Love Matt. I heard a funny description of his playing style, specifically regarding his unorthodox tom fills. They referred to it as like buckets falling down stairs.
If I didn't know this was originally by Black Sabbath, I would've believe it was a Soundgarden original song lol Badmotorfinger is imo a reminisced of the soundtrack of the '70s Black Sabbath 🖤
@@pinchegreg1 I know I was just saying if I didn't know Black Sabbath's Into The Void, I would've guessed it as a Soundgarden song. But I know Chris and Kim got inspired by Sabbath. 🤘🏻😎
Not all teenagers are the same! I‘m 15 and listen to Sabbath, Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, AiC, Dinosaur Jr, Screaming Trees, Tad, Green River, Nirvana, Sonic Youth, Mudhoney, Melvins, Fugazi, Meat Puppets, Deftones, RATM, Pixies and and and Some of my friends listen to the same stuff. I wish I was born in the 70s so I could grow up as a teenager in the late 80s to 90s Well, keep on listening to this masterpiece right here and have a good day everyone! Best wishes from Germany, Berlin :)
@@renannema1191 short of dying from obesity Buzzo should outlive all of the other rock musicians from that era.His poor choices were in bass players instead of drugs and alcohol.
The rare exception when the student outshines the master. They did the same thing with “Stray Cat Blues”,just decimated the original Stones tune-though it’s great-but Cameron and Shepherd are TITANS in a world of hacker rhythm sections... And Chris... fuuuuuuuuuck...
And here I thought and believed all these years that this was a Soundgarden original song, they played it like they owned it, along with every other song they ever played live. That's how great Chris Cornell was, to me any how. If he sang it, he owned it, he added his flavoring and it became a new, completely different style all his own. That great, he was, and still is.
Wow, thanks for sharing, from a massive Melvins and Soundgarden fan. I never knew there was footage of them playing together - and covering Sabbath at that!
Indeed! Too bad the lyrics are actually based off a variation written for a movie by a Hollywood script writer. The real Sealth letter is totally different. Still, an incredible version, I love it! SOMMS EP was badass, better even than Badmotorfinger
Chief Sealth "Yonder sky has wept tears of compassion on our fathers for centuries untold, and which, to us, looks eternal, may change. Today it is fair, tomorrow it may be overcast with clouds. My words are like the stars that never set. What Seattle says, the great chief, Washington [1], can rely upon, with as much certainty as our pale-face brothers can rely upon the return of the seasons. The son of the white chief says his father sends us greetings of friendship and good will. This is kind, for we know he has little need of our friendship in return, because his people are many. They are like the grass that covers the vast prairies, while my people are few, and resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain. The great, and I presume also good, white chief sends us word that he wants to buy our lands but is willing to allow us to reserve enough to live on comfortably. This indeed appears generous, for the red man no longer has rights that he need respect, and the offer may be wise, also, for we are no longer in need of a great country. "There was a time when our people covered the whole land, as the waves of a wind-ruffled sea cover its shell-paved floor. But that time has long since passed away with the greatness of tribes now almost forgotten. I will not mourn over our untimely decay, nor reproach my pale-face brothers for hastening it, for we, too, may have been somewhat to blame. "When our young men grow angry at some real or imaginary wrong, and disfigure their faces with black paint, their hearts, also, are disfigured and turn black, and then their cruelty is relentless and knows no bounds, and our old men are not able to restrain them. But let us hope that hostilities between the red-man and his pale-face brothers may never return. We would have everything to lose and nothing to gain. True it is, that revenge, with our young braves, is considered gain, even at the cost of their own lives, but old men who stay at home in times of war, and old women, who have sons to lose, know better. "Our great father Washington, for I presume he is now our father as well as yours, since George has moved his boundaries to the north; our great and good father, I say, sends us word by his son, who, no doubt, is a great chief among his people, that if we do as he desires, he will protect us. His brave armies will be to us a bristling wall of strength, and his great ships of war will fill our harbors so that our ancient enemies far to the northward, the Simsiams and Hydas, will no longer frighten our women and old men. Then will he be our father and we will be his children. "But can this ever be? Your God loves your people and hates mine; he folds his strong arms lovingly around the white man and leads him as a father leads his infant son, but he has forsaken his red children; he makes your people wax strong every day, and soon they will fill all the land; while my people are ebbing away like a fast-receding tide, that will never flow again. The white man's God cannot love his red children or he would protect them. They seem to be orphans and can look nowhere for help. How then can we become brothers? How can your father become our father and bring us prosperity and awaken in us dreams of