Ouch. That was one of the weakest shows from a major rock band Vancouver has seen in a while. Maybe it was because Stone Temple Pilots walked out to a half-empty Coliseum, but to say that the reconstituted ‘90s stalwarts gave even a perfunctory performance would be giving the band the benefit of the doubt.

The cracks were already showing by the third song, “Vasoline”, in which vocalist Scott Weiland and his oddly remote cohorts rendered one of the most genuinely exciting rock singles of its era into a listless and watery thing. It was horrible.

“Heaven & Hot Rods” followed with flubbed notes and an indecisive groove. “Plush” was undone by drummer Eric Kretz, who also goofed up “Big Empty”, and who couldn’t decide on a tempo for “Trippin’ On a Hole in a Paper Heart”. The latter was actually the last song of STP’s encore, so it’s not like he wasn’t warmed up by this point. Worst of all, “Interstate Love Song” received the same level of indifference, with Kretz rushing through his parts, cutting the heart right out of it.

If you were inclined to stand up for Stone Temple Pilots, then you’d probably lead your defence with “Interstate Love Song”. It’s basically a kickass piece of commercial rock music, and far more lovable than pretty much anything Pearl Jam or Alice in Chains ever grunted into existence. STP’s career-long critical drubbing is hardly fair when you factor in songs like that one, or the magnificent “Between the Lines”, from the band’s newest self-titled album. So it was painful to watch STP flailing through something like “Big Empty”, with a beyond-aimless slide solo from guitarist Dean DeLeo that achieved nothing beyond revealing how badly the four-piece could use another touring guitar player.

On the plus side, bassist Robert DeLeo remained unflappable while the drums and guitar searched in vain for each other. And Weiland hit all of his notes, even if he’s as reptilian and cold as he ever was. Perhaps most significantly, while the fans were going gonzo for duff oldies like “Sex Type Thing”, it was material from the fine comeback record that worked best. “Between the Lines” crackled with glam-trash evil, while “Hickory Dichotomy” and “Huckleberry Crumble” both demonstrated how much fun the band can have when it’s pretending, respectively, to be Mott the Hoople or Aerosmith.

On a weirder note, “Cinnamon” is what you get when STP writes a song for an imaginary Boo Radleys album, circa 1992. It shimmered in comparison to the rote sludge of “Wicked Garden” or “Dead and Bloated”. These pleasures were fleeting, mind you. Even the appearance of lighters during “Big Empty” felt mechanical, as if the band’s weird detachment was viral. The only sincere moment of the night was at the end when bassist DeLeo whispered something into Weiland’s ear, and Captain Goodvibes actually managed to muster a smile. But holy shit, talk about too little, too late.

Georgia Straight, November 2010