One-on-One With Stone Temple Pilots Bassist Robert De Leo

UP CLOSE

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Robert De Leo

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UP CLOSE ⭐️ Robert De Leo ⭐️

(Originally published March 9, 2023)

robert de leo

There must be something in the air or the water when it comes to kids growing up in New Jersey. The De Leo Brothers went on to form Stone Temple Pilots in California but, as younger brother Robert says, when he was attending Point Pleasant High School in Ocean County, he breathed music night and day, all kinds of music. He couldn’t get enough of it. When his solo album, Lessons Learned, came out last year, he left off the two Gordon Lightfoot covers he had recorded so the project would more accurately reflect his own personal state-of-mind at the time. Earlier this year, he released both songs. We spoke with the bassist/composer/producer recently and found him entertaining, informational, friendly, intelligent and humorous.

Mike Greenblatt: Real honored to talk to you! I’ve been listening to your music for so long and, although I’ve been a journalist since 1974, we’ve never spoken! 

Robert De Leo: Oh Man! [laughing] Wow, geez, ’74, let’s see, how old was I? I was eight!

MG: It was a total surprise to hear you cover Canadian folksinger Gordon Lightfoot!
RDL:
I grew up with ‘70s music from my older brothers and sisters. My first concert was The Carpenters in 1971 at the Garden State Arts Center in Holmdel. Singer-songwriter stuff has always been the constant thread of my musical life. I look at it this way. Funny, I was just talking to someone yesterday about country music, old country, the real stuff, y’know? We were talkin’ ‘bout how when you’re younger, you don’t really appreciate it. And then you realize the simplicity of country music but underneath that simplicity there’s a complex thing there of melody, lyrics, arrangements. You realize when you get older that wow, I mean, it hits you! Only then do you know what it’s all about. Gordon Lightfoot and Cat Stevens, you could say, raised me, man. Musically. I was purposely keeping things in that area on my solo record. It’s in the acoustic realm. That stuff is always bubbling up to haunt me. Gordon Lightfoot, man, especially him. It’s in how he arranged his compositions and what he was saying in his lyrics. It got through to me. Always.

MG: Yet you left the two songs off your solo debut.
RDL:
Out of respect. I didn’t want to muddy the waters by comparing my music to his. I needed to put out my own songs and let them stand on their own. So I put out the two Lightfoot songs separately just recently. I tried my best to do justice to his songs. I was really into his guitar player, Red Shea [1938-2008] who added so much to Lightfoot’s sound. I sat there for weeks with headphones on trying to figure out exactly what Red Shea was doing.

MG: You did good, man. I know those two songs—“Affair On Eighth Avenue” and Your Love’s Return”—and, man, you distilled their essence while adding your own individuality, which is always the mark of a good cover. Singer Pete Shoulder does a magnificent job. And, speaking of magnificent, your solo album—Lessons Learned—is beautifully done, melodically strong and lyrically profound.
RDL:
Aw, thank you so much.  

MG: The numerous break-up songs are sorta hopeful although tinged with a fair amount of regret. I like the more cynical ones, though, like in “Love Is Not Made Of Gold,” where you call love itself “an illusion/a cruel trick of the light blinding your sight and that warm sweet delusion will soon enough turn cold, crumble and corrode.” Whoah! 
RDL:
[laughing] Yeah, right? It was the very last song I recorded. Those particular lyrics were actually written by Pete Shoulder. He really is an amazing lyricist. I was stuck. I needed one more song. I was running out of ideas and I asked him to chip in some lyrics to a melody I had written. 

MG: Boy, did he ever!  

RDL: He positively nailed what I was going through at the time and what love can oftentimes be. I had a lot of heartbreak in me at the time and he captured that poignancy.  

MG: And that title tune! “Ain’t it strange how life can be and all you believed to be real/You finally got a dose of clarity/Well, this time’s the pain ain’t gonna heal.” Damn! Were you going through a divorce at the time?
RDL:
That’s just me looking in the mirror, I guess. I was going through a lot, that’s all I’ll say. A lot of loss.  

MG: Fair enough.  

RDL: I mean, Covid really shook things up for everyone, man. Not only me. It made me just sit down, grab a pen and paper…and a guitar. 

Once you make the music, it’s kinda out of your hands, man. Then it becomes up to what everybody else makes of it.
— Robert De Leo

MG: True artists always channel their pain into their art. But you’ve looked at life from both sides now, so to speak. You guys were the #1-selling rock band of the 1990s, no?   

RDL: I honestly don’t know. Once you make the music, it’s kinda out of your hands, man. Then it becomes up to what everybody else makes of it. I think so. Maybe. But I’m not sure.  