returning greatness? Your God seems to us to be partial. He came to the white man. We never saw Him; never even heard His voice. He gave the white man laws, but He had no word for His red children whose teeming millions filled this vast continent as the stars fill the firmament. No, we are two distinct races and must ever remain so. There is little in common between us. "The ashes of our ancestors are sacred and their final resting place is hallowed ground, while you wander away from the tombs of your fathers seemingly without regret. Your religion was written on tablets of stone by the iron finger of an angry God, lest you might forget it. The red man could never remember nor comprehend it. Our religion is the traditions of our ancestors, the dreams of our old men, given them by the great Spirit, and the visions of our sachems, and is written in the hearts of our people. Your dead cease to love you and the homes of their nativity as soon as they pass the portals of the tomb. They wander far off beyond the stars, are soon forgotten, and never return. Our dead never forget the beautiful world that gave them being. They still love its winding rivers, its great mountains and its sequestered vales, and they ever yearn in tenderest affection over the lonely hearted living and often return to visit and comfort them. Day and night cannot dwell together. The red man has ever fled the approach of the white man, as the changing mists on the mountain side flee before the blazing morning sun. However, your proposition seems a just one, and I think that my folks will accept it and will retire to the reservation you offer them, and we will dwell apart in peace, for the words of the great white chief seem to be the voice of nature speaking to my people out of the thick darkness that is fast gathering around them like a dense fog floating inward from a midnight sea. "It matters but little where we pass the remainder of our days. They are not many. The Indian's night promises to be dark. No bright star hovers about the horizon. Sad-voiced winds moan in the distance. Some grim Nemesis of our race is on the red man's trail, and wherever he goes he will still hear the sure approaching footsteps of the fell destroyer and prepare to meet his doom, as does the wounded doe that hears the approaching footsteps of the hunter. "A few more moons, a few more winters, and not one of all the mighty hosts that once filled this broad land or that now roam in fragmentary bands through these vast solitudes will remain to weep over the tombs of a people once as powerful and as hopeful as your own. But why should we repine? Why should I murmur at the fate of my people? Tribes are made up of individuals and are no better than they. Men come and go like the waves of the sea. A tear, a tamanamus, a dirge, and they are gone from our longing eyes forever. Even the white man, whose God walked and talked with him, as friend to friend, is not exempt from the common destiny. We may be brothers, after all. We shall see. "We will ponder your proposition, and when we have decided we will tell you. But should we accept it, I here and now make this the first condition: That we will not be denied the privilege, without molestation, of visiting at will the graves of our ancestors and friends. Every part of this country is sacred to my people. Every hill-side, every valley, every plain and grove has been hallowed by some fond memory or some sad experience of my tribe. Even the rocks that seem to lie dumb as they swelter in the sun along the silent seashore in solemn grandeur thrill with memories of past events connected with the fate of my people, and the very dust under your feet responds more lovingly to our footsteps than to yours, because it is the ashes of our ancestors, and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch, for the soil is rich with the life of our kindred. The noble braves, and fond mothers, and glad-hearted maidens, and the little children who lived and rejoiced here, and whose very names are now forgotten, still love these solitudes, and their deep fastnesses at eventide grow shadowy with the presence of dusky spirits. And when the last red man shall have perished from the earth and his memory among white men shall have become a myth, these shores shall swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe, and when your children's children shall think themselves alone in the field, the store, the shop, upon the highway or in the silence of the woods they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place dedicated to solitude. At night, when the streets of your cities and villages shall be silent and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled and still love this beautiful land. The white man will never be alone. Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not altogether powerless."
Ralph Dougher ty I do not know, about necessary, but relevant, yes. B. L. Fisher, obviously understands the lyrics to this song. And was inspired. And expressed this in such a profound, and beautiful way. I just can't understand why this bothers you so much.
@Nickhead87 how do you even end up in a Soundgarden video when your thoughts are so far from any ideal that the band and the movement it was part of represented? Fuck off
DIG IT!!!!!!!! This is fucking killing me. I was going to see Sabbath on the final tour, but I saw too many examples of how shitty it would've sounded (I don't think Ozzy speaks English anymore). I'll keep THIS and watch it repeatedly.
