Stone Temple Pilots, No. 4
The unassuming name aside, No. 4 is a killer collection of well-written songs, mixing heavy-metal head bangers with sixties-influenced numbers, enough to make the listener hope for a live performance soon. Therein lies the rub. With lead singer Scott Weiland locked in the slammer for a parole violation, it doesn't look like STP will see any stage outside of the prison circuit, and even then.... So it's a PR nightmare, and some junior executive gets a head start on an ulcer with a brilliant CD to promote and nowhere to go.

But what a CD. The opener, "Down," is as metal as metal gets, with razor-edged guitars swelling up and falling back down, vocals doubled and chockfull of delay, popping with all the right drum kicks and breaks, so much that I was reaching for my Bic lighter at song's end. The heads keep on banging for "Heaven and Hot Rods," the second cut, another blazer that moves and keeps on moving, broken only by a psychedelic breather of a bridge before blasting back.

It's not all thrash and burn, however. A few tunes sound as if Weiland dusted off a slew of sixties records and told the rest of the band about it. "Sour Girl," the fifth cut, features a pulsing bass line, guitar runs, and vocals upon vocals that end up sounding like Sergeant Pepper meets Crowded House. It all fits, in a weird way, and lest you think they've gone off the deep end, the following cut is heavy all over again. Yet by the eighth cut, "Glide," you'll be seeing Blue Meanies and having visions of Peter Max spinning in your head.

The end result is a remarkably produced CD, layered like a well-crafted mullet when needed, slamming like a WWF match at other times, or laid back like a lazy summer afternoon. The bulk of the tunes were written by guitarist Dean DeLeo and bassist Robert DeLeo (could they be related? Hmmm), with Weiland composing all the lyrics, and drummer Eric Kretz throwing in the occasional bone. One can only hope that STP will tour soon to promote the CD, since music like this deserves to be heard loud and live. Let's just hope Weiland gets time off for good behavior.

Bush

A quick visit to the band's website provides an interesting quote from vocalist/guitarist Gavin Rossdale. "I didn't want to be content just being a rock guitar band anymore," he states, but if there is anything this CD is, it's a rock guitar CD. It's not like they're layered, or laid back or missing at spots. The guitars are always there, and way up front. Maybe he thinks the myriad synth effects and loops remove the band from the rock guitar arena, or maybe he needs more time off from touring to think. This is rock guitar all the way, heavy, loud, and louder. If Rossdale isn't sure, he should look to Radiohead's OK Computer CD and take notes on the differences.

Ahh, semantics. Despite all the labeling nonsense though, this is a solid effort from the Brits, which, in addition to Rossdale, include band members Dave Parsons (bass), Nigel Pulsford (guitar), and Robin Goodridge (drums). The CD opens with "Warm Machine," a haunting rocker ballad, with dissonant, wavering guitar lines in the verse giving way to thundering, crashing guitars in the chorus. "This is the night/ This is the sound/ Here comes the warm machine," moans Rossdale, and quite frankly, though I'm not quite sure what he's talking about, he sounds sincere, and the tone of his voice is so crestfallen, there's a real sadness here.

The first single, "The Chemicals Between Us," is an up-tempo number, which pulses onward, slightly reminiscent of the Psychedelic Furs. Other notable numbers include "Letting the Cable Sleep," which is a departure from the heavy guitar type songs, featuring a piano up front, strings, and some wacky electronic effects that weave in and out, and "Jesus Online," a heavy song with light lyrics. Despite Rossdale's claim that he's not content with just being a guitar rock band, perhaps he should heed the old adage that if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Bush have been doing it right for a while, and all signs point to continued success. With The Science of Things, a bit of experimentation expands the envelope, but why pop the bubble?

November 1999