Chris Cornell Fan Page: Reviews

Having made a name for himself as a grunge/rock star with the likes of Soundgarden, this album has shocked a lot of Chris's diehard fans because it's a joint venture with top R&B producer Timbaland and sees him combining great rock vocals with a mixture of rock and R&B arrangements.

Conceived as a continuous piece with each track blending into the nest, it's quite simply superb. Occasionally reminiscent of Gnarls Barkely, with stunning songs such as these this is one of the best albums you'll hear all year.

This is the singer's third solo outing and it's a brave one. The grunge god has teamed up with top R&B producer Timbaland. True, this is not hardcore rock, but what you do get really grows on you. Best tracks are the Eastern-inspired Take Me Alive and Enemy.

See the guitar that Chris Cornell is wielding on the front of his new album? If you flip over to the back cover, you’ll see that the guitar has been destroyed. This is probably intended to represent his decision to leave hard rock behind in favor of a new Timbaland-produced sound. It’s just as possible, however, that the instrument was damaged as Cornell tried to protect himself from the angry hordes of Soundgarden and Audioslave fans who were trying to beat the living shit out of him.

Scream is the sort of musical reinvention that causes an artist’s fans’ jaws to drop to record depths, only rising again in order to allow them to start screaming, "Sellout!" But it’s an epithet that emerges only because they can’t rationalize any other excuse for their hero to have changed their sound so dramatically. In truth, very few chart conquerors have begun their to-do lists by writing, "Step #1: Alienate all existing fans of my previous work." As such, your best bet is to approach the record with the presumption that Cornell just said, "Fuck it, it’s time for a fresh start."

It’s no wonder that many critics are shredding the record to within an inch of its life, however, since one can scarcely imagine a listener already familiar with Cornell who would put on Scream and, with a single spin, say, "Okay, you’ve sold me." Hearing his voice within such a different musical context definitely takes some getting used to. In the album opener, "Part of Me," he sounds as though he’s putting in a bid to be declared the Justin Timberlake of the grunge generation; it’s such an absurd concept that you may actually burst into laughter when you hear him sing, "She was so friendly / I had one too many / And I let her tempt me / She was rubbing up against me."

But damned if the music doesn’t sound great. Of the emphasis tracks, the title song has a dark sparkle to it, "Ground Zero" manages to be bluesy and danceable at the same time, and "Long Gone" has some surprisingly soulful moments. There are some phenomenal choruses here, too, including "Never Far Away" and "Enemy," both of which would readily fill most dance floors with little remixing required. Timbaland’s production isn’t always as successful as the resulting sales of the albums bearing his credit would have you believe, but in this case, he’s very much at the top of his game, helping Cornell completely reinvent himself and sound great doing it. (Still, you do have to wonder if there’s a single moment on the record that hasn’t been tweaked in some fashion; it might not be sterile, but it certainly isn’t what you’d call organic, either.)

If you manage to survive the Scream experience all the way to the bitter end but still remain a nonbeliever, have faith: although the last listed song ("Watch Out") technically ends at the 4:00 mark, it’s followed by a minute of silence which leads into "Two Drink Minimum," a bluesy rock song where Cornell moans that he’s "no more than two drinks away from crying." Is it an admission of the tears he expects to shed when the album inevitably proves to be a commercial failure – because, really, creative success or not, who the hell is gonna buy this thing? – or is it simply intended as a last-second musical assurance that the album to which you’ve just been listening isn’t a permanent change in sound?

Whichever proves to be the case, one thing’s for certain: Scream is a record that is destined to develop a rabid cult following. Obviously, their numbers won’t come anywhere near reaching the amount of people who’ll loathe it with every fiber of their being, but if you can get behind Cornell’s change in musical direction and aren’t scared of hearing his voice surrounded by an almost entirely inorganic sound, then you’ll quickly find that it’s a very easy album to embrace. - Will Harris

Chris Cornell

Scream

Keine Frage, dieses Album ist ein Politikum. Jeder Musikliebhaber, der hier Stellungnahme bezieht, positioniert sich zwangsläufig zwischen verhärteten Fronten. Geniestreich oder Selbstdemontage? Verrat oder Neuerfindung? Fakt ist, dass sich seit der Mitte des neuen Jahrzehnts ein infektiöser Elektrohype-Virus konsequent in der Rock/Alternative Szene ausbreitet. Die avantgardistische Bewegung war anfänglich noch ein spannendes Spielfeld für Bands wie die Infadels (auch wenn diese sicher nicht die Vorläufer des Genres waren), die ihre treibenden Beats elektronisch unterfütterten und somit eine neue massentaugliche Spielform etablierten. Die Grenzen verschwammen. Wie es dann meistens passiert, schwappte die Welle in den Mainstream über und flutet jetzt unseren Musikmarkt. Die Klang gewordene Pervertierung in Liedform Allein, Allein sowie die gesamte darauf zurückzuführende Band müssen wir jetzt ebenso ausbaden wie Auswüchse à la Human, etc.

Und jetzt kommt Scream. Chris Cornells Album ist der Schlusspunkt in Form eines dicken Ausrufezeichens. Eine Antwort auf alle offenen Fragen und der letzte große Knall. Es greift noch mal alles auf was einst möglich schien und perfektioniert es. Nach Scream wird sich die Indieszene ein neues Spielfeld suchen müssen. Elektro - heute vollendet im Pop, morgen tot. Sicherlich, von Elektro an sich zu sprechen wird dem Album nicht gerecht. Und ganz klar, der Sound aus Timbalands großer Beatwiederverwertungsschale ist auch nicht immer so ganz exklusiv. Dennoch war es eine nicht zu unterschätzende Milleniumsleistung von dem großen Produzenten, die Popmusik mit ihrem natürlichen Umfeld zu fusionieren und sie somit Zukunftstauglich zu machen. RnB, Hip Hop und jetzt sogar Rock werden unter einen Beat gepresst und gnadenlos annektiert. Nur dem Rock, dem tut's langfristig nicht gut. Das Cornell auf seinem Cover gerade eine Gitarre zerschlägt ist dabei genauso bezeichnend wie Justin Timberlake der eine Discokugel zertritt. Die Marschrichtung ist völlig klar: raus aus den Genregrenzen. Die tradierten Hörgewohnheiten in Frage stellen und neu überdenken. Das klingt jetzt allerdings revolutionärer als es ist. Denn es wird nicht lange dauern bis sich der Rock wieder auf die Gitarre besinnt. Wie eingangs erwähnt ist nach Scream nicht mehr viel möglich.