OMG I just realized something they knew the music but and ha ha ha he's singing gibberish!!I I love it how cool is that! Check it if you don't believe me. Thank you
Matt Cameron is such a monster.
I wish he was still this good in Pearl Jam.
Love Matt. I heard a funny description of his playing style, specifically regarding his unorthodox tom fills. They referred to it as like buckets falling down stairs.
yes he is … one of the best
He just floors me with how dynamic he is. So heavy and creative too
Why is Buzz hiding in the shadows?
Melvins and Soundgarden covering Sabbath. Is this old footage or a live feed from heaven?
Both
Awesome ♡♡♡
We have King' Buzzo here. Come on.
Happy Meal from Heaven!!!
I know!?! F'n Boss!
Kim's guitar tone is like getting beat down with a sledgehammer.
Can not believe Chris covered this, I’m a huge sabbath fan along with everyone in the grunge era. Rest In Peace brother thank you for the music.
Without Sabbath, there is no grunge.
"Can not believe Chris covered this"? you must not lissen to much Soundgarden? or any..Melvins?
this is like some holy grail shit right here
exactlywhatisaid no shit. It’s so refreshing to hear real music. These days are gone.
The cup runneth over 🤘🤘🥴⚒️⚒️
Agreed man this is bad ass
If I didn't know this was originally by Black Sabbath, I would've believe it was a Soundgarden original song lol Badmotorfinger is imo a reminisced of the soundtrack of the '70s Black Sabbath 🖤
My eldest brother came into my room and said check out this Sabbath song,honestly thought it was Iommi in the early 90’s
@@pat168 Oh yeah I don't blame you man it has that sludgy doom riff! 🤘🏻😎
Brother where do you think Chris and Kim and Boys drew their inspiration from?
@@pinchegreg1 I know I was just saying if I didn't know Black Sabbath's Into The Void, I would've guessed it as a Soundgarden song. But I know Chris and Kim got inspired by Sabbath. 🤘🏻😎
Omg I actually thought it was ozzy and thought he did a guest song on Soundgarden cd! Wow... just amazing..
Back when Chris was a metal head!!!! I've always considered Soundgarden a metal band! Love and miss their music so much!
Soundgarden alaways denyed the "grunge" term. They were a METAL BAND
@@lacautsskar sound garden always sound heavy metal iimo.
and term Grunge made by media/ newspaper not them self
@@sikhostudio i surely agree
An old-school, '70s metal band with a punk attitude and underground appeal. They were a unique force.
Back when? I would argue that Chris was a metal head his whole life lol
One of the heaviest songs ever. Pay attention kids, we need more of this. The future is in your hands.
Slow your roll, old man. Lil' Pump is the future of music.
The future looks bleak with kids like you buddy.
He's trollin'. Cause 6ix9ine is the future.
Not all teenagers are the same!
I‘m 15 and listen to Sabbath, Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, AiC, Dinosaur Jr, Screaming Trees, Tad, Green River, Nirvana, Sonic Youth, Mudhoney, Melvins, Fugazi, Meat Puppets, Deftones, RATM, Pixies and and and
Some of my friends listen to the same stuff. I wish I was born in the 70s so I could grow up as a teenager in the late 80s to 90s
Well, keep on listening to this masterpiece right here and have a good day everyone! Best wishes from Germany, Berlin :)
@@dondonovan7079 NO DIGAS MAMADAS MORRO PENDEJO, LONG LIVE ROCK AND ROLL !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Just to clear things up. The words are a Chief Sealth (Seattle) speech set to Sabbaths Into the Void
I couldnt make out a single word
Well that clears things up
No one sings like you anymore..." 1964-2017
He just had to go and write a whole bunch of songs that would be just perfect for his eulogy...
dm2923 is king buzzo death?
Renán Ænema he is the Grim Reaper, yes
@@renannema1191 short of dying from obesity Buzzo should outlive all of the other rock musicians from that era.His poor choices were in bass players instead of drugs and alcohol.
Never Will again either! What Bad Ass!!
Golden age of eternal grunge soundgarden.
Not even grunge it's slugde. King buzzo (melvins) and Soundgarden were out in mid 80s doing this classic metal punk sound
@@chrismunoz7859 ._.
Fr why people only think of a this word and called it “GRUNGE”😐
The importance of Bill Ward can't be made more clear than in this song.
