Soundgarden
King Animal

The Soundgarden have come together again after a long (too long) time; Kim Tahyl and Ben Sheperd had all but disappeared, Chris Cornell had sadly turned to pop, and the only one who kept going strong was Matt Cameron, behind the drums of Pearl Jam.

I certainly was not expecting, with these premises, a masterpiece album, but simply a transitional work, a return to making music together, and thus, ultimately, an honest and robust hard rock album, expressed in the typical forms of Soundgarden. I must honestly say, after repeated listens, that the goal fundamentally failed; aside from a few episodes, it's an album that instead of "capturing" listen after listen, "lets go", bores, and in some instances irritates.

The first and most glaring flaw I would say is absolutely in the sound: where is Kim's guitar? Listening to a Soundgarden album where the guitar is so in the background, where a dark, redundant, and ultimately muddled bass sound prevails was the first bitter surprise; the result is a sound that struggles, muddy in the quicksand, it lacks brilliance, it doesn't bite back. The good drum work by Matt (the only one who I believe is truly in shape in this album) is completely spoiled by a recording that, if intentional, is at the very least absurd. The first tracks go by without infamy or praise: "Been Away Too Long" isn't even that bad: though not shining for originality, it would have a great impact if it weren't completely missing the push of the guitar, and for a rather anonymous chorus. The same pattern repeats, emphasized, on "Non State Actor," which would have momentum if only there were a guitar worthy of the name, and then crumbles miserably on a disarmingly banal chorus. Even Cornell's voice, which wants to be angry, barks a lot but bites little.

Alas, the descent is vertical with "By Crooked Steps," which stands out for a disarming anonymity. At this point, fortunately, the more positive notes arrive, with a trio of decidedly well-executed songs: "A Thousand Day Before," acidic and oriental, "Blood On The Valley Floor," my favorite of the album, with its slow and epic march and a vocal line that finally calls to mind the dear old Soundgarden, and "Bones Of Birds" that seems to have come straight from the recordings of "Euphoria Morning" (and that's quite something!). Usual regret for the sounds used: with a much brighter production these tracks would have had a completely different outcome.

Alas, from this point, the album starts to descend the slope again, and it does so with a series of songs that more than Soundgarden tracks seem like leftovers from Cornell's solo albums used to fill time: "Taree," anonymous and tasteless, "Attribution," where Soundgarden seem like an old man showing muscles only to reveal flabby flesh and when grimacing spits out dentures (the choruses under the refrain are one of the band from Seattle’s lowest points), a "Black Saturday" that I practically forget by the end of each listen.
By this point, I start to nervously check the clock and wonder how much longer till the end of the album, which continues to flow honestly more and more as (a poor) Cornell solo album rather than a Soundgarden product; just enough time to note a "Worse Dreams" that strangely and insistently reminds me of the riff of Rush's "Caravan," and a final "Rowing" with neither head nor tail. In the end, apart from an interlude of songs that made me hope, I am left not so much with the impression of a bad album but rather one that is pitifully boring.

And to say this of a Soundgarden album is indeed very sad.