When I Thought I Could Change the World
by T. Perry Bowers
The passing of Chris Cornell has affected me deeply. When Prince died it hurt. I loved Prince and there was a time in my life when I listened to nobody else. He was an amazing representative of my great city of Minneapolis. But, when Chris died, something bigger moved in me. Chris was a white boy in a four-piece rock band with distorted guitars. He ran his band like I ran bands when I was in my twenties. I worked hard at it, every day. Chris was a singer, musician and performer. He was also an activist.
Chris wasn’t your typical rocker activist. He was an activist through his music. Songs like Hands all Over, Jesus Christ Pose, Blow Up the Outside World – they were a movement in and of themselves. When Soundgarden released their albums, I was in the store buying them. Not solely because of the music, but because of what they represented to me. They told me a white boy could change the world with his voice. Their messages ran through my heart as their guitars ripped at my eardrums. They pummeled my spirit and made it new again. There was hope for people that saw the world like I did. Mother Earth is a sacred place. The entities that were harming her needed to be screamed at. They needed to be brought to their knees with the power of beauty. In my world the tone of their guitars was devastating the status quo.
After listening to a masterpiece like Black Hole Sun, I’d be thoroughly humbled and I would go to my eight-track recorder to try to change the world. I wrote and sang lines that attempted to fracture the matrix of society. When I sang those songs I believed that someday people would listen and see the world through my eyes. They would see the earth breathing. They would see the corruption. They would love one another, and be strong and tough. They would see the beauty in themselves and never apologize. Human beings would revel in their sacredness!
The nineties, the era of grunge, was the second wave of blistering hope. The sixties was the first. Zeppelin, Floyd, the Beatles, they ushered in a new vision of connectedness. The Pumpkins, Pearl Jam and Soundgarden rode on the wave behind them. Some people looked at Kurt Cobain and Layne Staley and saw despondence. They were right. That despondence eventually got the better of them. But, the bands that survived the nineties went on to another level. Their despondence turned into hope and they carried on making music.
Something else happened at the same time. The grunge bands got rich and became part of the machine. They realized there was nothing else they could do but be a part of the system. Maybe it’s because they sobered up. Maybe it’s because they had families and they became adults. They revised their goals and settled down. I did the same thing. None of my bands ever “made it,” but I still feel a kinship to the bands that did. I was doing the same thing, just in front of a lot less people. Now, I have a family and I realize that changing the world is not as easy as just singing in a rock band. It’s about being a good person – and that’s a whole lot harder. It’s about spending time with your family and appreciating the beauty of this planet we live on.
Now my son lets me hear the music of his generation (he’s twenty two). I don’t hear the same passion. I’m sure there are bands out there that have sacrificed everything for their message. Maybe someday the machine will put them in our ears again. Or maybe the machine will crumble. For now, I’m just waiting. Waiting for the next crop of bands that believe they can change the world.
So, thank you Chris Cornell. Thanks to you and the wave of bands in the nineties that the establishment labeled “grunge.” I feel so blessed to have been a part of that movement.
