THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, September 2, 1994 TAG: 9409020072
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E11 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY MICHAEL CULPEPPER, HIGH SCHOOL CORRESPONDENT
LENGTH: Medium: 61 lines
FOR A SHORT while Wednesday night, the scholarly doldrums of William & Mary Hall were uplifted by a flannel-clad, teenaged grunge fest courtesy of pop music's most scrutinized ``alterniband,'' the Stone Temple Pilots.
Already snubbed by critics for their marketability, STP showcased a lesser publicized aspect of the band: their music. After all, it's the music, not the image, that has reached multiplatinum success for both of their albums, ``Core'' and the new ``Purple.''
Opening the sold-out show was the thunderous Jawbox, whose 30-minute playlist set the stage for the evening's second-most anticipated band, the Meat Puppets. The Phoenix-based band played 13 songs, including their hit ``Backwater'' and two songs they had performed with Nirvana on MTV's Unplugged (Plateau and Lake of Fire). Besides lending a folk flavor to the evening, the Meat Puppets added fresh bodies to the mosh pit, which was already the size of a basketball court.
During intermission, the pit below the stage was becoming restless. Cups, toilet paper and other debris littered the stage; even the crowd was bathing in concession garbage. Just when the crowd reached its peak of frenzied animosity, the lights were dimmed for the main attraction.
The wandering guitar feedback of STP's new single, ``Vaseline,'' was left lingering in the dark hall until the four-man group finally ignited the stage. As guitarist Dean DeLeo ripped through the song's opening power chords, the stage was illuminated by two towering lava lamps as tall as flag poles. Also wowing the crowd was a light display rivaling that of a Pink Floyd show. The psychedelic mood and strobe light feathered the entranced crowd who had not expected such an exotic atmosphere.
As if to retaliate for the competing aesthetics, singer Scott Weiland addressed the crowd like a circus announcer and belted out ``Silver Gun Superman,'' a track from the new album.
By this time, the adoring crowd took to throwing flannels, hats and sandals on stage instead of trash. Within two songs, the elaborate set had become a virtual thrift store. It also became a nuisance when a stray watch hit Weiland, who verbalized his anger to the crowd. ``If you want to throw stuff, why don't you go outside and throw darts or something?''
One of the highlights of the evening was an acoustic set performed while lounging on grand Victorian furniture. It included such originals as ``Pretty Penny,'' ``Creep'' and a David Bowie song called ``Andy Warhol.''
The guitars were plugged in again for a blistering set of tracks from their new album. The grooves of DeLeo and brother, bassist Robert DeLeo, provided an elementary, yet harsh cadence for a Weiland croon-over and Jim Morrison-esque swagger about the stage.
Other choice cuts were the popular ``Big Empty,'' ``Plush'' and the punk anthem ``Unglued.'' Closing the show were the first two tracks off their first record: ``Dead and Bloated'' and ``Sex Type Thing.''
As if to extricate themselves from the corporate Seattle abyss, STP emerged from the performance a solitary and soulful entity. Living with the label of ``grunge'' may be the only roadblock between them and critical acceptance. But until then, they will remain stuck, like ``flies in the Vaseline.'' MEMO: Michael Culpepper is a rising senior at Kellam High. by CNB