Das Album ist eine klare Ansage, ein einheitlicher Guss. Mögen vereinzelte Rezensenten schimpfen wie sie wollen, handwerklich ist es ein Geniestreich. Der Titeltrack greift sofort, pointiert gleitet der Beat in ein atmosphärisches Arrangement. Ab und an werden zwar schon mal Gitarrenarrangements zu Riffsamples degradiert, aber was solls? Auch wenn der Opener Part Of Me mit seinen schwachen Lyrics etwas altbacken herkommt, spätestens bei Time verdichtet sich das Album zu einer atmosphärisch brillianten Gesamtkomposition. Zu Höchstform läuft das Album bei beatbetonten Clubreissern wie Enemy an. Scream lässt keine Fragen mehr offen. Dieses Album ist purer Sex. Es ist Bewegung und ganz großer Moment. Scream ist der große, laute Knall, der die Musiklandschaft vor neue Herausforderungen stellen wird. Scream ist die logische musikalische Konsequenz eines Mannes der sich nicht mehr zu rechtfertigen braucht. Scream bleibt eine Zäsur, die den treibenden Beat eines neuen Jahrzehntes vorgeben wird. - Dennis Sand

8 out of 10

When Chris Cornell announced that this, his third solo outing, was to be a collaboration with R&B wunderkind Timbaland, he was met with a mixture of pessimistic trepidation and outright indignation. It seems that, to many fans, the singer’s move away from the signature wail of Soundgarden and Audioslave is to be regarded as nothing short of blasphemy.

Many critics too have dismissed Scream’s brand of watered down grunge-hop as a sort of musical mid-life crisis with no real purpose other than to perhaps act as a cathartic exercise, allowing Cornell to exorcise his R&B demons. However, to view this record through the eyes of a rock purist is to miss the point of what the singer is trying to achieve, as well as depriving oneself of a rewarding listening experience that delivers more with each revisit.

Although the album opens with an irritatingly obnoxious horn introduction that would sound more at home over the opening credits of a low-budget George Lucas movie, and a worryingly stylised synth voice-over heralding "the Chris Cornell experience..." it soon settles into its stride with first single "Part Of Me" immediately showing off Timbaland’s trademarks — heavy bass-lines, synthesized samples, and dance-floor rhythms, with guitars way down in the mix. The segue into "Time" feels a little forced, as do many of the segue sections that come as part of this concept album premise, but the vocal delivery and catchy chorus ultimately make it more memorable than the opener.

Timbaland’s influence rears its ugly head again in the appalling use of Autotune vocals in "Sweet Revenge" where, instead of capitalizing on one of the finest voices the rock genre has to offer, the producer reduces Cornell’s bark to a robotic drone. Through the album’s finest moments, such as the dynamic, September 11-inspired "Ground Zero," the soaring "Never Far Away," the spacey U2-esque title track, and the closing smoky blues of "Two Drink Minimum," Cornell’s vocals shine through, and even on the weaker numbers remain characteristically strong.

However, the thing that lets this album down is in fact its "unique selling point," and the very factor that had Cornell’s fans all riled up in the first place — Timbaland. The hip-hop super-producer seems to be entirely out of his depth here, and whilst a few numbers possess interesting and full arrangements, for the most part his production is bland, unimaginative, and does very little to compliment either singer or songs. Whilst the tricks of the trade that he constantly reuses may work to great effect in the more electronic based genres of pop, hip-hop and R&B, here alongside Cornell’s edgy rock voice they sound corny, out-dated, and extremely forced. It is also worthy to note that the poetic integrity associated with Cornell over the years is somewhat tarnished by placing him in this most misogynistic of genres, with the usual ethereal images and heartfelt sentimentality somewhat replaced with posturing gibberish.

That said, Scream is not without merit and has a number of extremely rewarding moments amongst the more lacklustre work. This album was never going to equal the heights of Cornell’s glory days but it is at least encouraging, in a time where so many of our ‘pop’ stars find their ‘sound’ and stick to it with a terrified steadfastness, to see such a seasoned artist stepping out of his comfort zone and trying something more left field. Moreover when viewed without pre-conceptions, Scream in fact stands tall within the modern R&B canon. - Rhys Williams

Now, this is a strange one. Cornell's is the big, tough voice that fronted Soundgarden and Audioslave. Timbaland is one of the most feted of hip-hop producers. They have - it gets stranger - teamed up to produce an album that owes its inspiration to Pink Floyd's The Wall. It has 13 songs which, thankfully, do not appear to constitute a concept album, rather an experiment in pop-rock underpinned with electro-synth and drumpatterns from the dance world. The record has taken some stick (Trent Reznor described it as "embarassing") but it has some sweet melodies lurking among the electronics. The main problem is that a lot of the material is seriously repetitive and outstays its welcome. A brave effort, nevertheless. - Pete Clark

Mega-producer Timbaland works his magic on this dark and brooding album - it was Chris's version of Billie Jean that Austin sang on the X Factor last year. Perfect for when you've had a rubbish day.

This is the third solo outing from the ex-Sound garden and Audioslave singer. The grunge god wanted to do "something different" and has teamed up with top R&B producer Timbaland to produce an album that's already had fans accusing him of selling out. Best tracks are the Eastern-inspired Take Me Alive, Enemy and Climbing The Walls.

