2000 was an interesting time in my life. Several years earlier I had pretty much walked away from music. I wasn't listening to anything new, I wasn't playing, I wasn't singing. I was in a dark place, musically speaking.
I took a 2-week-long trip to Arizona and, during a free weekend, I went on a trip into the desert. I took nothing with me except a T-shirt, a gallon of water, and 2 CDs I bought at the K-Mart. I hopped in the rental and drove the Beeline Highway, through several national forests, to Winslow. I was on a mission of self-discovery. (I would eventually arrive at the Grand Canyon where I was overwhelmed.)
One of the 2 CDs I bought was STP's No.4.
I had heard "Sour Girl," somewhere, and had owned "Purple" at one time.
I wasn't prepared for what I heard. The opening track, "Down," was so heavy and demanded my attention. Then the band delivers a left hook with "Heaven and Hot Rods." I was hearing raw, heavy rock and roll like I hadn't heard in years. Other favorites include the brilliant pop song "Church on Sunday," the driving "No Way Out," the epic, "Glide," and "Atlanta," where Scott Weiland channels his best Jim Morrison. In the end, there's not a track on this record that I don't love."
We lost a brilliant artist when we lost Scott. His pop and raw rock sensibilities mixed with the musical brilliance of the DeLeo brothers made for some amazing songwriting. I miss him.
Moreover, I'm grateful that this album reignited something in me that I thought had died. I've listened to music much differently since then.
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