As an album King Animal remains a somewhat numbing listen, its components, as excellent as they individually often are, making for a rather wearing collective, undeniably muscular but curiously unmemorable.
Soundgarden deserves to be commended for recapturing the feeling of grunge and reintroducing it today.
In spite of the lack of innovation, King Animal rarely feels like a legacy act halfheartedly retreading its past glories.
Unfortunately, King Animal too often leaves the listener imagining what a song would have sounded like without the sanitizing.
All those years in Audioslave have smoothed Cornell’s appealingly rough edges, and as grand as ‘King Animal’ occasionally sounds, it lumbers when it should roar.
Everything the sarcastic flannel-wearer hibernating inside of us all might hope for is present: Cornell’s weathered yet still sturdy wail, a weighty rhythm section, and an unending stream of detuned riffs in weird time signatures.
King Animal makes for a respectable display of Soundgarden's proficiency, but lacks their once-imposing majesty.
King Animal would have been better had it foregone the regal pretensions and just stuck to being a feral beast.