GROUND CONTROL to MAJOR WEILAND

“It really doesn’t have any significant story to it. It’s just an interesting contradiction in the words that make it up. It just sounded appealing.”

Scott Weiland, singer with the Stone Temple Pilots, is explaining how the band got its name. Meaningless it may be, but today the band’s name is slightly ironic. The lack of any aviatory significance is obvious just looking at Weiland lying on the couch, knackered. Ladies and gentlemen, today your Pilot is . . . jet-lagged. Three days after arriving in Dublin. “I’m sorry,” he yawns. “It usually takes me about five days to recover.”

The band are touring their latest album Purple, which is the follow-up to their debut Core. The latter got a very mixed reception in critical quarters, but to date has sold upwards of four million units, and has scooped numerous awards, including a Grammy and a couple of Billboard honours. The fact remains, however, that Stone Temple Pilots were written off by many as mere Pearl Jam copies, with Weiland coming in for his fair share of stick regarding his Vedderesque tones. It was imperative, then, for Purple to avoid such accusations – to be a Pearl Jam dodger so to speak – if STP were to avoid slipping into the critical dumper for good.

In the main, it has succeeded. Eddie & Co have been mentioned less, even if the album still doesn’t show a really distinctive STP sound emerging. That said, though, even if it isn’t going to set the world on fire, or change the face of rock ’n’ roll, very few records do. Purple, on its sleeve, promises “Twelve Gracious Melodies”, and that’s what you get – eleven by the band themselves, and a twelfth “hidden” track. Most of the songs weld distorted guitars to bloody good tunes, with Weiland drawling over the top in a voice that could only be mistaken for Seattle’s Mr Pretentious by someone with serious wax build-up.

Still, Purple, being the band’s second album, might have been expected to give them second album blues. But this wasn’t the case, according to Weiland.

“Artistically, not at all,” he states, emphatically. “There were some tensions in the group, which is normal within every type of family, whether it be a family of friends, or lovers, or siblings. But artistically there wasn’t any of that second album blues thing. It was really a sort of therapeutic experience.”

What about the lyrics? Are there any main themes to the fore on this album?

“See, I always write lyrics about personal feelings that I’m having at the time – About thoughts or trials or tribulations, or whatever. It might just be a silly little piece of worthless information that flies in through my head, that has some kind of significance to me, but absolutely none to anybody else.”

He goes on to explain that this isn’t a calculated strategy, but simply the way things usually turn out.

“I’ve always admired people like Bob Dylan – who I think is one of the most lyrically creative people ever – but at this stage in my life I guess I feel more comfortable writing about my own experiences. Anyway, every time I try to tell a story it ends up being a story more about my experiences, than those of the character that I’m supposed to be writing about.”

Considering Weiland’s approach to writing, does he think that people try to read too much into lyrics?

“Well, I guess you could say that,” he agrees. “But that’s partly the fun of getting next to a particular album – wondering if what you’re taking out of the so-called meaning is the same thought that the writer was thinking. I think that lyrics and poetry should all be left up to each individual’s interpretation – I mean, that’s why art is so beautiful.”

When listeners link STP lyrics too directly with Weiland’s character they tend to come to the conclusion that he’s a bit of a grumpy old bastard, which is something that bothers him slightly.

“When I’m writing lyrics, for some reason I tend to write about things of a deeper mood, or just a darker shade of things – I usually just don’t do a lot of writing when I’m totally joyous and shouting around the town with glee. So a lot of times I think there’s been this image painted of me as this morose individual.”

Far from morose, Stone Temple Pilots’ gigs have a bit of a reputation for being, well, not recommended for the faint-hearted. This is not something that their singer is particularly proud of – indeed he has often complained in the past about the testosterone-fuelled antics of some of their fans. Does he feel that they’re more interested in going mental, than actually listening to the music?

“Yeah, it seems like that sometimes,” he sighs. “Y’know, it’s hard for me to judge the overall mentality of a crowd of people, but it just seems that a lot of people are conditioned by MTV and what they see in films about their so-called generation, to act a certain way. So everyone’s expected to go to rock shows and mosh, or whatever. Then, a sort of violent crowd mentality prevails, and you have people getting injured, and sometimes you just seem to reach a point where it’s counter-productive to what the whole operation is meant to be about.”

It is around one of these riotous occasions that probably the most interesting Stone Temple Pilots yarn revolves. The basic plot involves some bloke in the audience getting a bit too rowdy, being jumped by the band (with Weiland leading the charge), getting wrapped up in guitar strings, and finally being pissed on by all four members. So, how does the defendant plead?

“I don’t know where that one came from actually,” he laughs. “Though, anyone who would just stand there and let people wrap him up in guitar strings deserves to be pissed on.”

At this point he’s grinning as if he hasn’t heard this one in a while. Well, it’s a total fabrication, then, is it?

“Well, I mean, part of it’s true,” is the rather economical-with-the-truth reply.

“There was this guy who threw something at Robert, after we had warned that we were going to stop the show, because the bands on before us were being pelted with rocks and bottles. It was a real violent crowd. This was in Boston, and unfortunately the promoter let people bring in their own beer. You can imagine what could happen in a situation where there are six thousand young people with coolers full of beer bottles.

“So anyway, bottles were flyin’ all over the place, so I stopped the song. Then I saw this particular guy throwing another bottle, so I called him up to the front where the bouncers were, thinking that they would pull him out and, er . . . throw him out the, er . . . exit way. But they didn’t do it, so I went down there and there was a brief shouting match before I was pulled away by our tour manager. Then, there was a short scuffle with the security guards, and I guess he bumped his head on a barricade, or something. I really have no idea where the guitar string part came from.

“Y’know, I’m no different from any other kid who goes to a rock show,” Weiland concludes. “I sleep, and I shit and I fuck just like . . . Oh, and I wrap people up in guitar strings and piss on them . . . just like everybody else does.”