an experience Chris actually had: "Once I was on acid, and there were voices three meters behind my head. All the time I was walking, they were talking behind me. [...] It was kind of like a dream, even though sometimes I'd wake up, look, focus and realize there was no one there. I'd say, 'Oh fuck, I hear voices.' Basically, '4th of July' is about that day."

Thought I was the only one, but that was just a lie...

After the initial prologue, Cornell's extraordinary voice splits, along two lines an octave apart, to give the song an even more unsettling and frightening effect. Fire, flickering lights, burned people, drowned baptized: more than the national holiday, it seems like Judgment Day has arrived.

Down in the hole, Jesus tries to crack a smile, beneath another shovel load...

And the riff that starts after the second chorus. That damned riff. One of the rawest, most raucous, and fiercest in the history of Rock. A cruel slashing, a tongue of madness, a slimy ice coating that sticks to our poor defenseless body. A spine-chilling Thayil. Cornell's voice joins again for a moment before splitting once more for the incredible finale. Light a roman candle and hold it in your hand... the incredible, shattering finale of a no-return plunge into the dark abyss of panic and paranoia.

Cause I heard it in the wind, and I saw it in the sky and I thought it was the end, I thought it was the 4th of July

The implosion of everything...

1, 2, 3, 4

I can't talk about "4th of July" without mentioning its follow-up, "Half": the only Soundgarden song, I believe, where the late Chris does not appear in any capacity; from four they go to three. We want to experiment, let's include this too. A clearly oriental sound merges with the prodigious rhythm section of the phenomenal Matt Cameron, who here returns to perform somersaults. We may not be at "Head Down" levels, but it's always a wonderful hearing. Half a chance, half a chance... Bassist Ben Shepherd recites a few cryptic and dejected verses with a voice that could truly be that of the cover elf, before going to drift in a lovely lake of psychedelic embroidery.

We still have half a chance. I don't know why, but this phrase gives me chills, but no longer out of fear. It seems like pure poetry to me, something that starts from Grunge and ends up transcending it... like this entire legendary album.

And happy 4th of July to everyone.