Carry On (CD - 2007)

Eight years after his first solo outing, EUPHORIA MORNING, former Soundgarden frontman Chris Cornell finally released a follow-up, CARRY ON. In the interim, however, Cornell was far from idle--the powerhouse vocalist essentially took the place of Zack de la Rocha in Rage Against the Machine, and the resulting ensemble, Audioslave, issued three highly successful albums. Recorded while Cornell was still a member of Audioslave, CARRY ON found the performer back on his own by the time of its June 2007 release.

Given that Cornell was the primary songwriter in Audioslave, CARRY ON isn't a radical departure from that group's guitar-heavy drama, as evinced on the fierce opener, "No Such Thing." However, Cornell does return to EUPHORIA MORNING's eclectic territory somewhat, particularly on the bluesy "She'll Never Be Your Man," which showcases the plaintive side of his expressive voice. Produced by Steve Lillywhite and featuring a cadre of largely under-the-radar musicians, CARRY ON seemingly allows Cornell to reclaim his artistic identity, a point hit home by the album's dramatic closing number, "You Know My Name," which served as the theme to the lauded '06 James Bond film CASINO ROYALE.

Chris Cornell's first solo album, Euphoria Morning, was released just after Cornell had shaken the shackles of Soundgarden and he was making a definitive break from their heavy heavy sound by indulging in bucolic singer/songwriter clichés. It went nowhere commercially but led him toward Audioslave, where he spent three albums pushing and pulling against the core of Rage Against the Machine. If Euphoria Morning was breaking from the past, Carry On is about reconnecting to it, returning Cornell to music that feels more comfortable than Tom Morello's staccato riffs. Right from the beginning, he pushes out arena-filling riffs that feel more at home on a Soundgarden record -- not as heavy and certainly not as tortured, but something more mature and more recognizably of Cornell's lineage than much of Audioslave. It sets the stage for a record that's seems like a rare hard rock maturation, but soon Cornell returns to the singer/songwriter mannerisms that seemed appropriate on his first debut -- he was stretching his legs after Soundgarden, after all -- but now feel anemic, particularly because they're executed with quivering sensitivity and a near belligerent tunelessness. These are the songs that feel forced -- as affected as his coffeehouse cover of "Billie Jean" -- but when Cornell loosens up and gives the music backbone (and a backbeat), he not only comes alive as a performer but the writing is sharper and better, pointing a way toward an artistic middle age that's richer and more compelling than what's heard on the bulk of Carry On. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine minimize