Stone Temple Pilots "Purple" [1994]

Just in case Pearl Jam didn't drive home this point strongly enough (in fact, they did -- it was the only thing of strength they ever managed), the 90s was the decade when hard rock put on the Fonzie jacket and the water skis. Pointless, meandering guitar progressions fronted by a constipated Ragstock model, STP epitomized everything about the era worth taking a big piss on. Tortured-dinosaur effects pedals do not connote playing guitar with feeling, though that was clearly not the point of this genre, especially among major-label douchebags like these guys. What STP was interested in was keeping the wool pulled over everyone's eyes to the fact that grunge was just dressed-down cock-rock until they all became millionaires. Straddling the fence between the dual sonic septic tanks of Collective Soul and The Offspring, "Purple" demonstrates ultimate poseur lead singer Weiland knows he can still sound like total shit without aping Eddie Vedder. Adding insult to injury, apparently not satisfied merely with the cookie-cutter approach of 80s metal without the blow-dryers and constituting the 70s rock album method of cramming the musical contents with horrid filler, STP even tries to pull off off-time 60s tabla garbage, to unintentionally hilarious effect. In short, STP set out to be everything grunge was supposed to be against; but the joke's on us. Had we any brains back in the day, we'd have bought these guys a one-way ticket to Palookaville, where they belong.