Volte-face do not come much more radical than this: Chris Cornell, formerly of Soundgarden and Audioslave, here teamed up with Timbaland and Jerome 'J-Roc' Harmon, the production talents behind Pussycat Dolls, Ashlee Simpson and more. Written and recorded in siux weeks, the resulting album is a complex and expensive-sounding undertaking, its exuberant, R&B tropes sometimes conjuring Michael Jackson trying to re-invent Bad for the Z generation. Surefire radio hit "Long Gone" succeeds by reining in some of the production/arrangemens excesses that can make Scream sound unwieldy, and with Justin Timberlake guesting on the eastern-flavoured "Take Me Alive", Cornell's stab at mainstream pop success is clearly signposted. At 44, he may have left it too late, and the Cher "Believe"-like vocal tweaks employed on "Sweet Revenge" won't thrill every grunger. But Scream has balls, Cornell vacating his comfort zone with admirable readiness. - James McNair

Chris Cornell shrugs off the black cape of his rock music past and sprays himself gold with the pop flavour of Timbaland for Scream. Fans of his grunge output during the Nineties may wish to hide inside their Kurt Cobain shrines, but there's a lot to like here.

Album of the week: Scream

A different musical direction for Chris Cornell

Chris Cornell – you know his name: bare-chested, oddly-bearded howler from grunge titans Soundgarden and, more recently, rock super group Audioslave. He also did the theme tune for Casino Royale, which was surprised a lot of his die-hard fans. Well, they’re in for an even bigger shock with his third solo album Scream, produced as it is by dance-colossus Timbaland and featuring the kind of R&B pop we’ve come to expect from Justin Timberlake and Nelly Furtado.

To his credit it’s a bold move and one the former Seattle grunger executes with great gusto - and unintentionally hilarious results. “That bitch ain’t a part of me!” he yelps on opening track, Part Of Me, while Sweet Revenge finds him puffing away like a dad at a disco, vocodered vocals and string samples mocking his attempts to get down with the kids. Even better – or worse, depending on your point of view – is Get Up, where over a skeletal hip-hop beat our Chris exhorts us to “Get off the floor.” You first, Mr Cornell, you first.

At times it sounds as if Cornell is a guest vocalist on his own album but I guess that’s what happens when you outsource your creativity. However, after a few listens a handful of songs shine through the heavy-handed production. On Time and Never Far Away the combination of Cornell’s rock stylings and Timbaland’s beats creates something completely original and Long Gone is one of the best tunes Cornell’s solo years have so far produced.

But there’s a lot of filler, including unnecessary musical interludes that link every track – they’re supposed to thematically segue the album, but Scream is a concept album in search of a concept. They only serve to give the songs an ending when they run out of steam, which in the case of Crawling [I think he means "climbing" - webmaster] Up The Walls and Other Side Of Town, is pretty quickly.

So kudos for trying something new, but the album’s title may well be the noise most of his fans will make on hearing it.

From the UK's Daily Mail:

Chris Cornell: Scream

Former Soundgarden frontman Cornell hails this futuristic link-up with super-producer Timbaland as "the best thing I've ever done". It is certainly an ambitious piece of music, pitching Cornell's impassioned vocals against the producer's cool but masterful beats. With its 13 tracks flowing into one another, the duo claim that Scream was inspired by Pink Floyd's The Wall, although its widescreen fusion of rock and dance owes rather more to Gnarls Barkley - AT

From the UK's Liverpool Echo:

There’s something oddly endearing about the ex-Soundgarden and Audioslave singer.

The grunge god wanted to do “something different” and has teamed up with top R&B producer Timbaland.

True, this is not the hardcore rock his fans might expect and it’s an ironic title as there’s very little screaming, but the results are definitely worth a listen. - Jade Wright

Ever wondered what it would have been like if Michael Jackson had formed Audioslave? OK not quite, but it was the first line that came to mind on the first listen and it stuck. The idea of rock God Chris Cornell and rapper/producer Timbaland teaming up for a new album should make even the most open-minded fan of either run for the hills. Sometimes the meeting of two great minds results in a total mess (Spielberg+Kubrick=AI anyone?) but occasionally it works. And thankfully, and against all the odds, Scream is one of those times.

If anything, opener Part Of Me is a very subdued introduction. Any song (let alone a lead-off album track) that starts with a fanfare, followed by demonic vocals pronouncing your arrival, makes you stand up and take notice. But what emerges is a controlled, well thought-out slice of modern bouncy electro-pop (none of this retro 80s nonsense). The combination of rock voice and dance production, coupled with a slightly misogynistic chorus, is not quite the song we were expecting. At over five minutes it rolls along into a messy outro… until you realise that we have now slid effortlessly into the next song: Time. One of the perfect things (and a simple yet sometimes overused idea) is to connect all the songs together into one glorious mix. Scream is a perfect example of how to do it well.

This first part of the album builds to a magnificent central point. Sweet Revenge has a wonderful R&B swagger without sounding soulless even if it does overuse the vocoder, and then all gets a bit old fashioned - the only time Scream ever does. Get Up plods along like it’s being played at half-speed and never gets moving, until we enter the squeaky political stomp of Ground Zero. The arrangement is absurdly weird, adding to the intrigue. The link into Never Far Away is like falling into madness before the real style begins and things start to settle down. This is one of the best songs on Scream - shimmering with electronic wonder and evolving in the last minute and half as grinding guitars come in to announce an interlude.

