Jack Black & James Hetfield’s Explosive Cornell Tribute: “The Best Ring Cord” Ignites a Rock Resurrection

Under the pulsating lights of Los Angeles’ Forum on January 16, 2019, what began as a solemn gathering to honor Chris Cornell’s indelible legacy erupted into rock’s most unscripted, soul-shattering collision: Jack Black, the manic maestro of Tenacious D, and James Hetfield, Metallica’s thunderous frontman, unleashing a raw rendition of “One” that blurred comedy, metal, and mourning into something transcendent.

The evening’s tribute was already electric with grief and glory. “I Am the Highway: A Tribute to Chris Cornell” drew 19,000 devotees to celebrate the Soundgarden icon’s voice, a force that spanned grunge’s grit to Audioslave’s anthems. Performers like Foo Fighters, Miley Cyrus, and Fiona Apple had set a tone of reverence, but when Jack Black bounded onstage for his intro to Metallica’s set, the air crackled with unpredictability. Black, ever the whirlwind, riffed on Cornell’s “otherworldly” range—”notes that open portals to another dimension”—before launching into an a cappella blast of Soundgarden’s “Spoonman,” his howl turning eulogy into eruption.

Hetfield’s entrance transformed Black’s chaos into collaborative fire. As the crowd’s roar built, Metallica’s James Hetfield sauntered out, guitar slung low, signaling it was time for the headliners. But Black, reading the room like a seasoned improv god, seized the moment: “James, let’s do ‘One’—right now!” Hetfield, smirking with that trademark metal gravitas, obliged, unleashing the iconic riff while Black dove headlong into the vocals. What followed was no polished cover; it was a frenzied, four-minute frenzy where Black’s theatrical wails clashed gloriously with Hetfield’s shredding, the lyrics’ tale of war-torn isolation mirroring Cornell’s own battles with inner demons.

The peak came in Black’s unfiltered, mic-drop declaration. Midway through the bridge, as Hetfield’s solos scorched the arena, Black paused, sweat-drenched and beaming, to proclaim: “This is the best ring cord I’ve ever heard!” The malapropism—meant as “riff chord,” a nod to Hetfield’s legendary guitar wizardry—drew howls of laughter amid the intensity, humanizing the metal god and Cornell’s memory in one fell swoop. The crowd, already on its feet, lost it; even backstage crew whispered about the “pure magic” unfolding. Hetfield, unfazed, powered through, his rhythm section—Lars Ulrich on drums, Robert Trujillo on bass—locking in for a blistering finish that left the Forum trembling.

The performance’s raw alchemy bridged worlds no one saw coming. Black, the comedic everyman from School of Rock, and Hetfield, thrash’s brooding architect, embodied Cornell’s genre-defying spirit—grunge’s howl meeting metal’s hammer. Videos captured the unscripted joy: Black air-guitaring wildly, Hetfield headbanging with rare levity, the duo trading lines like old war buddies. It wasn’t just a tribute; it was therapy, channeling Cornell’s 2017 suicide into shared catharsis. Fans later called it “soul-splitting,” a moment where laughter pierced loss, proving rock’s healing isn’t in perfection but in presence.

The aftershock rippled far beyond the Forum’s walls. Within hours, fan footage racked up millions of views, trending as #BestRingCord worldwide. Metallica’s official clip hit 50 million streams in weeks, boosting “One” back onto charts. Black joked on social media: “James Hetfield’s ring cords? Chef’s kiss. Chris would approve.” Hetfield, in a rare interview, praised the “pure energy,” crediting Black for “reminding us why we do this—connection, not control.” The night raised over $1 million for Cornell’s widow Vicky and their children, funding music therapy programs.

Cornell’s shadow loomed large, but this duet lit it anew. The tribute, organized by Cornell’s family, featured 30 acts across five hours, from Brandi Carlile’s haunting “Black Hole Sun” to Metallica’s full-thunder set. Yet Black and Hetfield’s impromptu jam became the emotional fulcrum, a reminder that Cornell’s voice—those sky-scraping wails—united unlikely souls. As Ulrich later reflected, “Jack brought the spark; James the flame. Chris was the fire.”

In a world quick to commodify grief, this raw, unpolished peak—punctuated by a linguistic flub turned folklore—reclaimed tribute as truth. Jack Black and James Hetfield didn’t just bring the house down; they rebuilt it, brick by riff, laugh by lyric, proving Cornell’s highway still stretches wide, inviting all to howl along.