The news of Scott Weiland’s death last night broke the hearts of millions of music fans. The Stone Temple Pilots frontman had notoriously battled with addiction for years, sometimes very publicly. For people like myself who were teenagers in the late ’90s and early ’00s, it felt like a little piece of their angsty alt-rock youth died. It sucks in every way imaginable.
When I was in middle school, I had a stereo in my room, but a pretty limited CD collection. So I listened to the radio A LOT. Like… A WHOLE LOT. There were only a couple of good radio stations in my Pennsyltucky hometown — a bunch of country, a bunch of lame, a “Mix” station that mostly featured soft Boyz-to-Men style pop, and a classic rock station. When the alt-rock station went on the air, it was a game changer for my listening habits.
This was around the time of JNCO jeans, right when I started “getting into” big punk/alt rock like Pennywise, The Butthole Surfers, Green Day, and Sublime, along with Seattle-sound grudge bands like Nirvana and Pearl Jam. Every teenager had that stage. Stone Temple Pilots were a particular favorite after hearing them on that alt-rock radio station. In fact, I liked “Interstate Love Song” so much that I’d call the DJ booth just to get them to play it. And they usually would.
idk. i'm probably last generation of 14-year-old to every have that experience with a song they love. calling the radio station to hear it.
— brandon wenerd (@brandonwenerd) December 4, 2015
“”
Anyway, Purple and No. 4 are masterpiece albums in my mind. I’m sad to hear that Weiland has checked out, whatever the hell the cause is, because it’s a reminder of my own aging and mortality.
Here’s his last performance in Canada the other night. Growing up sucks.