Danny Krinkle straight up! He was a phenom to me
Damn right!
Matt did an amazing job even by his own impossible standard's, the kit sounded awesome.
The rare exception when the student outshines the master.
They did the same thing with “Stray Cat Blues”,just decimated the original Stones tune-though it’s great-but Cameron and Shepherd are TITANS in a world of hacker rhythm sections...
And Chris... fuuuuuuuuuck...
Well said, well said
True. I like the way Soundgarden plays the riff more than the way Sabbath did
Love Sabbath love Soundgarden and Melvins this is my woodstock!
One of the greatest metal songs ever by Sabbath, and Soundgarden does it righteous!
If you ever wanted to know how important sabbath was to heavy rock. Here you go.
Soundgarden the greatest heaviest band since Sabbath
The Melvins are definitely heavier than Soundgarden, but together...
Can you imagine a Cornell fronted Sabbath ...I can.
Drumming is f*cking tight!
Sound quality is amazing!!! Kim's guitar tone is plain legendary!!! Did not miss a note....Hail Soundgarden, Hail Buzzo, RIP Chris
Damn Matt Cameron is the shit
And here I thought and believed all these years that this was a Soundgarden original song, they played it like they owned it, along with every other song they ever played live. That's how great Chris Cornell was, to me any how. If he sang it, he owned it, he added his flavoring and it became a new, completely different style all his own. That great, he was, and still is.
Schooling my 5 year old in 2023!! Two of our favorites covering another of our favorites. Song is fucking heavy
Wow, thanks for sharing, from a massive Melvins and Soundgarden fan. I never knew there was footage of them playing together - and covering Sabbath at that!
Dis is fuck-ing awe-some ain't it?
Absolute classic showing these guys influences.
I listen to chris all the time but never the melvins , am i wrong?
I had this on the "SatanoscillatemymetallicsonataS" disc. What a cool E.P.
Definitely. They did a killer version of Rolling Stones - Strat Cat Blues on there too.
"The man himself, Chief Sealth." Yup.
Indeed! Too bad the lyrics are actually based off a variation written for a movie by a Hollywood script writer. The real Sealth letter is totally different. Still, an incredible version, I love it! SOMMS EP was badass, better even than Badmotorfinger
Wow this is early 70s come to life. I am surprised and delighted
Matt Cameron is sporting Monster Magnet's Spine Of God T-Shirt!!!! \m/
I miss the 90's SO fucking much.
This is some rocking shit
I know your ears will never recover.
No doubt one of the greatest things I'll see today...
Again!
My safe haven
One thing I have my bro' to thank for
Introducing me to Great music
Real music
This song weighs a 1000 tons
Damn! I miss soundgarden so much! 🤘
King Buzzo on stage!!!
who woulda thought he has friends
just kiddin' I love Buzz and The Melvins
Oh I love this so very much. You Dale are an American treasure. Thank you for always being you.
I hate covers but great good LAWD this one is amazing!!
This is PRICELESS !!!!
Blown away! I am watching music at its BEST.
Soundgarden rocks rip Chris Cornell your truly missed
This is just ridiculously amazing
This fucking rules.
I guess I am proud of and happy I am from a place and time like this. the best of the Pacific Northwest right here.
I was a huge Black Sabbath junkie back in the 70s.
This is so good it’s beyond description.
Chief Sealth
"Yonder sky has wept tears of compassion on our fathers for centuries untold, and which, to us, looks eternal, may change. Today it is fair, tomorrow it may be overcast with clouds. My words are like the stars that never set. What Seattle says, the great chief, Washington [1], can rely upon, with as much certainty as our pale-face brothers can rely upon the return of the seasons. The son of the white chief says his father sends us greetings of friendship and good will. This is kind, for we know he has little need of our friendship in return, because his people are many. They are like the grass that covers the vast prairies, while my people are few, and resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain. The great, and I presume also good, white chief sends us word that he wants to buy our lands but is willing to allow us to reserve enough to live on comfortably. This indeed appears generous, for the red man no longer has rights that he need respect, and the offer may be wise, also, for we are no longer in need of a great country.
"There was a time when our people covered the whole land, as the waves of a wind-ruffled sea cover its shell-paved floor. But that time has long since passed away with the greatness of tribes now almost forgotten. I will not mourn over our untimely decay, nor reproach my pale-face brothers for hastening it, for we, too, may have been somewhat to blame.
