About book Not Dead & Not For Sale: A Memoir (2012)
I had carefully avoided reading this for some time, not wanting anything to mar the fantasy relationship I have carried on with a fantasy version of Mr. Weiland for many, many years.Three cold hard facts I was specifically hoping to avoid:1.) cruel or whiny junkie antics generously romanticized in sonic form (e.g. "Interstate Love Song", "I Got You") that make you realize he is kind of a jerk when spelled out in book format.2.) the inescapable conclusion that Weiland thinks STP lyrics are super deep/irreverent/sensory/ironic instead of realizing they're a little dumb ("Creep") and tripped out ("Wet My Bed") and being okay with the simplicity of that.3.) the book's eye-roll inducing subtitle "The Earthling Papers".The book brought it in each of these categories (which is to say, sigh, my heart is slightly broken), but the precise reason I'm giving this memoir a low rating is because the content was often sketchy and disjointed. To me, vagaries defeat some of the purpose of publishing a memoir for a curious public to understand and enjoy, though they say something in form (accurately capturing the flow of an artsy brain that has abused drugs for a long, long time?). For instance, this is an entire paragraph beginning and ending an anecdote: "Down in New Orleans, we found ourselves in the wrong neighborhood in the wrong hotel but were too dumb to know. We kept partying." Why wasn't the ghost writer prodding for more -- how was it "wrong"? In what manner were you "partying"? Why is he no longer naive about the experience? The excerpt says little in a horribly boring way, and the gaps aren't limited to the micro -- there is an astounding amount left unsaid about bigger topics upon which it is reasonable to expect elaboration, such as: 1/4th of his band, drummer Eric Kretz / how becoming a parent has affected him / what it is like to front a major band / etc.The tale leaves off with Weiland and his long-time paramour Mary Forsberg on the outs, followed by 20 creepy collage pages, mostly of their personal snapshots, in what is hard not to read as a reconciliation attempt. And, though I've surely made 20 creepy Scott Weiland collage pages in some kind of an initial-concile attempt, I was probably sixteen when I did it. That's the bummery feeling this book leaves me with: he seems stuck at somewhere around age 16 within. I generally love biographies about talented musicians. Even though his group often got lumped in with all the grunge bands, I always thought there was something special about Stone Temple Pilots - their hooks, melodies and production had a great pop craftsmanship that most of those other bands just didn't have. But his autobiography is weak and vacuous (literally - there's a lot of white space in the book, like a high-schooler doing an essay using 16-pt. double-spaced font). There are a few mildly entertaining drug stories, but not much about the great music his band did. I expected a lot more.
Do You like book Not Dead & Not For Sale: A Memoir (2012)?
Probably the only hard-core drug addict to find any success, besides Steven Tyler. Love STP!!
—chikie
Very deep, touching, behind the scenes look at my favorite living rocker of the 90's
—Hooey74
It explains a lot about why Scott is the way he is...
—Boo
