I dance to this song. And grunge really was just a dance craze at its core.

When my hair used to reach my waist, the dark mess would paint the air like an anti-sparkler forming 15-notch circuits tracing the abstruse beat of this song.

I love these sounds. The guitar phrasing in the verses is nicely asymmetrical and hits about every excellent half-step interval possible, with a few wide-gap jumps thrown in to keep you twitching. The choruses unleash goddamned hell.

The vocal by the late, immensely great Chris Cornell is an accomplishment. The high notes cannot be fully perceived by our ears, the way we have never really cast our eyes effectively on the sun. I don't think its greatness could be fully appreciated while Cornell was alive, not even by a slavish Soundgarden freak like myself. Like Don Quixote, only when he is gone do we realize the immensity of our loss.

One of the top classics of the Soundgarden discography.