Vengeance is sweet. Dismissed by some insiders due to vocalist Scott Weiland’s legal issues, and viewed by many critics as a band that rode the coattails of its predecessors, Stone Temple Pilots fired a loud shot across the bow in 1999 in the form of No. 4. Blending the strengths of the quartet’s three prior LPs while marking a return to its hard-rock roots, the platinum-certified record stands as the heaviest and edgiest of the California ensemble’s career. Helmed by the band’s go-to producer, Brendan O'Brien, No. 4 makes a big noise. The thick crunch of the guitars, bang and crash of the drums, fluid textures of the bass, and lingering echo of the studio space are conveyed with newly revealed immediacy, presence, and scope, delivering the music’s punch and power with visceral impact. Despite its back-to-basics nature, No. 4 contains a wealth of colours, dynamics, and subtle accents. Massive riffs drive tracks such as Down, Heaven & Hot Rods, No Way Out, and Sex & Violence, while the pop-streaked Church on Sunday, dreamy Sour Girl, and lush Glide highlight the songwriting chemistry between Weiland and Robert DeLeo.
No. 4 doesn’t shy from dark desires or wallowing despair, with lyrical themes relating to personal loss, chemical abuse, toxic impulses, and desperate struggles. Weiland addresses everything head on without gloss or protective shielding, the painful disclosures, “I used to love me but I hate me now”; “troubled times, when my mind begins to wander to the spoon”; “I got the message but I lost the race”; “son of a bitch, I know what the itch is like”; “keep it away now, motherfucker, keep it away”, jibing with the band’s omnipresent snarl.
Having climbed to No. 6 on the charts, No. 4 may not be Stone Temple Pilots’ most commercially successful effort, but it remains their most uncompromising.
