Smashing, Pumpkins?

I wrote a long-form essay on The Smashing Pumpkins and my Complicated Relationship to them. Here it is below:

“It couldn’t be any worse than the name of the band.” —D’arcy, referring to the “pretentious” title of their new album, “Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness.”

Is there anything wrong with making an album that appeals to the 10-17 age group? I say no, if the results are an album like “Mellon Collie.” Sure, it’s long-winded. And sure, it’s got a silly title. But when you’re 10-17, your emotions are nothing but long-winded and silly. There’s nothing wrong with making a piece of art that speaks to a certain age group, especially if you mean it.

I’ve read some article or something, somewhere, at some point in the last five years (vague, I know, but I really can’t remember where I read it) where Billy Corgan explained Mellon Collie as a concept album about teenage angst. Well sure! It’s like the “day in the life of a 15 year old.” And when you’re 10, you’re thinking “I’m just starting to share some of these feelings, this album is speaking to me in a way I won’t fully understand for a couple of years.” And when you’re 15, you’re listening to “Zero,” you’re listening to “Tales of a Scorched Earth” and you’re thinking “this is me.”

So it’s obvious why the “new” Smashing Pumpkins inspires Ire and Contempt and other Big Emotions. When you ignite a fire in a 15 year old, that fire is going to be very, very precious to the 30 year old they grow up to be.

I can’t explain why my Smashing Pumpkins “fire” took a very long time to go out. I think it’s because instead of relating solely to what Corgan was saying, I started to relate to what Corgan was doing. He was making albums about very very specific feelings and he wasn’t compromising in a vision of an album that dealt with very specific things. He was putting a song like “Spaceboy” on an album like “Siamese Dream.” He was putting songs like “Beautiful” on an album like “Mellon Collie.” He was making “Adore.”

The fans already started to hop off the train on “Adore” because he was making an album that dealt with a set of emotions that went over the heads of the fans who were now 17-18. They were still at the tail-end of the adolescent sexual angst avalanche, and they weren’t ready for an album about “death” and “mortality” and “growing up.” They wanted an album that was suffused in life, in living, in never getting older— and that’s what “Mellon Collie” and “Siamese Dream” were about, and that’s why they were so brilliant. That’s why starting a song with “the world is a vampire” wasn’t stupid. It really nailed it.

But “For Martha” and “Once Upon A Time” also ‘nailed’ it, but they were nailing things that teenage fans weren’t aware needed nailing. A song like “Once Upon A Time” were speaking to people like my Dad when his Mom died and left him, maybe a little earlier than he thought, an orphan. It was speaking to really raw emotions that he was old enough to feel so, so intensely. I swear that song still puts mist in his eyes. But to a 17-year old? It doesn’t really make sense yet. ”Where are the guitars?” “Where is the solo?” “What is this about?”

As a matter of fact, it’s really because of my Dad that I got in to the Smashing Pumpkins. It was my Dad who bought the “1979” single, not me. And as a family, we played the fuck out of that single. And that single is interesting because it’s a very subdued set of songs. They’re very minimal (at least in relation to Mellon Collie), more like “To Forgive” than “Jellybelly.”

So I had a different entry point than a lot of the angrier, louder Pumpkins fans. I was able to tolerate Zeitgeist because I was willing to accept it for what it was (a rock album with only rock songs). But I also knew to judge it by the songs that were released around it. Just like listening to “The Aeroplane Flies High” gave you a more complete perspective of “Mellon Collie” and “Pieces Iscariot” gave you a wider perspective of “Siamese Dream,” Zeitgeist was made (a tiny bit) stronger by what wasn’t included. It proved that Billy Corgan wasn’t incapable of writing songs that had more range that “amps to 11.”

I’m not defending the decision to omit a song like “Stellar” from “Zeitgeist,” because I think “Stellar” is evidence that Billy Corgan never “lost it,” and just a liiiitle bit more range to the tone on Zeitgeist would have helped it’s stature enormously.

But it wouldn’t have helped completely, because the adults or near-adults that loved “Mellon Collie” were always going to hold it too dear to ever really give it enough of a chance.

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I actually posted the above video with the intended statement: “I miss the old Pumpkins.” Because it’s true, as much as Billy might deny their Import on the Music, they were a unit, a tight unit, and also an Image that was just as important. There’s not enough humor in the Pumpkins now, because it’s Only Billy. Only Billy is allowed to speak these days. Seriously, who ever sees, or cares, or even knows the name of their Bass player now? Or their new guitarist? They’re all just as talented as Iha or D’arcy were, but they aren’t allowed to show their personalities enough to count for anything.

When I say “I miss the Old Pumpkins,” I mean that I miss that old band, who all had a voice, a personality. The Smashing Pumpkins used to be a group of people who all had something to say. And “Teargarden By Kaleidyscope” is always going to suffer because it’s too much of One Man’s singular vision.

Then again, it’s also going to suffer because it isn’t speaking to any age group. It’s speaking to no set of emotions, adult or otherwise. ”Gish” might not have had a conceptual underpinning, but there was at least enough of a statement there (we’re a band, we’ve got something to say, listen UP!”) that it could still connect. ”Teargarden” is the sound of one lonely old man who doesn’t understand why no one “understands” him, why everybody “hates” him. Billy Corgan has adopted this stance of “the average Smashing Pumpkins fan hates me.” We don’t hate you, Billy Corgan, but we at least ask you to understand why we appreciate the older work you’ve done, why we don’t appreciate you calling D’arcy a “mean spirited drug addict,” why we don’t like you throwing Jimmy Chamberlin under the train.

And especially, when you’ve run out of everyone else to tar-and-feather, why you then insist on insulting your fans, assuming that there isn’t anyone who appreciates you. If you tell your admirers that they’re assholes, they’re going to start to think the same of you.

And if you make music that’s so entirely for yourself that not one single human being on Earth can find an entry point to it, then you’re going to lose some respect. It’s simple. (And this is coming from someone who does make music, so the argument of “well they’re just a critic, what do they know about art?” is moot.)

So what I mean by all this is really, “I miss the Old Pumpkins.” They didn’t get mad at me when I listened to them. They didn’t insult me for going to their shows. They appreciated me, and they spoke to me. We had a relationship that spanned some important, formative years, we grew up a little together, we had ups and downs. And we didn’t tell each other to fuck off the moment we had a disagreement.

But kind of most of all, we weren’t afraid to enjoy ourselves. “Mellon Collie” ends with the song “Farewell & Goodnight.” It’s a lullaby, with a reprise of the Mellon Collie theme at the end. It’s nice, it’s really genuine, it’s a reminder that “it’s okay,” that we can go to sleep and forget about all that ‘Vampire’ nonsense, tomorrow is another day.

After all, if the world really is a vampire, isn’t it nice to think that we’re not alone in that?

ADDENDUM: Here’s a funny one liner by Smashing Pumpkins fanblog Hipsters United about the above essay.