Year of Metal #068: Soundgarden - Badmotorfinger
Even in my biggest teenage grunge phase, I never quite gelled with Soundgarden. Compared with the punk edge of Nirvana or the freewheeling classic rock fun of Pearl Jam, Chris Cornell’s outfit struck me as a little sludgy, slow, and self serious. So to that end, 1991’s Badmotorfinger was a fairly pleasant surprise. For all its weight and breadth, the record is a lot more bright and sprightly than I could have expected. The subject matter can be heavy and Cornell’s ability to convey angst is without equal, but there’s a pleasing sheen and clarity that makes this easier to approach than I’d imagined (surprising given its producer, Terry Date, would work on some of the murkiest sounding records of the next decade).
My Soundgarden ignorance is such that I wasn’t even particularly familiar with opener “Rusty Cage” (alongside “Hurt”, a tune frequently miscredited to Johnny Cash). Right off the bat, Soundgarden show off their best asset - the guitar work of Kim Thayil. I love the way his guitars sound across the whole of this record, particularly his lead lines. I’d imagine he’s a disciple of Tony Iommi, because it’s a similar feel that he conveys. It doesn’t have to be complex but it has to have heft, and his single notes sound massive. Most of this tune is played at a sprint until we reach the code, an extended slowdown section.
For all that I appreciate an interest in upping the complexity of these songs, it does usher in a bugbear I have with this album - it goes on a bit. Almost all of the tunes surpass four minutes, with a couple scraping seven. They’re not dragging ideas out - they’re chucking plenty into each of the compositions - but it can become a bit wearing. It lessens the impact of the tunes that genuinely merit the near-epic treatment, like standout “Searching With My Good Eye Closed”. It’s refreshing for a change of tone and structure, swapping out chiming riffs for howling feedback and surprisingly sinister wah wah action. If this were one of the only long songs it would feel even more like the dark centrepiece of the record.
Conversely, the proliferation of lumbering numbers does make the handful of short sharp ones stand out more. “Drawing Flies” is no masterpiece but it’s a refreshing 2.5 minute job at the tail end of the record. It’s got a loose bar band energy to it, and that swinging feeling gives Soundgarden a rare opportunity to cut loose. There’s even a little horn section, buried a little in the shuffle admittedly but adding another level of incongruity to the impromptu party (though Cornell still finds room for lyrics like “Wallowing in my own obscenities / I share a cigarette with negativity”.)
I think this record’s certainly worthy of its beloved status among the grunge fraternity, and they bridge the gap between reflective emotional music and jock rock as well as any of the ‘90s bands (though “Outshined” is so big and stompy at the start that it could easily serve as a wrestler’s entrance music). My suspicions were correct that their brand isn’t exactly my cup of tea, but they’ve certainly got more strings to their bow than I had unfairly assumed.