MG: So you have this tremendous success yet there came a six-year period of silence. During those off years for STP, you were in Army Of Anyone in 2006 with your brother and Filter singer Richard Patrick. I always thought that one album you guys did together was underrated and that the band should’ve lasted longer than just 18 months. I remember reading how it was an amicable split and you all left the door open for another Army Of Anyone album.
RDL:
I liked that record too.  I think it went over people’s heads, though. I don’t think people got it. To me? I’ve always considered it one of the best pieces of work I’ve ever been involved in. To be in a band with Ray Luzier, Richard Patrick and, of course, my brother Dean, was an amazing experience. I would’ve loved to have had the experience of making a second record with that lineup. It was a great creative outlet for me and I look back at it fondly. I mean, it all just came together, man. You get four people and, as you know, sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. Army Of Anyone worked.  

MG: I understand you met Scott Wieland at a Black Flag concert in Los Angeles.   

RDL: Not sure if it was Black Flag. I was living in Long Beach at the time. There was this little hole in the wall there called Fender’s Ballroom. Growing up in New Jersey, I wasn’t really too familiar with the L.A. scene. I remember going to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers there a lot. Black Flag too. Mike Watt [Minutemen] would be around. It was at one of those shows where I met Scott. I was new to the area. So was he. There weren’t many people who were on the same page as I was. The same wave length. But he was. We hit it off immediately. I think there was a sense of alienation we both had at the time. I mean, leaving New Jersey for California, I felt like I was on Mars. It’s such a different world. I was out of my comfort zone. I was flailing about trying to just grasp on to whatever I could, letting the chips fall where they may. I was eager to learn about West Coast ways. I found it exciting.  
MG: So you were from Jersey and Scott was from Minnesota, two hayseeds both now in Cali. No wonder you both gravitated towards each other. And you form a band. That ’92 Core debut was a smash. You’re on the map. You’re off and running. STP becomes an avatar of grunge.  

RDL: I never liked that term. It’s such a silly word. When you have something that people enjoy, somebody has to always put a name on it. We were just making rock’n’roll. We were young and frustrated. Hell, I was living out of my car for a while. I housed a lot of anger within me at the time. I remember that distinctly. So I took that anger and frustration, mixed it in with a little of what I grew up on in Jersey, all I listened to, and it came out like that. Scott was feeling similar thoughts.  

MG: I hear ya. Those sub-genres of rock’n’roll are for guys like me to compartmentalize. I never considered STP a grunge band. More like post-grunge. Like in jazz where the so-called post-bop bands used bebop as but a base to incorporate fusion, swing, etc. STP, similarly, used grunge as a base yet I can also hear alt-rock, classic rock, indie-rock, punk and metal in the stew. It’s what makes STP STP. I mean, ultimately it’s only rock’n’roll and I like it. Hell, you’re not even from Seattle.
RDL:
[laughs] Everyone thought we were! No no, I grew up in Point Pleasant, New Jersey.  

In order to create, you have to digest other sounds. It’s a matter of getting your ears to as much stuff as you can and absorbing it. I did that from an early age on.
— Robert De Leo

MG: What were you listening to when you went to Point Pleasant High School? 

RDL: Everything, man. Just everything. Aerosmith, T-Rex, Ella Fitzgerald, The Hollies, John Denver, Yes, Gentle Giant, Genesis, Rush, Jim Croce, and anything I could get my hands on. I would go down into the basement and grab 78s of Duke Ellington and Henry Mancini. I was like, “holy shit!” And that’s what a musician does in the process of discovery. In order to create, you have to digest other sounds. It’s a matter of getting your ears to as much stuff as you can and absorbing it. I did that from an early age on. I can remember going to the boardwalk with my older sister and listening to her AM radio. I still remember the first time I heard “Brown Sugar” and “Honky Tonk Women.” I loved it! I can remember when I was six. I’m the youngest. I sat in that living room next to that record player discovering The Beach Boys. All those great 45s. Especially “I Get Around.” I’m like, “what?!? What is this?” Brian Wilson’s falsetto still kills me to this day. And I still love “I Get Around.”  

MG: I feel you. I had the same reaction to “96 Tears” by ? & The Mysterians. I was 15. It drove me crazy! 

RDL: [starts singing “96 Tears”] Right! Exactly!  

MG: So STP is headed to South America!  

RDL: Yes. And we just got back from New Zealand. That was amazing.  

MG: You guys have always had an international fan base. Sixteen million records sold in the States yet 40 million worldwide. What is it about this band that resonates so much around the world? 

RDL: Good question. I don’t know. I can tell you this. I’ve always believed it’s in the songs, man. The songs themselves. Songs outlive all of us. Think about the body of work we all grew up on. The artists who affected us all. The songs will live way past you and I. It’s the power of song. And that was always my main intent:  writing the best damn songs I possibly could. 

MG: Plus, I gotta say, your bass playing is also tinged with the people you’ve loved from Chris Squire and Bootsy Collins to Larry Graham. It comes out in your own personal style from the funk to the prog. You’re what I call an intelligent bassist.  

RDL: Don’t forget James Jamerson! 

MG: That’s right! The guy who played on almost every single Motown hit!  

