I heard someone once say that you’re favorite style of music
for the rest of your life is what was being played while you were in high
school. That may prove doubly true for
me, since I didn’t even start listening to modern music until high school. The 80s for me were wrapped up in Oldies
(from my dad) and CCM (from my mom).
Nirvana was as much as revolution for me as I ever really experienced,
and within a couple of years, I was not only listening to grunge and
post-grunge nearly exclusively, but also playing guitar and trying to grow a
Kurt Cobain haircut.
And that was after he died, by the way. I got into modern rock in 1994, and by my
graduation in 1996, I had amassed a ton of 90s music.
One of the main bands in that collection was Stone Temple
Pilots. Grunge wasn’t always known for
good musicianship, but STP was a notable exception. Rob DeLeo is my primary influence as a bass
player, and I gain an appreciation for Dean’s guitars as I was learning the
instrument. He hides a lot of cool stuff
behind his distortion, and you may not notice if you don’t know what you’re
looking for.
These guys were a constant soundtrack for me in those days,
and I get strong sense-memories every time I listen to one of those old
albums. I recall video games I was
playing at the time, areas of town where I delivered pizzas, my high school, my
loneliness, my speech tournaments, and on and on it goes.
Hearing of STP frontman Scott Weiland’s death this morning
struck up the same memories. I put on Shangri-La
Dee Da, which I actually didn’t hear until less than ten years ago, but had
become probably my favorite of theirs.
“Wonderful”
I hovered around the song “Wonderful” for a while, listening
a couple of times. Since my first listen
through this album, this one had been my favorite. I listen to music maybe differently than a
lot of people. I don’t really notice the
lyrics for a while. I listen for the
different instruments and melodies, and in particular (when listening to STP)
Rob’s bass. This song has an amazing
bassline, and that normally draws my attention.
But listening to Scott sing “If I were to die this morning”
on the morning I found out he was dead was a little jarring. There are several places on this album where
I find a note of regret, and this is one of the main instances of that. But it’s more notable for the fact that,
while I don’t think this is a deathbed plea, it’s at least someone thinking
about a deathbed plea.
“I wanna ask you to forgive me. I haven’t been the best with all that I had.” The song is sprinkled with a couple of very
profound confessions of wasting time and talent, of misguided priorities. Of losing something that you should have
cherished more.
The Wonder
The last lines amplify what is already a melancholy state
for me this morning, and I want to quote them in full:
You're the everything
That led me to believe,
"Hold on, hold on"
You're the wonder in everything
That's wonderful
That’s more than just a good lyric. That’s getting at something we sometimes
forget. There must be something of
wonder in something wonderful. There
must be something of awe in something awesome.
We use words far too carelessly at times, and when we do so, we
sometimes dull what we should be feeling at it.
Love is wonderful. Let us not
forget to wonder at it sometimes. When
we don’t, we take it for granted. Life
is wonderful. We as a people are so
careless with life that the wonder is left out.
It doesn’t mean that these things are not full of wonder just because we
don’t wonder at them.
And at the end, I can’t help
think that most of us will be left saying, with Scott Weiland, “I think I
spread myself a little too thin.”
We are fearfully and wonderfully
made, created by a God of wonder. And
when the psalmist recounts His wonderful deeds, it should be a signal for us to
not just list off a few of our own, but to reflect on the wonder of them. I’m nearly certain Scott Weiland was not
singing of God in that song, but we do know the Wonder in everything that is
wonderful. He is the Father of lights,
the source of all good and perfect gift, with whom ether is no variation or
shadow of change.
Wonderful.
