Just the other day, I was mind-drifting on all of the dead rock stars that I love. It occurred to me that it's AMAZING that Scott Weiland isn't dead yet. And now, this happens. Fuck. I have sentimental ties to STP's 90's output. Core was one of the first albums I legit owned. I first borrowed it from my cousin and immediately loved every track, even the cursory instrumental. Of course, Purple is flawless. I've heard "Big Empty" too many times, but who cares? Again, every track is immediate and catchy as sin.
The only other STP record I can vouch for loving is No. 4, which I'm listening to as I write this panegyric. You have to give Scott this much; he gave his demons a fierce battle. The media pegged him as the next grunge corpse (at least) fifteen years ago. It's frustrating to read how many times he was able to get clean only to relapse a year or two later. Really fucking frustrating.
Thanks for the music, Scott. Rest in peace.
Posted by Dom Coccaro at 8:40 PM