"When our young men grow angry at some real or imaginary wrong, and disfigure their faces with black paint, their hearts, also, are disfigured and turn black, and then their cruelty is relentless and knows no bounds, and our old men are not able to restrain them. But let us hope that hostilities between the red-man and his pale-face brothers may never return. We would have everything to lose and nothing to gain. True it is, that revenge, with our young braves, is considered gain, even at the cost of their own lives, but old men who stay at home in times of war, and old women, who have sons to lose, know better.
"Our great father Washington, for I presume he is now our father as well as yours, since George has moved his boundaries to the north; our great and good father, I say, sends us word by his son, who, no doubt, is a great chief among his people, that if we do as he desires, he will protect us. His brave armies will be to us a bristling wall of strength, and his great ships of war will fill our harbors so that our ancient enemies far to the northward, the Simsiams and Hydas, will no longer frighten our women and old men. Then will he be our father and we will be his children.
"But can this ever be? Your God loves your people and hates mine; he folds his strong arms lovingly around the white man and leads him as a father leads his infant son, but he has forsaken his red children; he makes your people wax strong every day, and soon they will fill all the land; while my people are ebbing away like a fast-receding tide, that will never flow again. The white man's God cannot love his red children or he would protect them. They seem to be orphans and can look nowhere for help. How then can we become brothers? How can your father become our father and bring us prosperity and awaken in us dreams of returning greatness? Your God seems to us to be partial. He came to the white man. We never saw Him; never even heard His voice. He gave the white man laws, but He had no word for His red children whose teeming millions filled this vast continent as the stars fill the firmament. No, we are two distinct races and must ever remain so. There is little in common between us.
"The ashes of our ancestors are sacred and their final resting place is hallowed ground, while you wander away from the tombs of your fathers seemingly without regret. Your religion was written on tablets of stone by the iron finger of an angry God, lest you might forget it. The red man could never remember nor comprehend it. Our religion is the traditions of our ancestors, the dreams of our old men, given them by the great Spirit, and the visions of our sachems, and is written in the hearts of our people. Your dead cease to love you and the homes of their nativity as soon as they pass the portals of the tomb. They wander far off beyond the stars, are soon forgotten, and never return. Our dead never forget the beautiful world that gave them being. They still love its winding rivers, its great mountains and its sequestered vales, and they ever yearn in tenderest affection over the lonely hearted living and often return to visit and comfort them. Day and night cannot dwell together. The red man has ever fled the approach of the white man, as the changing mists on the mountain side flee before the blazing morning sun. However, your proposition seems a just one, and I think that my folks will accept it and will retire to the reservation you offer them, and we will dwell apart in peace, for the words of the great white chief seem to be the voice of nature speaking to my people out of the thick darkness that is fast gathering around them like a dense fog floating inward from a midnight sea.
"It matters but little where we pass the remainder of our days. They are not many. The Indian's night promises to be dark. No bright star hovers about the horizon. Sad-voiced winds moan in the distance. Some grim Nemesis of our race is on the red man's trail, and wherever he goes he will still hear the sure approaching footsteps of the fell destroyer and prepare to meet his doom, as does the wounded doe that hears the approaching footsteps of the hunter.
"A few more moons, a few more winters, and not one of all the mighty hosts that once filled this broad land or that now roam in fragmentary bands through these vast solitudes will remain to weep over the tombs of a people once as powerful and as hopeful as your own. But why should we repine? Why should I murmur at the fate of my people? Tribes are made up of individuals and are no better than they. Men come and go like the waves of the sea. A tear, a tamanamus, a dirge, and they are gone from our longing eyes forever. Even the white man, whose God walked and talked with him, as friend to friend, is not exempt from the common destiny. We may be brothers, after all. We shall see.
