Chris Cornell flew toward the sun with 2009's Scream but he got burned. The
Timbaland-produced album marked a sudden shift toward electronic pop, a move that did not sit well with either critics or
Cornell's audience, but he didn't react swiftly to the derision. He moved slowly, revisiting his catalog on 2011's
Songbook and then reuniting with
Soundgarden before releasing
Higher Truth some six years after Scream. Hiring producer
Brendan O'Brien, a fellow veteran of the grunge wars of the '90s, suggests
Cornell is backpedaling from the chilly electro surfaces of his last solo album, but
Higher Truth isn't quite a retreat.
Cornell possess an easy, quiet confidence throughout this handsome, burnished record, an album that occasionally recalls the breaking twilight of
Euphoria Mourning but feels warmer and looser than that 1999 solo debut. Despite the ornate accouterments of the opener "Nearly Forgot My Broken Heart" -- a pop single so stately it's almost Baroque --
Higher Truth isn't especially dramatic.
O'Brien favors subtle shading over bombast, so even when the tracks are built up with pianos, strings, harmonies, and fuzz guitars, it feels intimate, almost acoustic. This illusion persists because there are a fair share of spare, delicate solo numbers here, interwoven among those bolder but still quiet pop tunes. While
Higher Truth never seems as self-consciously confessional as
Euphoria Mourning, this mellow simplicity is an attribute: a relaxed
Cornell creates a comforting mood piece that's enveloping in its warmth. [An LP version of
Higher Truth added four bonus tracks.] ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine