Scott Weiland was more than a singer

In 2003, I was a freshman in high school. This is right about the age when most people really begin to branch into becoming their own person with separate interests, tastes and beliefs from their parents.

For me, there was no greater area I found pleasure than in music. Ironically, my Dad and I had begun to bond over the music he grew up with, but I used that foundation to discover my own musical passion. I used to spend hours at CD stores discovering bands that I hadn’t heard yet, or read about.

The 90s became that era for me. I loved bands like Alice In Chains, Nirvana, Soundgarden and Pearl Jam. Bands like The Beatles, Rolling Stones, and Led Zeppelin were the launch point from which these bands came from.

Yet, no band may have fit that bill more than Stone Temple Pilots.

I had heard songs like “Plush,” “Sex Type Thing,” and “Interstate Love Song” for a while without knowing who the masterminds were behind them. There was just something about their sound; no one sounded like them, and before I knew, I didn’t even think they were the same band.

After seeing an MTV2 ad for their greatest hits album Thank You, and hearing a snippet of a B-Side called “All in the Suit That You Wear” I had to have it.

Still, I can recall going to Target and picking up the non-deluxe edition. Funny enough, I realized that this was the same band that had sung those other great songs on the radio, and knew that I had to dig deeper into their catalog.

After researching, I learned that Stone Temple Pilots last album, Shangri-la-Dee-Da, had been released roughly two years before Thank You. Throughout my musical exploration, missing out on a band while they were still together was nothing new; after all, Pearl Jam was the only band from that period really still together.

I spent the next few months pouring through local record shops, eventually collecting them all. After doing so, I realized why I didn’t think the radio songs were the same band: each record was so sonically different than the other. None of their albums had anything to do with each other, and soon I had a Stone Temple Pilots album for every mood.

Their debut, Core, was a powerhouse, and one my Dad actually thought was Metallica because of how much heavier it was than the others. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this is what caused the California band to become lumped in with the Seattle music scene explosion of the era.

Purple may have been my favorite of theirs early on. Comparing it to its predecessor was futile. The band showed so much more range than on Core, which is what you want to see from a band’s second effort. You had Dean DeLeo’s slow, bluesy slide-guitar work on “Big Empty” with singer Scott Weiland’s soaring chorus. Even B-Sides like “Silvergun Superman” and “Unglued” were quality. You couldn’t go wrong with this because it had something for everyone.

By the time the band’s third album, Tiny Gifts…, came around, Weiland’s substance abuse was beginning to affect the band. However, that didn’t stop them from cranking out what may be their most underrated record. This was when Weiland fully-eschewed the “grunge” label and embraced influencers like Paul McCartney in a modern psychedelic rock record. In fact, this is when Weiland showed his versatility on tracks like “Lady Picture Show,” and his pop sensibilities on “Art School Girl.”

When No.4 came out, Weiland’s troubles had worsened, and his status with the band was questionable. The DeLeo brothers, and drummer Eric Kretz had formed a new band called “Talk Show” in 1997 while Weiland went solo. Fortunately, the band reformed to release their fourth album and gave you arguably their darkest effort to date. Even softer tracks like “I Got You” reference Weiland’s heroin addiction. Honestly, it’s a solid hangover album that matches your mood, but the ballad “Atlanta” validates listening to this one cover-to-cover.

In 2001, the band released Shangri-La-Dee-Da, which is even more of a departure from Core a decade before. You can hear the band has matured, and their lives had changed from being 20-somethings trying to make it in this business. Weiland had children, and reconciled with his wife Mary, and those themes showed through. While “Days of the Week” may be the song you heard on the radio from this album, “Too Cool Queenie” was the song that hooked me. Actually, the entire album is great to put on as you go through your day.

Of course, there were still the solo records and Stone Temple Pilots reunion albums, but these were my introduction.

I learned through reading magazine and online articles about the Stone Temple Pilots that Weiland was the creative force in the band. Weiland drew from a vast range of influences from David Bowie, to McCartney, to The Doors, and even country music. These also happened to be artists that I loved, and only made me want to dig in further.

Consider when Weiland joined Slash and Co. in Velvet Revolver. Their first album Contraband had all the music pre-written by the time Weiland joined, and it was very much a modern rock record. For their second album, Weiland had put his fingerprints on the recordings, and we again heard his pop influences shine through.

It was in these influences that Weiland established himself as more of an entertainer than his peers. If you saw him perform, Weiland would open the show in a fashionable suit, but wind up shirtless while screaming into a megaphone in leather pants by the encore. You had lights, video, and an all-out rock ‘n’ roll show. If you weren’t entertained, you needed to have your pulse checked.

With the news of Weiland’s death, it’s sad to think that we won’t get to see one of the best performers of our time. Recently, a video surfaced of Weiland singing his song “Vasoline” with his new band, but was off-key and mumbling lyrics. The video has since been taken down, but this came after an incident in Boston where Weiland reportedly told a fan at a meet-and-greet “Let’s get this s*** done with.”

Afterward, it seemed as if Weiland attempted to redeem himself on social media posting pictures with fans, and having more of an overall presence. We may never know exactly what had gone on with him in recent months, but none of it sounds good.

Scott Weiland spent the better part of the last 20 years trying to get on the right track. After 2001, it seemed that he had turned the corner, but his relationships dissolved with both Stone Temple Pilots and Velvet Revolver before these recent events occurred. You just hope that for all involved that they were able to make peace before it became too late.

Off-stage issues aside, you could never accuse Weiland about not being passionate about his craft. He was all about the show and his love for music emanated from his performances.

Weiland may be gone, but he not only gave us 20-years of his own music, he opened the door to the artists that inspired him.

In The Doors’ “When the Music’s Over,” Jim Morrison sings, “When the music’s over, turn out the lights.” Yet, he sums it best just a few lines later with “for the music is your special friend / dance on fire as it intends / music is your only friend.”

That last line to me sticks out when I think of Weiland’s death: the music may be over, but fans have years of it to revisit like an old friend.