A trilogy of songs continue the sublime run of form. To begin, Take Me Alive is dark and mysterious, Cornell recalling the tale: “there’s nowhere for me to go / I’m a long way away from home / I won’t go without a fight / you’ll never take me alive!”. Into Long Gone and things get even more chilled with another soaring chorus and some wonderful guitars - the late break forming an instant highlight. Like the previous song, the last thirty seconds builds into the next song; the title track stutters uneasily into life before taking shape. OK so the chorus “Hey! Why you keep screaming at the top of your head” doesn’t work, and the voice-over is a little cheesy, but this is one of those forgivable moments. Even the repetitive last few minutes glide by into a bizarrely dark outro - bringing things full circle…

…Into Enemy which quickly picks up the pace - diving between quiet verses into thumping circular chorus. Lyrically, Cornell just about gets away with “taking my time to untangle the wires and stare into my sanity / dropping the hammer and pulling the trigger / I know now the bullet is me” thanks to a slick serious delivery. Even the military drum break ending, sliding neatly into Other Side Of Town has enough variation to keep your interest. The song marks a brief lull, and one of the only times the album descends into a too comfortable going-through-the-motions emptiness. Just as it gets predictable, another great hook and chorus drags you back into the fray and the overwhelming embrace engulfs you again. This time it is the excellent Climbing Up The Walls with another repetitive echoing chorus and shining guitars.

Into the last (official) song and Watch Out brings together Justin Timberlake inanity with head banging foot-stomping vocals. The end is sudden and after a minute or so of silence (the classic hidden track link), the album ends with Two Drink Minimum - sounding more like Mark Lanegan, this is a wonderful slice of dance-free no nonsense blues. It is a strangely normal way to end such an insanely fused and entertaining ride.

What Timbaland has done is created a dance album… that is really a rock album. Even though it has been mucked around with profusely, Cornell’s voice is still at the heart of this. And that is the key. It is not soaked with rap as it could well be and Timbaland is on his best behaviour. Rock purists will hate the constant loops and beats (a good thing as there are far too many of them and they can just go away and listen to Def Leppard and keep wishing it was still 1987) but more importantly this will alienate hardcore Timbaland fans. There is always a trade-off but no manner of over-production can destroy Cornell’s wonderful vocals. They shine with the kind of energy Akon is searching for but never finds.

It would be great to say that this is the sound of the future; progression if you will. But it’s not that simple. This has been done before for a start. What is clear is that this is one of those times when it works. Scream is a thoroughly enjoyable ride, from subdued start to strong finish, and those that are saying that the fusion of rock and dance has diluted the qualities of both have not given Scream enough time or respect. In a year when bands like U2 are trying to recapture a past glory, here are two musicians moving forward, taking a risk, reaching out… call it what you will. Trent Reznor should recognise a fellow musician making the same giant steps he has recently and stop feeling embarrassed. Against all expectations, Scream is a triumph. - Chris Sheerin

The controversy surrounding Chris Cornell's decision to collaborate with uber-producer Timbaland has set the rock world's teeth on edge. But what's really shocking is how lazy, bland and humourless Cornell's third solo album is. Timbaland, who has sprinkled his hip-hop fairy dust on weaker voices, rinses away Cornell's inherent dirt and power, and compresses the godfather of grunge until he squawks. Part of Me is old-fashioned and repetitive; tired synths and strings wash over the uninspiring Time and Ground Zero. Guitars are all too rare, and when they do emerge, they're far too polite to fight against Timbaland's box of neo-soul tricks and arbitrary rhythms. Cornell wrestles back control with Enemy and the cosy pop of Other Side of Town. Never Far Away, meanwhile, ironically recalls Aerosmith's Dream On, sampled so succinctly on Eminem's Sing for the Moment, where hip-hop and rock nourished each other. Here, they both starve.

From ArtistDirect:

Album Reviews: Scream by Chris Cornell

Considering Chris Cornell's songwriting leaps during the Soundgarden years, his move to the real big time with Audioslave, and the creative detours of his solo albums, most would not expect the guy's third solo effort to be a return to his heavy roots. But few would have expected it to be a pop album done in collaboration with Timbaland.

We’re talking smooth electronic beats and Timbaland's bleeps, bloops, samples, and sonic creations. The difference maker is Cornell's golden throat, which can often make a mediocre song powerful. On Scream, Cornell's voice is convincingly soulful, if occasionally a tad askew in the context of the prototypical pop songwriting (Justin Timberlake even makes an appearance!). The album does stay true–at least to some extent—to Cornell's vision for an album, rather than a mere collection of songs. That doesn't make it Pink Floyd's The Wall though, and "single" surely wasn't a word banned during the recording process. The ready-for-remix soulster "Part of Me" (and its memorable refrain) is one of a handful of songs with minor hit potential. The style is just not a perfect fit for Cornell, and Scream is not a perfect album, but the risk pays off more times than not. —Scott Alisoglu

Cornell gets his groove on in collaboration with the king of R&B knob-twiddling

The singer who broke up Soundgarden when they were a bigger commercial proposition than they'd ever been, and then turned his back on Audioslave before they'd even had the chance to tour their final hurrah, 2006's Revelations, has once again pulled himself out of his comfort zone and then some.

For this third solo album (following 1999's elegiac and criminally underrated Euphoria Morning and 2007's disappointing Carry On), Cornell has aligned himself to a producer as much a renegade and figure of notoriety in the hip-hop and pop worlds as Cornell is in his. Timbaland's numerous credits include Justin Timberlake, Madonna and Bjork, though his being considered a visionary among his contemporaries doesn't automatically make him a safe bet for an artist like Cornell: a man still revered in some circles as the cleverest and most consistent of grunge's plaid-draped pioneers. Cornell has referred to this album as the highlight of his career while the while the equally upbeat Timbaland thinks that it'll make Cornell "the first rock star in the club". So, over the the hubbub of mutual backslaps, just what is the sound that a Seattle archetype and a man who used to DJ under the name Tiny Tim combine to make?

