Retrospectives

As I ponder the timing of the release of Hole's Live Through This, it seems like a cosmic joke. On April 8th, 1994, the Earth stood still as the news of Kurt Cobain's untimely passing rippled through the Universe. It was an event that rerouted the course of music history, causing a media firestorm that still burns today. Released just four days later, on April 12th, 1994, Live Through This seemed like a direct response to the occurrence, however, it wasn't—contrary to popular belief.

Live Through This is stated to be derived from a line in Gone With the Wind. Standing on top of the ashen wreckage of her plantation, Scarlett O'Hara proclaims, "As God is my witness they're not going to lick me. I'm going to live through this and when it's all over, I'll never be hungry again. No, nor any of my folk. If I have to lie, steal, cheat, or kill. As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again."

O'Hara's words are incendiary—lit by a match of spite. She decrees that she will survive regardless of the obstacles, and thrive afterward by any means necessary. It's a pretty fitting declaration for frontwoman Courtney Love, who clawed her way from tumultuous beginnings to rock superstardom. Whether you love her or hate her, there's no denying Love carved a space for herself in pop culture.

No matter its origin or surrounding lore, Hole's most notable album has become synonymous with powering through the chaos of life. For 30 years, Live Through This has been the epitome of feminine rage and despair. Constantly pilloried, yet constantly emulated, Love was appointed patron saint of pissed-off women worldwide, as she was a mouthpiece for those who often couldn't outwardly express their own anguish—myself included.

Live Through This helped fuel my own "as God as my witness" moment, becoming a more potent influence in my life than ever before. The words always resonated with me but mutated into an anthem of survival and defiance as I embraced the rage that fueled my will to live again. Sometimes spite is that one little push that helps you move forward.

At its release, Hole's members included Love, guitarist Eric Erlandson (who also often co-wrote), drummer Patty Schemel, and bassist Kristen Pfaff. Pfaff brought the professionalism needed to craft Hole's new sound. While both albums are often considered part of the "grunge" movement, Hole's debut Pretty on the Inside was an audio diary inspired by noise and punk, and Live Through This is slightly more polished for mainstream appeal, packaging Love's frenzied wails and the band's feverish instrumentals with beauty pageant, doll-inspired, and pastel candy aesthetics. ​

Semi-autobiographical, Live Through This was mined from Love's experiences with toxic relationships, being vilified by the press, her launch into motherhood, and the insecurities of being with a partner who was a larger-than-life figure. At the time, Love created songs about subjects largely glossed over by her male contemporaries. On the album, Love's genius was able to shine on its own accord, forever branding herself as "The Girl With the Most Cake."

Live Through This opens with the soul-splitting "Violet," an ode to a tumultuous relationship and sexual exploitation. The twenties-inspired video follows the same themes, juxtaposing strippers with young ballerinas, who are both leered at by suited men. "Violet" is a lightning strike as Love screams "Go on, take everything, I want you to.." inviting listeners into her pain. To this day, as I listen to "Violet," I feel a curdle in my stomach when I hear "Might last a day... Mine is forever..." To me, it's a song that captures the emotional scars left behind by a bitter breakup.

"I'm Miss World, watch me break and watch me burn..." The album doesn't ease up as it moves forward to "Miss World," which hides dark lyrics under an upbeat melody and the glitz and glam of pageantry. The song laments trying to uphold beauty standards and engaging in self-destruction. On-screen, Love stands in front of a glittering sign, "Cleanliness is close to Godliness," hinting at the pursuit of perfection.

As Live Through This continues, Love's body is a battleground—whether it be due to motherhood, substance abuse, societal expectations, or sex. "Plump" details Love's experience with pregnancy and post-partum depression. Love's role as a mother is also referenced in "Softer, Softest," and "I Think That I Would Die." The biting "Asking For It" is a song that deals with rape, both in the physical and metaphorical sense.

The most successful song on Live Through This is "Doll Parts," in which Love takes on a more melancholy tone. Known for her biting lyrics and rage, "Doll Parts" takes time to despair over the insecurity of being with someone (that someone being Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain) that the whole world seemingly desires. Love takes a step down and allows herself to exhibit a longing that isn't quite present in earlier work.

Vulnerable and sharp, Love spills her guts between the notes of Live Through This. For a little while, one of the most famous rock stars ever comes down to Earth. The sad reality of Live Through This is that as women, most of us share the same experiences. Whether it be on a small scare or a large scale, you're under a microscope.

With her private life on display and ripped apart, it's still baffling that Love and Hole were able to power through motherhood, fame, and tragedy to create something that has withstood the test of time. Despite the obstacles thrown Love's way, Live Through This showcases resilience. It says, "I'm still here and I'm not fuckin' leaving."

Because of this album, so many others have made the same declaration.