"We will ponder your proposition, and when we have decided we will tell you. But should we accept it, I here and now make this the first condition: That we will not be denied the privilege, without molestation, of visiting at will the graves of our ancestors and friends. Every part of this country is sacred to my people. Every hill-side, every valley, every plain and grove has been hallowed by some fond memory or some sad experience of my tribe. Even the rocks that seem to lie dumb as they swelter in the sun along the silent seashore in solemn grandeur thrill with memories of past events connected with the fate of my people, and the very dust under your feet responds more lovingly to our footsteps than to yours, because it is the ashes of our ancestors, and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch, for the soil is rich with the life of our kindred. The noble braves, and fond mothers, and glad-hearted maidens, and the little children who lived and rejoiced here, and whose very names are now forgotten, still love these solitudes, and their deep fastnesses at eventide grow shadowy with the presence of dusky spirits. And when the last red man shall have perished from the earth and his memory among white men shall have become a myth, these shores shall swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe, and when your children's children shall think themselves alone in the field, the store, the shop, upon the highway or in the silence of the woods they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place dedicated to solitude. At night, when the streets of your cities and villages shall be silent and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled and still love this beautiful land. The white man will never be alone. Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not altogether powerless."
Ralph Dougher ty I do not know, about necessary, but relevant, yes. B. L. Fisher, obviously understands the lyrics to this song. And was inspired. And expressed this in such a profound, and beautiful way. I just can't understand why this bothers you so much.
@Nickhead87 how do you even end up in a Soundgarden video when your thoughts are so far from any ideal that the band and the movement it was part of represented? Fuck off
Of course a racist fanatic like Nickhead87 would show up.
@Nickhead87 There's something _wrong_ with you, isn't there?
The Best thing that's happened to me All day! And All week in fact
Niceone @The Grunge Scene 🤘🏼
Dude. This is the best thing ever!! Truly epic.
Maestros haciendo cover de Maestros
Exactamente
Woooooow, thanks for this from a HUGE Soundgarden and Melvins fan!!!!!!!
Fucking heavy
Best played extremely loud 🤙
guy filming this had no idea who buzzo was and didnt even acknowledge him
I can see exactly how you can got that from a heavily edited live video.
Without Buzz, there wouldn't even be Kurt or Nirvana; so, do yourself a favor, ignorant child; sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up
@Harry Lime what a shit take. Soundgarden were hugely inspired by Melvins. They say it themselves
@Harry Lime You're clearly a bit out of your depth here, Harry. I'm actually embarrassed for you.
POWER ROCK at its best...LIVE \,,,/ \,,,/
DIG IT!!!!!!!! This is fucking killing me. I was going to see Sabbath on the final tour, but I saw too many examples of how shitty it would've sounded (I don't think Ozzy speaks English anymore). I'll keep THIS and watch it repeatedly.
I've seen it. Ozzy was not that bad.
ozzy was the least sound part of the performance but he didn't screw up a single line of vocals and did the crazy parts decently
brikrantz1 its too bad they did it without Bill Ward
Ozzy still had it, man.
My fav cover
i just cried
Amazing!!!!!
Fkn amazing!!!
That was f*king amazing! Thank U! XoxO
Cameron =beast
Great sound on this vid
Awesome!!!
Őrület!!!!!!
Favorite rock drummer ever
Fuckin epic!
Awesome 💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻
Yes!!!
Boa noite from Brazil... isso é demais... ficou ótimo.... mais pesado que a original...
Buzzo is God
sound garden rocks
❤❤❤ THIS 2 MUCH!
hell yeah!!!!!
Killed it.
divine
awesome
Soundgarden way better than Pearljam! Just saying. Love PJ but SG fucking awesome!
Heavy ❤️
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
that's so bad ass
OMG I just realized something they knew the music but and ha ha ha he's singing gibberish!!I
I love it how cool is that!
Check it if you don't believe me.
Thank you
Hehe i was thinking the same. Was thinking it was the audio.probably why this clip isnt ultra popular
It’s a poem by Chief Sealth
Same message as Sabbath’s version just waaaaay more eloquently stated.
@@gregcoates4281 i know but still its a it very hard to make out what hes saying in the peformance imo
What a great fkN recording 🌈💗💥
This sounds so fukkin good! AHHHHHHH
Holy shit!
Seen them New Year’s Eve at Joe Robbie stadium Miami do this Badmotorfinger tour . Opening for GNR Use your Illusion one and two tour. 46k attendees.
💕
Aplanadora...
Matt la descoce...
Rip Chris Cornell
look at the size of that hair
awssme time
the grunge blueprint
this is night 2. motorvision is all from night 1 & has a total different setlist :)
daaamn
Fuck yes.
🤘💀🤘
BUZZZ!!!
Fucking Awesome!
😍
Fuck Yeah!!!
Brilliant shit
Fucking epic!