Why Chris Cornell’s Nothing Compares 2 U is the Definitive Version

Why Chris Cornell’s Nothing Compares 2 U is the Definitive Version

Music history is littered with covers that didn't need to happen. Most of them are just karaoke with a bigger budget. But then there’s the late Chris Cornell. When he sat down at SiriusXM in 2015 to perform Nothing Compares 2 U Chris Cornell style, something shifted in the atmosphere. It wasn't just a tribute; it was a reclamation of a song that had already lived three distinct lives.

Originally penned by Prince for his side project The Family in 1985, the track was basically a funk-tinged footnote until Sinead O’Connor turned it into a global phenomenon in 1990. Her version was icy, vulnerable, and deeply cinematic. But Cornell? He took it to the dirt. He found the grit in the grief.

Honest truth: most people don't realize Prince actually wrote this about his housekeeper, Sandy Scipioni, who left his employ after a family death. It wasn't even meant to be a romantic ballad. Yet, through Cornell's vocal cords, it sounds like the end of the world. It sounds like a man staring into a mirror at 3:00 AM and not liking who’s looking back.

The Raw Mechanics of the Cornell Performance

What makes the Nothing Compares 2 U Chris Cornell rendition so haunting isn't just the voice. It's the restraint. We’re talking about a guy who could shatter glass with a four-octave range, the man who fronted Soundgarden and Audioslave with a prehistoric roar.

In this session, he chose a simple acoustic arrangement. He brought in a cellist. That was a stroke of genius. The cello mimics the low register of his voice, creating this thick, syrupy layer of sadness that underscores every lyric. While Sinead’s version relied on that iconic, soaring synth-string hook, Cornell relied on the vibration of wood and wire.

  • The tempo is dragged. It’s slower than the versions that came before it.
  • He leans into the "blue" notes, those slight flattings of the pitch that suggest a soul in pain.
  • He switches between his chest voice and a fragile head voice. It makes him sound human.

Listen closely to the way he sings "It's been seven hours and fifteen days." He doesn't belt it. He exhales it. It’s the sound of someone who has actually been counting the minutes.

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Why This Specific Cover Went Viral Post-2017

We have to talk about the elephant in the room. When Cornell passed away in May 2017, this song became the unofficial anthem of his mourning. It’s a bit macabre, sure, but that’s how fans process loss. The video of the performance exploded on YouTube, racking up hundreds of millions of views.

It felt prophetic. It felt like he was singing to us, or perhaps we were all singing it back to him. The irony of a man who spent his life singing about "Black Hole Sun" and "The Day I Tried to Live" covering a song about an irreplaceable absence is almost too heavy to handle.

Critics from Rolling Stone and Pitchfork have frequently cited this as one of the greatest covers of all time, and they aren't just being sentimental. It’s technically proficient but emotionally devastating. Prince himself was notoriously picky about people covering his work, but even the Purple One’s estate eventually released Prince’s original 1984 rehearsal of the track, perhaps realizing that the song had entered a new cultural stratosphere thanks to Cornell.

The Lyrics: Prince vs. Sinead vs. Cornell

The words haven't changed, but the meaning has morphed. When Prince wrote "I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant," it felt like a boast from a lonely eccentric. When Sinead sang it, it felt like a declaration of independence.

When Cornell sings it? It sounds like a lie.

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You don't believe him for a second. You get the sense that the "fancy restaurant" is the last place on Earth he wants to be. He highlights the mundanity of depression. The bit about the doctor telling him to have fun? That’s where he shines. He delivers the line with a sneer—a classic grunge-era cynicism that Prince didn't have and Sinead didn't use.

Breaking Down the Arrangement

Most artists try to "rock out" when they cover a ballad. They add drums. They add a guitar solo. Cornell did the opposite. He stripped it further.

  1. The Intro: Just a few lonely chords. It establishes a lack of hurry.
  2. The Cello: Arrives like a ghost in the second verse.
  3. The Vocal Peak: He only really pushes his voice during the bridge. He saves the power for when it's earned.

It’s a masterclass in tension and release.

The Technical Difficulty of Nothing Compares 2 U

If you're a musician, try playing this the way he did. It’s not just G-D-Em-C. It’s the phrasing. Cornell had this way of sliding into notes from underneath, a technique called "scooping," but he did it with such precision that it never sounded out of tune.

He also changed the melody slightly in the chorus. He goes lower where others go higher. This choice keeps the song grounded in the "earth" rather than the "sky." It makes the listener feel like they are sitting in the room with him, rather than watching a performance on a stage.

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Honestly, the Nothing Compares 2 U Chris Cornell version is the one that stays with you because it feels private. It’s like you’re eavesdropping on a prayer.

How to Truly Appreciate the Track

To get the full effect of what Cornell did here, you have to look at his late-career trajectory. He was doing the "Songbook" tours—solo acoustic shows where he’d play everything from Soundgarden hits to Billie Holiday covers. He was stripping away the wall of Marshall stacks to show the bones of his songwriting.

This cover was the pinnacle of that era. It proved that he wasn't just a "grunge guy." He was a world-class interpreter of song.

Essential Listening Steps

  • Listen to the Prince 1984 Rehearsal first. Get the blueprint. Hear the funk and the 80s production.
  • Watch the Sinead O'Connor music video. Pay attention to the close-up on her face. Feel the coldness.
  • Finally, put on the Cornell version with high-quality headphones. Don't watch the video the first time. Just listen to the intake of breath before the chorus.

The differences are staggering. Prince is about the groove. Sinead is about the image. Cornell is about the soul.

Actionable Insights for Music Fans

If you're moved by this performance, don't just stop at the YouTube video. There is a whole world of Cornell's "unplugged" genius to explore that explains how he reached this level of emotional transparency.

  • Check out the "Songbook" live album. It features acoustic versions of "Black Hole Sun" and "Like a Stone" that carry the same DNA as Nothing Compares 2 U.
  • Explore his cover of "Thank You" by Led Zeppelin. It’s another example of him taking a classic and making it sound like it was written in a rainy Seattle basement.
  • Learn the arrangement. If you play guitar, look up the specific chord voicings he uses. He often used slightly "darker" versions of standard chords (like adding an F# to a D chord) to create that signature melancholy.
  • Support the Chris and Vicky Cornell Foundation. A lot of the posthumous releases and the continued legacy of his music go toward helping vulnerable children, which adds a layer of purpose to his art.

Nothing compares to the original? Usually, that's true. But in the case of Chris Cornell, the rule was meant to be broken. He didn't just cover a song; he gave it a final resting place.