RDL: Jamerson came from jazz. I love rock’n’roll, but, even as a little kid, I’ve always been infatuated with jazz. It’s what I go to when I’m having life issues. I’ll put on some Bill Evans and it’ll all work out for me.  

MG: He’s a Jersey guy too.  Plainfield.  

RDL: Yeah, he is. I have to say that there are a lot of really amazing people who have come out of New Jersey, man.  

MG: Everybody from Queen Latifah, Dionne Warwick, Whitney Houston, Count Basie, Sarah Vaughan, Sinatra, Joe Walsh, Debbie Harry, Bucky Pizzarelli, the first two Metallica albums, the first hiphop hit “Rapper’s Delight” by The Sugar Hill Gang, the Hoboken scene, the Asbury Park scene, Newark in the ‘40s being the jazz mecca it was. That’s why Director Fulvio Cecere has almost finished The Jersey Sound documentay, a cinematic idea that I’m amazed no one has yet to film. 

RDL: Yeah, and how ‘bout all the jazz legends who recorded at the Van Gelder Studios in Hackensack… 

MG: …which has since moved to Englewood Cliffs, exactly.   

RDL: Y’know, I became friends with the photographer Jim Marshall before he passed and, man, he was always in the right place at the right time, He shot John Coltrane in Hackensack! 

MG: The more I research music and the artists who called Jersey home, the more fascinating it becomes. And it’s so cool to have you as part of this Jersey project. But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t ask you more about Scott Wieland. You had to fire him in 2013.  

RDL: [pause] I felt awful. But, y’know, you simply cannot control the path of some people. There are those who have their own path no matter what you do or say. Scott was released from Velvet Revolver. He was released from us. His path was not the path we were all taking. Ultimately, the path he took led him to where he is today.  

MG: Dead.  

RDL: It was awful to watch. It was a very long, lengthy suicide. It sucks, I know. It sucks to see people go down that road. We were left holding the bag. But the thing is, my brother, myself and [drummer] Eric [Kretz] just always wanted to play these songs. It’s fun. The songs are fun to play. It’s fun to go out and play! Period. People seem to like these songs.   

MG: That’s an understatement.  

RDL: Well, y’know, humbly speaking, I know people like hearing these particular songs. And we enjoy playing them. These songs are a major part of our lives. Songs attach themselves to your life. A bond is formed. And that’s the fun part. That’s all I can say in describing what we do.  

MG: So that same year, 2013, you hire Chester Bennington away from Linkin Park.  

RDL: Correct. He grew up as a huge listener of STP. He was living in the same town as I was. I kinda reached out to him, asked what he was up to, and asked him to jam with us. Have some fun. And, boy did he ever! He loved it. And we loved having him. The short time he was in the band was one really great time. We got on good together. We did a lot of laughing. We hung out before and after shows. To be perfectly honest, I can’t quite figure out still to this day how that led to where he ended up.  

MG: Dead. 

RDL: But with him, unlike Scott, I never saw that downward spiral. I never observed any of that behavior. He was a great friend… 

MG: …who opted to rejoin Linkin Park.  

RDL: That’s when we put the word out for a new singer. Ten thousand people responded. Eric, Dean and I proceeded to go through every single submission. Might’ve been 15 thousand people. Maybe even 20 thousand people.   

MG: Holy shit.  

RDL: Yeah, it was a LOT of people. Took a few months. We narrowed it down to 10 or 15. And still we didn’t hear it. Sure, there were some who were close, but, man, it was tough. Some were really great. But still. Funny thing, Jeff [Gutt] wasn’t part of all that. He came out of nowhere! So after we did all that, we hired Jeff in 2017.  

MG: And he fits like a glove.  

RDL: Yeah, he really represents the songs so well! 

MG: Yeah, I’ve always said a good singer should be in service to the song. It’s not the other way around. And he fills that role admirably.  

RDL: Thank you, yes, I think so too. We made the right choice. He’s a great person too. Reliable. He shows up on time. And he sings great. It’s so important just to fucking show up. [laughs] I had this same talk with Dave Grohl. Dave’s the type of guy who  shows up. Period. Hey, that’s all you gotta do, man. Show up. Do your job.
MG: Last Question:  is there a Jersey sound? 

RDL: Honestly, I don’t think so. Jersey goes from Springsteen to Les Paul. It’s so sonically different. But I think it would be fun to be part of that documentary you were mentioning. I’ll be in touch. 

Mike Greenblatt

MIKE GREENBLATT has been writing for Goldmine magazine and New Jersey's Aquarian Weekly for more than 35 years. His writing subjects fill the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

He's interviewed Joe Cocker, Graham Nash, David Crosby, Carlos Santana, Bruce Springsteen, Paul McCartney, Johnny Cash, and members of The Rolling Stones and The Beatles. He was 18 when he attended Woodstock in 1969.

In addition to writing about music, Greenblatt has worked on publicity campaigns for The Animals, Pat Benatar, Johnny Winter, Tommy James and Richard Branson, among others. He is currently the editor of The Jersey Sound.

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