The seasons have changed and its the month of December again.Its my favorite month of the year. There is this white stillness all around. Beautiful, cold and strong.It always reminds me that I belong deeply to myself alone. So Camus says’In the depth of winter, I realized that within me lay an invincible summer’.
That makes me think of Scott Weiland who died two days back. An absolutely stunning frontman with huge stage presence, he was a very important part of my 1990’s. There was an edgy sexiness and charm to Scott that resonated in the raw part which we all have within ourselves.
I loved Scott Weiland in Stone Temple Pilots, with ‘Tiny Music….Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop’ being my favorite album. When the rock supergroup ‘Velvet Revolver’ formed in 2004 with Scott fronting it, I listened to him deep into the nights of what was a year of revelations for me in terms of love and relationships. While I thrilled to the sinuous power of ‘Slither’, it was that tortured ,gut- wrenching ballad ‘Fall to Pieces’ that played in my mind repeatedly.
But the demons he battled overcame him. Shattered by drug abuse, this man caved in to the dark winter of his being.Perhaps he felt too deeply? In his memoir, ‘Not Dead & Not for Sale’, he says “I see love, like art, as an obsession. Maybe that’s an overly romantic view of human existence, but I’m an overly romantic human being. If love, like rock and roll, doesn’t consume me 24-7, it’s not love. It can be respect, appreciation, admiration, wonderment, it can be a world of glory and a lifetime of peace, but I can’t call it love. Love burns me and confuses me. Love’s a light that can’t be extinguished”.
Here is a brief look at his life in pictures:http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/scott-weiland-a-photo-history-of-his-wild-life-20151204
This is the performance of his, in 2000, that is most dear to my heart. He is filling in, most marvelously , for that great love of mine, Jim Morrison. I must say that it requires real guts and belief in one self and one’s music to attempt this !
RIP Scott. Fly high , man!
And on a cold, winter December night here in New Delhi, I remember this and smile.
”Not forever does the bulbul sing
In balmy shades of bowers,
Not forever lasts the spring
Nor ever blossom the flowers.
Not forever reigneth joy,
Sets the sun on days of bliss,
Friendships not forever last,
They know not life, who know not this” ( Khushwant Singh, ‘Train To Pakistan)