Scott Weiland

Scott Weiland sounds free on his latest solo album, "Happy" In Galoshes. He's completely unshackled creatively, and he's made some of the best tunes of his career because of that freedom—going from grunge poet laureate to veritable legend. A charismatic, edgy and mysterious genius, Weiland's the kind of rockstar that they don't make anymore. Happy seesaws between smoky noir-ish subject matter and undeniably beautiful dream pop. In essence, it's the best '60s record to drop in 2008, and Weiland has unabashedly embraced his influences to the fullest. However, he goes beyond the template constructed before him, and he creates something that's his own. Isn't that what he's always done though? Velvet Revolver ventured beyond hard rock's confines, and Stone Temple Pilots left an indelible mark on alternative rock. So, it makes sense that, on this solo offering, Weiland would go the extra mile.

At heart, this is a road record. The first track, "Missing Cleveland," longs for winter with a buoyant rhythm and syncopated groove. Meanwhile, Weiland's voice sails over the music, proclaiming himself, "A dreamer." It's a catchy little rumination on loneliness, and Weiland doesn't fail to hypnotize. Elsewhere, "Arch Angel" beckons Christmas to come. Crooning about "Harmonizing Bing Crosby," he paints a vivid picture, lyrically longing for home. The song allows the listener closer to the enigmatic frontman than ever before.

"Beautiful Day" grabs attention through dreamy, vaudevillian beats. Vocally, Weiland employs a smoky croon that simultaneously brandishes a Broadway bombast and subtle vulnerability. Strange electronics kick off "Crash," before that unmistakable voice takes the wheel and steers the song into the realm of pure aural ecstasy. The chorus is one of the best on the record, and Weiland shows that he can still write a hook with the best of them. "She Sold Her System" segues from trip-hop textures into an epic melody. Weiland doesn't leave anything out—pulling from everywhere he can to make the best songs he possibly can.

Weiland's latest offering rocks when it has to, but it also features some true introspection on his part. However, for once, he does sound Happy, and the audience should be too.

—Rick Florino
12.01.08

Scott Weiland is just a little too enamored of his tortured soul, titling his long-delayed second solo album Happy in Galoshes, a rather convoluted reconstruction of only being happy when it rains (he truly is a creature of the '90s). And the truth is, if anybody had reason to indulge in a little miserableness, it's Weiland, who once again suffered through a year that would have knocked out the knees of mere mortals, losing a brother, losing a wife, then trudging through the last days of his supergroup, Velvet Revolver. All this turmoil roils underneath the surface of Happy in Galoshes, which follows his underrated solo debut, 12 Bar Blues, by a full decade, but the perennial Weiland problem remains: all that angst seems to be an excuse for the songs, as the pain never fully inhabits the music. As pop problems go, this is pretty minor; after all, what matters is the sound of the record, and Weiland always has shown an enduring gift for candied psychedelic and fizzy glam hooks. This gift was submerged during Velvet Revolver, who always swung for the fences just a bit too hard, so it's a bit of relief for everybody to hear him just settle back and play pop. It's a relief for listeners but also for Weiland, who gets to try more different sounds than on any record since...well, 12 Bar Blues, which this is a virtual remake of, right down to his strange affection for Tom Waits-ian Germanic stomps. Happy in Galoshes isn't quite as textured or bright as 12 Bar Blues -- the smaller budget is evident in its muted colors as well as Weiland's sleepy delivery -- but it has the same emphasis on churning psychedelia and clomping glam, epitomized by the lead single, "Missing Cleveland," and punctuated by dragging dirges like the Floydian "She Sold Her System" (say it out loud fast; it's almost as funny a pun as Britney Spears' "If U Seek Amy"). Weiland stumbles occasionally, most notably on a ham-fisted dance-rock cover of Bowie's "Fame" (he has worn his idol worship more blatantly and better elsewhere), but he also has a couple of neat left turns here in the terrific barbed Elvis Costello-ish pop of "Blind Confusion" and the breezy bossa nova beat of "Killing Me Sweetly." That kind of self-conscious yet curiously effective eclectic construction of sound has been Weiland's strength, so it's too bad that it gets wrapped up in an angst that might be real but is never quite convincing. Fortunately for listeners, Weiland's plumbing of his soul always tends to be a little cryptic and now that it's delivered largely in a murmurs here, it's easy to shut off and enjoy his pop gifts, which remain overlooked and prodigious. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide