Chris Cornell’s brother Peter has posted the following:
I played in a band in the 90’s. Being a band from Seattle in those days was like riding a bull. You flew out of the shoot and held on for dear life. Although I didn’t ride that beast to the big time, it was like being a part of and living inside of a legend wrapped in a miracle strapped to fireworks.
My Brother and Susan were at the epicenter and I was a privileged participant/spectator/pupil/Brother and fan. I got to be on the inside. I cherish the life I have now and never could of imagined where my crooked path would deliver me, but I will say living in that crazy explosion of Seattle in the 90’s will always remain a beloved, whirlwind, tornado, rocket ride, breathtaking hallucination on the landscape of my memory bank. I loved it! I played a lot of shows and I met a lot of amazing, beautiful, passionate, loyal music lovers who supported our nonsense like we were rock stars.
With the onset of social media, I have the good fortune to communicate with so many of those wonderful souls I connected to in that era. I also had the privilege and honor of sharing stages with so many gifted artists who DID rise above the club scene and reach the stardom they so richly deserved. We used to play a regular circuit up and down the west coast from L.A. to Vancouver BC. The LaLuna in Portland was a stop on our calendar many times.
I remember one night in ’93 hanging out backstage in hospitality and milling about with the other band members who would play that night. That night we were opening for two bands with major label debuts. Neither band I ever heard of but that didn’t mean much. I was an arrogant musician from Seattle related to the Seattle Rock Royals. If you weren’t from the Emerald City you were already in second place.
The headliner that night wasn’t from the Emerald City. They were from Emerald Isle and they were humble and friendly and hung out and talked story with us. I chatted with their singer over tea and we laughed at our bandmates. That was it but it’s one of those little nuggets that make up my mental scrap book. The Cranberries. Goodnight Dolores. Brother will meet you at the Pearly Gates.
