He Was the Highway

Remembering Chris Cornell today. Like a reverb.. I remember walking into the foyer of the North Star hotel for a festival rehearsal back in 2017, and caught a conversation before I even heard the words. Suddenly, I was thrown back to the front row at Marlay Park in 2009 - reverb all around me, recalling a man humbly standing with his acoustic guitar, delivering a pure vocal transmission.

He had no interest in distraction. He openly spoke of how fake he found the quick doses of dopamine from fans, preferring undiluted raw authenticity.

(Notice not a single mobile phone in the crowd in the video too… just pure music and connection).

Having experienced intense pain growing up, followed by tumbling waves of anxiety and severe depression, Cornell was completely untouched by superficial popularity. He blazed his own path - he was the highway.

To me, he always sang from a well of raw, anxious vulnerability, making the unhealed and the bruised compelling because he lived unshielded, loving loud from a heart wandering somewhere in Orion. A reverb in music is a ripple in sound. It is the sensation of a lingering, shimmering, echoing presence that remains after a voice falls silent. Even beyond the veil, we hear the undeniable reverb of his voice semi-consciously vibrating raw through the air today heralding the dusk.

from the top…

F C G Am
Pearls and swine bereft of me

F C G Am
long and weary my road has been

F C Am
I was lost in the cities

G C Am
alone in the hills

F C Am G C Am
no sorrow or pity for leaving I feel

[Chorus]

C G Dm
I am not your rolling wheels

Am
I am the highway

C G Dm
I am not your carpet ride

Am
I am the sky

C G Dm
I am not your blowing wind

Am
I am the lightning

C G Dm
I am not your autumn moon, I am

E E
The night, the night

.

Spontanious note at 17:24 on 18 May 2026, No AI. Just an unedited stream hearing the reverb from beyond the veil. Thank you for listening.