Timbaland's sublime bells and whistles (not literally, it doesn't sound like Cornell's taken the train) are apparent from the off. "Climbing Up the Walls" might depict lives in crumbling disarray - familiar turf for the former Soundgarden singer - but Timbaland's bubbling, electro rumblings might make an unsuspecting listener flinch like a startled meerkat spooked by the shadow of a bird. Persist and you'll find Cornmell in towering form: his voice after years spent growling and screaming at Soundgarden's behest is now finely tuned. Warm, although never quite fuzzy, it bristles even as he croons. Loops and beats run through the undercurrent of pretty much every song and the pace is more sedate than anything he did with either of his former bands, but there are moments of reflection: the tingle-inducing "Long Gone" and the brilliantly haunting "Take Me Alive" could both have found a home on the Temple Of The Dog album, if it had been an electronica record. His ire's evident on the vitriolic yet effervescent-sounding "Part Of Me", while the driving "Other Side Of Town" dabbles in his drink and drug past. Cornell's on a new path now, and you'd be a fool not to follow him. - Philip Wilding

Unusual partnership of the week goes to the ex-lungs of hard-rock titans Soundgarden and Audioslave and his beaty, bleepy makeover at the hands of R&B super-producer Timbaland. It's an intriguing, if surreal mix (Justin Timberlake even pops up on one track, which should upset the grunge fraternity), but it somehow manages to tread the fine line, between easy on the ear and experimental, successfully.

Rockers feeling stale can always jump genres. Darius Rucker of Hootie and the Blowfish went country last year; now the rocker Chris Cornell introduces electrogrunge on “Scream,” his third solo album. Mr. Cornell, a grunge pioneer with Soundgarden in the 1980s and 1990s, wrote all the songs on “Scream,” but most of the music sets aside big guitar chords to embrace the synthetic pulse and programmed hooks produced by the hip-hop and R&B hit maker Tim Mosley, a k a Timbaland.

“Scream” is Mr. Cornell’s assertive move out of his old niche and toward the sound of the current Top 10. Goodbye, Pearl Jam, and hello, Justin Timberlake (who adds backup vocals in one song, “Take Me Alive”).

Singing about lovers’ quarrels and deeper anger and self-doubt Mr. Cornell remains as sullen as he was in his rock songs for Soundgarden and then Audioslave. In “Get Up” he intones: “You got a losing hand. You built a house of cards. On a hill of sand.”

He still sings with the chesty intensity that lets him project angst without weakness. But his complaints and confessions now arrive in clipped melody lines punctuated by automated arpeggios and snappy beats, as well as Timbaland trademarks like quick, sampled shouts.

Converging on pop from two different directions Mr. Cornell and Timbaland often end up sounding, oddly enough, like Michael Jackson in his semirockers (“Billie Jean,” “Dirty Diana”) or like Gnarls Barkley placing a gutsy voice in an artificial matrix.

Timbaland reframes Mr. Cornell. The first five songs on “Scream” pump along like a club D.J. set, staying at virtually the same tempo. And the whole album segues; each track ends with a transition to the next.

But only half the album aims for dance floors. Some of Mr. Cornell’s best older songs, like Soundgarden’s “Black Hole Sun,” were desolate ballads, and Timbaland would never disdain a dramatically ascending chorus. It’s easy to imagine songs like “Take Me Alive,” “Long Gone,” “Never Far Away” and “Scream” itself in smoldering rock arrangements rather than Timbaland’s Bollywood exotica (“Take Me Alive”), layered chorales (“Long Gone” and “Never Far Away”) and chattering double-time beats (“Scream”). The new environment rejuvenates Mr. Cornell for good and bad: he sounds shallower than he was before but pithier too.

Turns out that cover of Michael Jackson's ''Billie Jean'' on Chris Cornell's last solo album was prophetic; the former Soundgarden/Audioslave frontman's controversial new CD seems like nothing so much as an attempt to create his very own Thriller. What's more surprising than Scream's R&B bells and whistles (provided by überproducer Timbaland) is that Cornell almost succeeds at that goal without tarnishing his hard-rawkin' legacy. Expansive ballads like ''Never Far Away'' and ''Long Gone'' sound like dance-floor cousins to ''Black Hole Sun,'' and ''Time'' is perhaps the funkiest song to bear that title since Sly Stone's. Talk about being alive in the superunknown. B+ - Tom Sinclair

Produced with a heavy hand by Timbaland, the third solo album from ex-Soundgarden and Audioslave singer Chris Cornell is strangely appealing in its elaborately empty efficiency. Gleaming ballads like "Long Gone" and the title track wring mild drama from a combination of Cornell's husky crooning and stacks of portentous Phil Collins–derived synths. As Akon knockoffs go, some of this stuff isn't bad, but the fast numbers ("Time," "Get Up"), with Cornell's angsty rock-god vocals ricocheting off Timbo's skittering beats, are fresher and more enjoyable, at least in a monkey-riding-a-tricycle sort of way. - David Marchese

In theory, this seems like an intriguing experiment: Chris Cornell (above), the golden throat of grunge, teaming up with Timbaland, the maestro producer of au courant dance pop.

The credit - or blame, depending on the song - lies mostly with Timbaland, who simply plops the former Soundgarden frontman's voice into the sea of burping synths, celestial choirs, and fuzz that are the producer's undeniably funky signature. He rarely stretches more than a little toward Cornell's rock aesthetic, so it feels much more like "Timbaland featuring Chris Cornell" than the reverse. (The exception is a satisfyingly straight-up and lowdown blues rocker lurking as a hidden track.)

This forces the singer-songwriter to find a way to plug his poetic musings into a nightclub wall of sound, a framework that worked better for previous Timbo collaborators such as Nelly Furtado and Justin Timberlake. (The latter shows up to add backing vocals to the album's most compelling track, the sinuous Eastern-tinged groove "Take Me Alive"). Unfortunately, Cornell doesn't always come up with poetry, especially in opener "Part of Me," in which he endlessly repeats the unappealing phrase "that [unflattering word for woman] ain't a part of me."

