Scott Weiland Gone At 48

Fuck. I don’t even have words for the emotions I am feeling at this moment, but I am already sure that this is going to be too long for a Facebook post. On Thursday night, Scott Weiland was found dead on his tour bus by his manager at a stop in Bloomington, Minnesota. This one fucking hurts. It’s hard to explain to impact that Stone Temple Pilots had on me as a teenager growing up in the 1990’s. For some STP’s Core was just another cd that spent time in their walkman, but Weiland’s unique sound, energy, and style inspired me greatly as a high school student fronting a bunch of awful fucking bands.

When I was about 15 years old, I had a friend named Travis who played guitar in one of those awful bands. One afternoon we were having band practice in his living room, and while plugging in his amp I noticed a woman’s leather coat in the closet which reminded me of something Weiland would wear on stage. I grabbed it, and wore it throughout our practice that day. When I was about to leave Travis gave me the jacket which belonged to his mother, who walked out on his family before I met him. That coat would become known in my social circle as my “Scott Weiland jacket” and I wore it for the better part of two years, before it got a giant tear which ended it’s legacy.


I always embraced Scott Weiland as the evolution of the spirit of punk rock. Scott had a style which didn’t fit into any box you tried to shove it into, no matter how you tried to label it. That to me was the embodiment of punk, there were no lines to stay between, just do your own thing and fuck what anyone else has to say about it. That’s pretty much how I’ve lived my entire life, let alone what inspired the clothes I pulled off of racks at thrift stores over the years.

“I am smelling like a rose that somebody gave me on my birthday deathbed.
I am smelling like a rose that somebody gave me cause I’m dead and bloated”

After I stopped singing in bands, I didn’t stop singing randomly around the house, and among my favorites was screaming out the opening lines of Dead & Bloated. My wife is just a little younger than me, and therefore missed out on Core, starting her STP collection with Tiny Music. Unbeknownst to me, she had somehow never heard Dead & Bloated, so when it came on the radio during random car trip around 2008 she exclaimed “Oh my god, that’s a real song?” Blew my fucking mind, and honestly, it still kind of does.


In 2010, while working concert security, I was lucky enough to finally catch STP live, at 93.3 WMMR’s annual MMRBQ festival. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to meet Weiland, and thank him for his influence on my youth. Now, this is the closest I’ll ever come. Thank you Scott for sharing your life with us. Rest easy.