Gainesville has a famous bar called The Salty Dog Saloon, across the street from the University of Florida and just two blocks away from Ben Hill Griffin Stadium. Back in the 1990s, I spent many an evening at The Salty Dog, shooting pool, drinking beer, and inhaling so much second-hand smoke that, as I soon discovered, I could smoke an entire cigarette without coughing, even though I had never officially taken up the habit.
The Salty Dog also had a great jukebox (maybe it still does). And, this being the height of the grunge era, my friends and I played a lot of Nirvana, Soundgarden, and Pearl Jam. Somehow, a joke started among us that the next Godzilla movie should be set in Seattle, where the great kaiju would be battled (and, no doubt, defeated) by the likes of Chris Cornell, Eddie Vedder, and Kurt Cobain.
It was a dumb joke, but it struck a chord. These guys were the superheroes of rock, cultural warriors that always seemed brilliant, dedicated, and brave. So, in 1993, when two of three, Vedder and Cornell, teamed up to form a super-group called Temple of the Dog, we should have been ecstatic. It was like Batman and Superman joining forces to fight evil (if not Godzilla).
In fact, the band—which was formed by Cornell as a kind of tribute to his late friend and lead singer of Mother Love Bone, Andrew Wood—made very little impact on us. Except for one song: “Hunger Strike.” For a few weeks, it was the practically the only thing on the radio (yes, we still listened to radio in those days). An unlikely duet between Cornell and Vedder, it shows off the vocal strengths of both men, whose voices complement each other in kind of harmonic unity not often heard in alt-rock (and especially not in grunge). I love how Cornell’s magnificent tenor soars high above Vedder’s mournful baritone, which seems to anchor it.
Somehow, through the alchemy of art, the song becomes less of a dirge than a jubilant cry of defiance.
Rock on…
Ash Clifton, Writer 