Timbaland's beguilingly left-field vocal arrangements work well, however, particularly on the galloping "Time," as does Cornell's always impressive voice. He nimbly exploits his mesmerizing lower register and soars in the stacked harmonies of "Get Up" and the title track.

The resulting dynamic is two distinct flowers from the sound garden that produce an only occasionally sweet-smelling bouquet. - Sarah Rodman

Considering the amount of changes in musical direction Chris Cornell has undertaken during his tour of duty with Soundgarden, Temple Of The Dog, Audioslave, and his three diverse solo albums, you get the feeling the dude gets bored easily. It's almost as if his creative drive is based on mixing things up at the slightest hint of "comfortable," like some sort of artistic survival response. With every new solo album--such as 1999's Euphoria Morning (his "mature" album), 2007's Carry On (his more aggressive, commercial Rick Rubin rock project complete with strings and Dylanesque album cover), and now the proggy, r&b-driven Scream--there comes a further departure from not only the last release, but from what one would expect from this college radio god. Yes, we've been prepped on Scream for eons, whether it be in months of well-timed press releases, artist statements and interviews, downloadable tracks, or the Alan Furguson-directed title track video. But not everyone has been re-educated, and boy, do you have a surprise coming if you haven't caught any of these appetizers, considering just how far Cornell's pet project pushes pre-conceived parameters.

This time out, it's all about the Timbaland. Sure, throw-in co-producer Jerome Harmon, mixing engineer (and Nelly Furtado hubby) Demacio "Demo" Castellon, and vocal seer and overseer, Jim Beanz...but it's Timbaland's court. All have guided Scream's and Chris Cornell's sonics through a world of elegant but simple drum loops, banks of beautiful-to-wanky samples, a scratch or two here and there, and a jungle of sounds that conjures a visual like the old "Don't Cross The Street In The Middle Of The Block" PSAs of the sixties. Cornell sounds great navigating this cacophony, and Justin Timberlake and Timbaland merely accent the tracks on which they appear, never competing for artist title.

However, this is such a new adventure for Cornell that no matter how comfortable you get with Scream's interlude-laced, rock-soul approach, if you're a long-time fan, you're going to wonder which console fader jammed when it came to the guitar mixes. Yeah, they're in the stereo spread, but only occasionally poke their heads through the layers of lush keyboards, percussion and processed effects. But does it matter? Nope, not at all. Remember, this album--that Cornell suggests we listen to like Dark Side Of The Moon (Pink Floyd) or A Night At The Opera (Queen)--is supposed to blow your mind, especially though headphones. Plus this is a successful melange of concepts initiated on Introducing The Hardline According To Terence Trent D'Arby with some Gnarls Barkley served as a side dish.

Though the style has changed, we still get good ol' engaging Cornell lyrics, and some really bite (in the good sense), like those on the hook-laden, semi-rocker album opener, "Part Of Me," that begins after a cute faux movie-studio logo prelude. Floating amidst block vocals and minor key synth sounds that Rick Wakeman and The Tubes would envy is the line "No, that bitch ain't a part of me." It's repeated so often and matter-of-factly that it ends up being a misogynous anthem that's, thankfully, delivered without a ridiculous cookie-monster voice (a trend that needs to die quickly). The song's aggressive tone sets up the rest of the project, an exploration of stressed or failed relationships (including global).

"Time" features the smart lyrics, "The perfect present...is no longer the future," but an unexpected channeling of Don Henley's "Dirty Laundry" in the bridge section gets more of your attention through bouncing phrases such as, "Make a little love, make a little war" and "have a little laugh, have a little cry, each moment gets us closer to saying goodbye." "Sweet Revenge" discusses just what the title implies, despite its melody clipping a wee bit of Michael Jackson in the verses (nothing to see here folks, it's quite appropriate on an album like this, move along). "Get Up"'s chorus teaches us how "You need a backbone to roll with the world, you need one to run with the bulls," and "Ground Zero" asks, "When it all falls down and laws don't count...where in the world you gonna go?" This track, with its seventies-ish string arrangement, top and bottom interludes, subject matter, and soulful melody, seems to have been inspired by Marvin Gaye's What's Going On album. (Again, that's a good thing.)

After a much needed tempo change, the beautiful alty-gospel "Never Far Away" appears, and rock guitars finally assert themselves in the end sections. Cornell sings, "Give me definition for the words I know" as the melody suggests The Thomspon Twins have stopped by for beers. Sitar and a moody caravan tempo permeate verses of "Take Me Alive" (with guest Justin Timberlake), while the chorus evokes Matthew Sweet's Altered Beast-era vocal arrangements that bring home this tight sarcophagus that is wrapped in middle-east trappings. And though it sounds quite contemporary, "Long Gone"--if it had a monsterously fat, reverberated snair (and no audible Timbaland)--would be the power ballad most eighties hair bands would have traded their souls for had it been incarnated in that decade.

And that brings us to the title track, "Scream." With Mars Lazar meets Yes synths and drum machines this side of Hall & Oates' "I Can't Go For That (No Can Do)," Cornell's hook-filled meditation on composure asks the girl, "Why you keep screaming at the top of your head?" But you almost want to ask if the relationship is that damaged, why aren't you screaming too? The dysfunction continues with the line, "Throwing out the blame when you know it ain't my fault," but something hits home by the end of the song when Cornell sings, "I used to think that silence was golden." The lyrics question the surface meaning of all that preceded it, and that might be confirmed in the song's video that starts with relationship anger that eventually leads to everyone brawling. So is the message that "screaming" is what is contagious and damaging or possibly the ignoring of it--Cornell's first coping device in the vid?

