Of all the grunge bands that went multi-platinum in the 1990s, Soundgarden pulled it off with the least amount of drama or fall-out. No antagonistic relationships with the media, no publicized addictions, no scandals, no suicides. Their legacy is instead one of hard work, perseverance, and pragmatism; after all, Soundgarden had already embraced the benefits of signing to a major label several years before Kurt Cobain had developed a self-loathing attitude about doing the same. Even the band's dissolution in 1997 was less of a bombshell than a simple product of boredom with the biz.
So it follows that the band's recent reunion has a par-for-the-course, procedural air: Soundgarden are back together and making new music because, well, that's what dormant alt-rock institutions are supposed to do now, right? Even the band's would-be comeback coronation, King Animal's "Been Away Too Long", is less a statement of celebration than obligation, the titular declaration undercut by Chris Cornell's admission that "I never really wanted to stay."
Still, the return of Soundgarden is something to get excited about, if only because it momentarily delays the release of another Cornell solo album. And fortunately, the singer's interim attempts to reinvent himself -- as a Jeff Buckley-esque crooner, Timbaland's favorite mobile-phone pitchman, and wet-blanket warbler for a squandered hard-rock supergroup opportunity-- have little bearing on the outcome of King Animal. However, your enthusiasm for this album will ultimately depend on how often you return to 1996's Down on the Upside, an album that scored the band another platinum disc to hang in their bathrooms but felt like a holding pattern after the impressive four-album progression charted from 1988's sludgy Ultramega OK to 1994's steely Superunknown.
On the latter album, Soundgarden got their formula of muscular hard rock, brooding, psychedelic power ballads, and acoustic mysticism down to an exact science, and Upside simply repeated those same moves to slightly diminished returns. (Consider how the surreal, bad-trip Beatleisms of Superunknown's "Black Hole Sun" got processed into the melodramatic and obvious "Blow Up the Outside World.") Now, imagine that same formula rehashed and diluted even more and you've got King Animal.
The result is all the more disappointing given a strong start that showcases the band's regained command of rhythm and ballast. "Non-State Actor" grooves menacingly like a funkier "Spoonman", while the album's hands-down standout, "By Crooked Steps", reminds us that Soundgarden is at its best when making Ben Shepherd and Matt Cameron's stuttering time signatures, Kim Thayil's contorted riffage, and Cornell's glass-shattering wail sound like perfectly natural FM-radio fodder.
From there, the band simmer down into moodier, mid-tempo realms-- minus the skyscraping, MTV-baiting hooks that once allowed them to mellow out without boring the mosh pit. And after a while, you get the sense that Soundgarden are checking boxes off on a list: "Bones of Birds" is the "Black Hole"-sized psychedelic centerpiece that boasts an affective, downcast riff from Thayil, but is bogged down by an undercooked, overwrought chorus. And there are two attempts -- back-to-back, no less -- at a congenial, acoustic-strummed exercise a la "Burden in My Hand" ("Black Saturday" and "Halfway There"), but without the anthemic refrains to put them over the top. Likewise, the rare excursions outside their classic-rockin' comfort zone lead to dead ends, as when the dubby outro on "Worse Dreams" shoots for trippy, free-form chaos but winds up an aimless, uneventful mess. The autopilot nature of King Animal's second half is perfectly summed up by the repeated chain-gang chant of the closing "Rowing": "Don't know where I'm going/ I just keep on rowing/ I just keep on pulling/ Gotta row."
King Animal makes for a respectable display of Soundgarden's proficiency, but lacks their once-imposing majesty. Listening to the record, it's easy to forget what a disorienting, brutalizing effect songs like "Rusty Cage" and "Jesus Christ Pose" had on the early-90s rock landscape, even after Nirvana had nudged post-hardcore-schooled noise to the right of the dial. And in the decade and a half that Soundgarden were out of commission, there have been many art-metal aspirants-- from the Deftones and Queens of the Stone Age to Mastodon and Boris-- who've aimed for a similar balance of brains and brawn. The best hope for King Animal was that Soundgarden would be inspired enough by their spiritual successors to want to outdo them, and set a new benchmark for ambitious aggression. Instead, the group's first album since 1996 just sounds like the one they would've churned out in 1998.
