Stone Temple Pilots aren't from Seattle.
San Diego.
I know.
Save the angry letter.
They're on this site because I listened to them, sold a shitload of their records, saw what happened when Core blew up, and I still think they made some great music.
That's enough for me.
I first heard them in ’92.
Core showed up at the store and pretty much immediately everybody had an opinion.
“Sex Type Thing.”
Big guitars. Big voice. Big choruses.
Then “Plush” hit.
And that's when the arguments really started.
Pearl Jam.
Alice in Chains.
Seattle rip-off.
Corporate grunge.
Stone Temple Pearl Jam.
Jesus Christ, I got tired of hearing that one.
Did Scott Weiland sometimes sing in that low, early-’90s baritone that everybody suddenly associated with Eddie Vedder?
Sure.
Did Core arrive at exactly the moment every record company in America was looking for loud guitar bands they could stick next to Nevermind?
Absolutely.
Does that make “Plush” a bad song?
Nope.
I liked Core.
Still do.
“Dead & Bloated” is a hell of an opening.
“Wicked Garden.”
“Creep.”
“Sin.”
There are songs on that record I don't need to hear again for another ten years because radio beat them into the ground, but that's not really the band's fault.
The funny thing is that everybody who decided STP were just Pearl Jam imitators suddenly had a harder argument to make when Purple came out.
That's the record that really sold me.
“Vasoline.”
“Lounge Fly.”
“Big Empty.”
“Interstate Love Song.”
“Silvergun Superman.”
They sounded looser.
Weirder.
More confident.
Less like a band trying to prove they belonged and more like a band that didn't give a shit what box you'd already put them in.
I probably sold hundreds of copies of that thing.
And yes, I bought one too.
Employee discount.
One of the few financial advantages of spending your entire paycheck in the same place you earn it.
By Tiny Music... Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop in ’96, the whole “grunge copycats” argument sounded pretty ridiculous to me.
That record is all over the place.
Glam.
Psychedelia.
Pop.
Cheap fuzz.
Weird little guitar parts.
“Big Bang Baby.”
“Trippin' on a Hole in a Paper Heart.”
“Lady Picture Show.”
“Adhesive.”
If your idea of Stone Temple Pilots begins and ends with “Plush,” put Tiny Music on.
Then come back.
Unfortunately, by then there was another story following the band everywhere.
Scott.
Arrests.
Heroin.
Rehab.
Cancelled shows.
Every music magazine seemed to be waiting for the next disaster.
I don't have anything clever to say about that.
Watching somebody's addiction become entertainment has always made me uncomfortable.
The band basically lost years to it.
The DeLeo brothers, Robert and Dean, started Talk Show with Eric Kretz and Dave Coutts while STP were inactive. They made one record in ’97.
Didn't exactly set the world on fire.
Then STP came back.
No. 4 showed up in ’99 and sounded mean again.
“Down” is probably still my favorite thing on there.
“Heaven & Hot Rod.”
“Sour Girl.”
Good record.
Better than I expected at the time, if I'm being fair.
And last year we got Shangri-La Dee Da.
That's a strange one too.
Not sure I've completely figured that record out yet.
I like that.
As I'm writing this in 2002, they're still here.
Somehow.
Five albums in, after everything that's happened, Stone Temple Pilots are still a band.
I'm not going to pretend I know what happens next.
But looking back at the last ten years, the thing that strikes me is how badly people wanted STP to be one simple thing.
Pearl Jam clones.
Grunge opportunists.
Alternative rock stars.
Scott Weiland's disaster story.
Whatever.
The records are more interesting than that.
And no, they weren't part of the Seattle scene.
They were part of my record collection.
That's why they're here.