This equation continues through the rest of the album, finally reaching "Watch Out," just a great classic rock piece whose arrangement and vocals are like a "Shout Out" to David Coverdale (no, Cornell's still not screaming). The song cleverly ends with what sounds like a tape reel spooling off of a Studer recorder, but don't be fooled, Cornell fans. We're served one more round in his hidden bluesy co-write with John Mayer titled "Two Drink Minimum," an after hours slow burn with smoldering harmonica and, presumably, Hammond B-3. (Note to John Mayer: Don't even think about a Timbaland collaboration.)

Overall, Scream is one of those albums in which you really lose yourself in the environment without questioning who it is you're listening to or the artist's history. Mission accomplished, that was the creator's intention...and that you listen to it top-to-bottom like the great concept albums of yore. But given his rock history, it is surprising that Cornell is not really doing a lot of screaming here except for within the lyrics. And all of his co-writing with Timbaland and posse has forced his music to leave behind a street of raucous, in-your-face stickball and hockey for one where he now has to gain a different kind of cred. Pretty brave, and it's nice that Timbaland has his back. But as good as Scream is--and let's wish it well--it would be a shame if the Chris Cornell we followed over all these years decides not to rock again because of its success. Now THAT would be a reason to scream. - Mike Racogna

When Weezer's last album opened with a dig on rockers who work with Timbaland, it probably wasn't intended for Chris Cornell -- but does the shoe fit? To their credit, Cornell and the celebrated hip-hop producer could have just tossed off a few flashy singles, but they both insisted on making a bona-fide album. Cornell had been veering dangerously close to pop-lite territory anyway, so only stood to benefit from Timbaland's visionary sonic touch. As expected, the producer provides sparkling, beat-driven soundscapes, but his master stroke comes in his ability to extract positively addicting hooks out of the least obvious of instruments. He also capitalizes on the latent R&B tendencies Cornell has shown from day one. Cornell's days as a brooding alt-rocker with a sharp poetic edge may be long gone, but at least he's found the nerve to show a completely new side of himself. - Saby Reyes-Kulkarni

Hip–hop production god Timbaland oversaw Chris Cornell's third solo album, which begs a question: Can digital–age beats party successfully with rock–god howling? The answer: Only if good tunes are invited. Scream veers between drab–sleek and rock–dude soulful; Cornell's yowl never sounds at home — especially on the "bitch ain't a part of me!" chorus on the lead track. Timbo lays it on thick - piles of guitars, dramatic synths and percussion that at their best achieve a meticulous heaviness. With the exception of the taut "Ground Zero," Scream feels like it belongs in a time capsule, a strange mutation that could only have been born this decade — Christian Hoard

The oft-delayed blend of Chris Cornell's trademark grunge-soul growl and Timbaland's percolating computer grooves, "Scream" is no less bizarre than its team-up suggests. Sometimes it's good bizarre: "Never Far Away" throbs with a dark drama not unlike the kind Cornell brought to his 2007 cover of Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean." Other times it's bad bizarre: With its layered harmony vocals and chintzy Middle Eastern trimmings, "Take Me Alive" sounds like it should be credited to the Pussycat Dudes. Throughout "Scream," though, you have to admire Cornell's and Timbaland's conviction: This music never gives off the whiff of desperation, even when it probably should. — Mikael Wood

Unlikely But Rewarding Hook-Up Between Grunge Anti-Hero and Justin Timberlake Guru

Chris Cornell is the dusty-lunged belter from Soundgarden and Audioslave. Timbland steered R 'n'B's progression towards glitched-up minimalism. Lock them together in a studio and you get a very expensive bus-wreck, right?

You'll be surprised to hear the answer is mostly "no". Though this hook-up frequently pushes at the boundaries of plausibility, there's lots about Scream that makes perfect sense.

Exhibit A is the single 'Ground Zero', a bluesy chiller that dispenses with high-end trickery and pairs Cornell's growl with a spare drum-tap. Elsewhere, 'Sweet Revenge' slices and dices Cornell's vocals and juxtaposes a yammering synth line so that it sounds as if he's struggling to be heard over the death-squawks of a chorus of quietly malfunctioning robots. Alas, there are momennts when the innovation spills over into indulgence: 'Never Far Away' is unabashed stadium pap which not even a tumult of Timbalnd FX can save from sounding like an out-take from Bon Jovi's country phase. - Ed Power

Fans of Chris Cornell’s Soundgarden days may be in for the shock of their lives with the singer’s new solo release, Scream.

Sound: For those of us who grew up with the early, grunge-fueled days of Soundgarden, you’re about to be in for a shock. Many of us know that Cornell has been branching out toward a more radio-friendly sound since splitting with Audioslave back in 2007, but the singer’s latest effort is a huge leap into unfamiliar territory: dance music. Scream, Cornell’s 3rd solo studio album, is rooted heavily in synth, sampling, and dance grooves. It’s a logical result, considering that Cornell chose Timbaland (the man behind many Justin Timberlake and Nelly Furtado songs) to act as one of the main producers of the album. Long story short, the best way to go into listening to Scream is with a completely open mind.

Listening to the 1st track on the record, I seriously thought I had put in the wrong CD. There were no crunchy guitars, or even acoustics for that matter. The song “Part of Me” begins with majestic horns (or at least samples) and soon after a crazy and indecipherable voice that sounds like a cross between a robot and a demon. It’s not really the way you expect a Cornell album to kick off, and it’s not necessarily a bad thing – just extremely unexpected. After the elaborate intro, “Part of Me” morphs into what is essentially a dance song. Drum beats and samples drive the song, and it is actually infectious in a clubgoer sort of way.

The dance/R&B vibe stays consistent throughout, and Timbaland certainly has a way with creating some unusual mixes. Between the Middle Eastern vibe and rich vocal harmonies of “Take Me Alive” to the computer-like synth solo of “Sweet Revenge,” the creativity isn’t lacking. “Scream,” which has a title that begs for some musical insanity (possibly of the metal kind), is actually one of the most laid-back songs on the album. Once again, Cornell knows how to raise a few eyebrows.

