STONE TEMPLE PILOTS

BACKDROP:
Arriving amid a slew of grunge-come-latelys, STP were quickly branded a Pearl Jam clone. I remember a friend once called them Stone Temple Pearl Jam, and in a review for WWF Magazine, Jeff Jarrett referred to them as Stone Temple Pirates. I kid you not. Considering the fact that I didn’t like Pearl Jam at the time, I’m not really sure why I gravitated towards STP.




CORE:
This is the first CD I ever bought. I had gotten a CD player for Christmas and my mom gave me money to buy some music. I chose this because, well, simply because I happened to hear “Creep” on the ride over to the store. Ah, the impetuous days of youth when you could plunk down someone else’s hard-earned cash for the flimsiest of reasons. Almost two decades later (damn, I suddenly feel old), this album still provides plenty of fodder for the PJ/STP comparisons. I don’t think Weiland wasn’t aping Eddie Vedder so much as they were both aping Jim Morrison. Either way, the quality songcraft cannot be denied. Sure, Weiland falls into the alt-rock trap of writing nonsensical lyrics that aren’t nearly as deep as he thinks they are. Aside from that, though, this is a solid rocker from heavy opener “Dead and Bloated” to mesmerizing closer “Where The River Goes.” Even the artsy-but-not-really “Wet My Bed” serves its purpose in providing a respite from the powerhouse “Plush” and preventing “Crackerman” from being overshadowed.



PURPLE:
This one’s pretty much been in heavy rotation for me ever since I got it. If I were ever to compile my list of Top 50 Albums Ever, I’d reserve a spot for PURPLE, if only for the perfect pop of “Interstate Love Song.” By the way, I do not subscribe to the indie mindset that you can’t like the singles. In theory, the singles should be a band’s best songs since they’re the ones selling the album. And in the case of this album, any song could easily have been a strong single. I wouldn’t mind “Meatplow” or “Still Remains” receiving heavy airplay. And the hilarious tongue-in-cheek hidden track provides a great capper. I can’t see myself not liking this album in the foreseeable future. Interesting side note, the title of STP’s 2nd album does not appear anywhere in the artwork, much in the same way that the title of Pearl Jam’s 2nd album does not appear anywhere in the artwork. [Interesting aside to the side note: Wikipedia tells me that the Chinese character on the cover does mean “Purple,” and the title “Vs” does appear on the sleeve of some printings of the album. Whatever.]




TINY MUSIC:
Well, it certainly lives up to the title, doesn’t it? Everything about this album—the music, the vocals, the songwriting, the production—feels extremely thin. The hooks that kept TINY MUSIC afloat for me have not aged gracefully. The catchy “Big Bang Baby” is not so catchy anymore. The dreadful “And So I Know,” well, it pretty much remains dreadful. The album’s not a complete wash. The reflective “Adhesive” and “Lady Picture Show” still carry plenty of resonance, and “Seven Caged Tigers,” a song I did not care for originally, stands among STP’s finest moments. With Weiland’s well-documented drug problems, it’s a miracle this album got made. It’d have been more of a miracle if it’d had actually been good.



NO. 4:
This disc would make an excellent anti-drug campaign. “Hey kids, look at how smack can kill your voice.” To be fair, Weiland’s voice was equally ravaged on TINY MUSIC, but with that album's smaller musical scope, the problem wasn't as noticeable. On the other hand, this plays like an audition for Velvet Revolver. The band flexes their cock rock muscle more than they have since... well, they never really flexed this much cock rock muscle. This could easily be a lost relic from the 70s. Yet something seems off. The pieces seem to fall into place too easily, as if placed there instead of gelling there naturally. Hard rockers for the boys? Check. Tender ballads for the girls? Check. Mid-tempo numbers to change things up? Check. This is, sadly, rock by the numbers, though delivered with enough swagger to keep it palatable. Only on the beautiful closer, "Atlanta," do they drop the pretense, and to great effect. NO. 4 would be a minor classic if only it weren't trying so hard to be a minor classic.





FINAL THOUGHTS:
STP went on to release another album (which I couldn't care less about) before the friction between Weiland and the brothers DeLeo finally got to be too much. Weiland went on to front Velvet Revolver then Slash & Co. decided they didn't want another Axl. The rest of the band went on to oblivion, and the promise of a big fat payday cooled temperments enough to allow a reunion. Hopefully they won't release a new album.