March 8th, 2024 marks the 30th anniversary of what's considered Soundgarden's breakout album, Superunknown. For me, Superunknown was one of the gateway albums to my love affair with rock music. I don't remember exactly how I found it, but I recall seeing "Black Hole Sun" in my YouTube recommendations back in 2009 (?) as a junior in high school. Although I don't remember the exact year, I do know that I had some downtime during my Drafting class and was dilly-dallying online, watching '90s music videos. At that point, I'd found a lot of music through my mother (a true Gen X-er), but I can say that Soundgarden was one of my first independent discoveries.

Once I saw the brightly saturated colors of the suburban cult and the deliciously demonic visuals that accompanied Chris Cornell's low, slow snake charmer voice, I was hooked. "Black Hole Sun" is something I can only describe as the audio equivalent of taking mushrooms on a 110-degree summer day in Southern California... or maybe the sound conjuring of Salvador Dali's The Persistence of Memory. It's a trip that starts blissful and bright then descends into an apocalyptic frenzy where you can't help but wonder if the end is nigh.

15 years have gone by, and it's been a very long time since I've listened to Superunknown all the way through. When it comes to Soundgarden, Screaming Life is my go-to. However, I recently decided to revisit the well-known Superunknown once more.

Following the massive 1992 Lollapalooza tour supporting the release of Badmotorfinger, Soundgarden started crafting their album in the hopes of exploring new sounds. Arduously recorded in 1993 at Seattle's Bad Animal Studios with the steadfast guidance of Michael Beinhorn, Soundgarden drifted away from its early punk influences and created a 70-minute behemoth that's powered by complex arrangements and the combined lyrical and composing prowess of bandmates Chris Cornell, Kim Thayil, Ben Shepherd, and Matt Cameron.

Marking its fourth studio album with Superunknown, Soundgarden pushed the boundaries of its musical horizons. Already a band for nearly a decade during the album's release, Soundgarden's ascent to rock superstardom was a steadier one than that of their hometown peers. Following the heavy and raging in-your-face tunes of Badmotorfinger, Superunknown emerged more polished and tinged with despair and psychedelia—which was a winning recipe that led to the band's most recognized work. Superunknown was also more radio-friendly and "palatable" for heavy MTV airplay than the band's earlier works, which were considered to be metal. With the increase in exposure, Soundgarden's journey on the snake mutated into an anaconda that wound itself tightly around the music industry and fans around the world. After 30 years, we're all still feeling the squeeze.

Superunknown opens with the punchy "Let Me Drown," which continues the theme of Soundgarden's references to religious visuals, ones of which were previously peppered throughout the Badmotorfinger era (most notably with "Jesus Christ Pose"). Fueled with frustration, "Stretch the bones over my skin... Stretch the skin over my hand... I'm going to the Holy Land" is a hell of an intro.

Following "Let Me Drown," Superunknown veers into a moody epic that experiments with hard riffs, powerhouse percussion, and Cornell's hypnotic vocals. Cornell, Thayil, Cameron, and Shepherd all make major contributions, switching on songwriting (and sometimes singing) duties and utilizing other instruments such as keyboards, viola, and even spoons.

The first song leads into the anthemic "My Wave," before going to the melancholy "Fell on Black Days," which slowly ponders the impending doom that exists in the universe.

As the album trudges on, Soundgarden's lyrics point to disillusionment with society through songs like "Mailman" and "Head Down." The title track, "Superunknown," is a bit more optimistic and esoteric in its urge to listeners to change their perspectives on life. A lot of our existence is indeed unknown, but it's up to us to make the most of it... At least that was my interpretation of the lyrics. "If it isn't making sense... Yea, it doesn't make it lies..."

Near the halfway point, Shepherd's catchy "Head Down" transitions into the trippy wasteland of "Black Hole Sun." After that, Superunknown rocks on with "Spoonman," "Limo Wreck," "The Day I Tried to Live," and "Fresh Tendrils." Throughout the album, Soundgarden presents songs that tackle depression, frustration, isolation, and conformity. With many nods to water in the lyrics, the music flows during the 15 tracks, sometimes like a gentle stream, and others like an angry waterfall.

My favorite song on the entire album is "4th of July," which is a sludgy tune that signals the coming rapture alluded to in the album's earlier songs. "4th of July" is dark and sinister, painting a picture of a Biblical occurrence akin to that in the book of Revelation. As I mentioned "Black Hole Sun" is a mushroom trip, "4th of July" is a trip gone completely awry. Luckily the dreary song is followed by the mellow Indian-inspired "Half," (another Shepherd-dominant track) which marks a comedown back to reality.

Superunknown closes with the contemplative "Like Suicide," which drew inspiration from Cornell's experience of finding a dying robin by his window. The song eulogizes the robin, which can be seen as a metaphor for how we all fly through life and tend to crash into things, and for the fleeting nature of life and how we all continue to soar... until that time comes to an end. Superunknown then fades, leaving listeners with something to ponder.

One of the defining albums of the '90s, Superunknown has withstood time and continues to resonate with younger music fans like myself, as well as those who were with Soundgarden in its Seattle infancy. Although Soundgarden wasn't seeking mainstream success, the band stayed true to themselves and put craft above all else, which led to an album that changed music history.