In the latter part of the album things tend to get a little repetitive. Granted, club/techno hits often rely on choruses that repeat the same line over and over again, and given the content on Scream, that’s probably what Timbaland and Cornell were going for. If you’re a fan of a more stripped-down sound that gets back to the basics, you’ll have to wait until the final track. “Two Drink Minimum” is a bluesy little number co-written by John Mayer, and while it’s still a far cry from “Pretty Noose” or “Loud Love,” it’s nice to hear instruments in their raw form come through the mix. // 7

Lyrics and Singing: When you compare the lyrics on Scream to Cornell’s past works, it definitely seems like many of them been written to fit the dance genre. “Part of Me” is a prime example with lines such as, “I love the girl, I'm lovin' the dress she wears; She's got a hold, got a hold of me neck, oh yeah.” Not every tracks is as quite as superficial, and there are a few that are more emotionally driven. In “Long Gone” Cornell sings, “I used to watch your flowers grow; Now it's raining and all your petals turns to stone; I've been praying; I turn around and see my rose.” The lyrical content may not be quite as strong as what we’ve heard in some Soundgarden songs, but in comparison to the music it’s nothing too out of the ordinary. // 8

Impression: The cover photo for Scream couldn’t be more fitting: Chris appears to look as if he’s about to smash the living crap out of his guitar. I may be reading too much into it, but it certainly does seem to relay a message that you don’t always need a guitar as the centerpiece to create a quality song. If you don’t like the idea of dance music fueled by funky samples and drum machines, you may be quite angry with the direction that Cornell has chosen. When compared with his last release Carry On, you do have to give him credit for being more innovative. Having Timbaland as a producer could guarantee him success with a whole new audience, and those listeners will likely be the most receptive to Cornell’s new club-driven repertoire. For those who are still mad that he went to a softer style of rock in Audioslave, Scream might be the final straw.

Many of Timbaland’s couplings initially raise some eyebrows, as is the nature of those who are truly avant-garde and visionary.

Scream, however, is raising a lot more than eyebrows. It’s raising angry voices. Many Soundgarden and Audioslave fans, and those who hark back to the raw roots of rock, are showing reactions that range from devastation to disappointment, to disgust. Some are even regarding Chris Cornell as one of the biggest sell-outs of this era. Wherever your loyalties, preconceptions, or grudges lie, the fact remains that this album is going to be chock-full of good music.

Perhaps the fact that I’m a sucker for both alternative rock and heavy, electronic beats makes me a little bit biased. Maybe the promise that this album will have a “psychedelic,” ambient feel strikes my fancy. Still, I honestly believe that Timbaland and Chris Cornell each bring what the other is lacking to the table. Timbaland produced a long string of singles, but I can’t say I know the name of even one of his albums. Scream, in part inspired by Pink Floyd’s The Wall, is said to be a comprehensive piece that will wrap listeners up in an entire experience. Chris Cornell, on the other hand, evidently could not go on with the same old sound any longer, and nothing forces inspiration to the surface like a change of pace.

The album is set for a March 9th release, and I’m willing to bet that the resulting Scream will be one of approval instead of one of rejection.

From a German article reviewing the Part Of Me video and previewing the album: here, Scream is called a "masterpiece".

Mit der Singleauskopplung „Part Of Me“ zieht Chris Cornell den Hörer direkt hinein in das Gipfeltreffen der Ikonen und präsentiert ein erstes, alle Sinne berauschendes und energiegeladenes Soundfeuerwerk. „Part Of Me“ erzählt von der sexuellen Anziehungskraft, dem inneren Kampf, sich zu einer Frau immer noch hingezogen zu fühlen, aber genau zu wissen, dass es ein Fehler ist. Diese Zerrissenheit zwischen dem Wunsch, ihr ganz nahe sein zu wollen, und dem alarmierenden Gedanken, dass sie immer noch die Falsche ist, erzählt Cornell mit bittersüßer Erkenntnis: „That bitch ain’t a part of me“. Chris Cornells markante Stimme brennt die Hook des Songs direkt in alle Sinne und vereint sich mit Timbalands Soundwelten zu einem einzigartigen Highlight, das eines ganz deutlich macht: Mit „Scream“ rollt ein Meisterwerk auf uns zu….!

Chris Cornell - Part Of Me [Interscope] New on the circuit and put out as 10" promo via Interscope is Chris Cornell's Timbaland-produced tune "Part Of Me" taken from his album "Scream". Fusing solid rock-influenced song writing on top of slow, electronic beats on the edge of House and Minimal Techno this one will work for mainstream radio as well as for club DJ's - especially the Instrumental cut will be loved by all those jocks spinning (Neo) Disco and Cosmic these days. Check.

CHRIS CORNELL Bye-bye, grunge — well, almost. Mr. Cornell, a grunge pioneer as the lead singer of Soundgarden, worked with the producer Timbaland for his third solo album, “Scream,” and their collaboration places his brooding voice amid Timbaland’s synthesizers and samples. The computerized tracks end up somewhere between Justin Timberlake and Gnarls Barkley, but his lyrics and his voice still hold that sullen grunge resentment.

Chris Cornell's previous solo album Carry On was on its way to being a footnote until it was rescued from obscurity by American Idol champ David Cook, who performed Cornell's version of Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" to great acclaim on the show. That melding of rock and R&B informs the onetime Audioslave frontman's new Timbaland-produced album, which was cut in a rapid-fire six-week studio run. "He's somebody who's a musical genius and records in very unorthodox ways," Timbaland has said of his latest collaborator's sessions, which resulted in songs that sound more like Gnarls Barkley than Temple of the Dog.

For live gig reviews, see the tour page. For reviews of Chris Cornell's Paris restaurant Black Calavados, go here. For reviews of previous Chris Cornell solo album Carry On, go here. And for my review of guitarist Yogi's solo album Metta, go here.