Hard Corgan
Smashing Pumpkins bring the machines of God to Lupo's
by Bob Gulla
Billy Corgan
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It's hard to know what's going through Billy Corgan's mind. Shiny
of head and sartorially off-balance, he has recently descended into an awkward
artistic self-consciousness, the same mental state that recently captured
fellow artistes Michael Stipe of R.E.M. and Live's Ed Kowalcyk. New promotional
photos of the band show Corgan looking like the bastard child of Cousin It,
swathed in a seamy-looking Courtney Love dress posing in a dreadfully contrived
manner. One of rock's most majestic bands is now knee deep in an identity
crisis.
Personally, I've always given Corgan the benefit of the doubt. Over the years,
going as far back as 1990, he's written some stunning rock songs: "La Dolly
Vita," "I Am One," "Tristessa," "Siva," "Cherub Rock." These were devastating
indie rock epics equal to the intensity and dynamism of the period's best
material. But 1993's Siamese Dream, one of the best modern rock discs of
the '90s, vaulted the band from underground hopefuls to headlining frontrunners
in the fast-rising orb of alterna-tunes. From there, ego took hold and Corgan
began to stray.
That ego-struck Corgan was in full-flower on March 2 over at Lupo's where the
band played a "secret" club gig in support of their just-released album
MACHINA/The Machines of God. (Though the date had been announced just
two days earlier, tickets sold out immediately on Wednesday morning.) Corgan
led his band -- lead guitarist James Iha, bassist Melissa Auf Der Maur, and
original drummer Jimmy Chamberlin -- through a visceral but poorly paced show
full of new material, peppered with a few standards.
Corgan, looking confident and excited, did his best to present the newer,
unfamiliar material like "The Everlasting Gaze," "Heavy Metal Machine" and "The
Crying Tree of Mercury" with enthusiasm and panache. But the mood felt
strangely gothic, with plodding, protracted rhythms, dark edges, excessive
Dropped D tunings, and surreal, self-consciously arty lyrics. Not that the band
didn't deliver. Auf Der Maur, fresh from her nowhere gig with Hole, looked
great and sounded excellent, holding down a truly propulsive rhythm section
with drummer Chamberlin. Chamberlin, who played on the new album, also seemed
fresh, back to a gig he cherished following a drug-related lay-off. Together,
they prevented the show from flying off its axis into the crisp Providence
night, with tightly wound, focused tempos and dazzling performances.
In fact, in concentrating on the positive points of the band's performance,
the Pumpkins sounded a lot like the indie rock band they started out to be. The
searing vibe felt raw and unstudied, Corgan's slashing chords spontaneous, and
Iha's quirky, piercing fills instinctive and innovative.
But clearly, the band is no longer there. The Pumpkins now stand near the top
of the rockpile, expected to sell millions each time out, expected to rally
thousands at their shows, expected to write hit rock radio tunes, expected to
act and perform like superstars. So, then, what was the raison d'etre
behind their Lupo's performance? Were they pretending? Were they fantasizing?
Were they regretting the journey to mega-stardom they'd been on and wishing
with a wiggle of their collective nose to be back in 1991, before the term
"multi-platinum" made it into their lexicon?
It seemed for a moment that they were. Corgan, blissed out on his own
rambling, stream of consciousness poetry at several points in the night,
enjoyed the creative freedom and leeway of playing to hundreds instead of
thousands. His band had time to stretch out -- often at wearying lengths -- and
explore the possibilities of a new song. The jams, all led by Corgan, didn't
work as well as they might have if the Pumpkins were actually a "jamming" band.
You didn't have to be an expert to figure that out. But watching them wend
their way through some unscripted moments held a modicum of interest.
Overall, the night wasn't a total wash. They opened with David Essex's "Rock
On," which seemed appropriate in setting the mood. They tried unsuccessfully to
control the pace, with rousing moments like "Disarm" and a decent medley of
acoustic renditions. The band's fervor and relative intimacy, when not marred
by Corgan's awkward morality rants came across with power and verve.
Whether you're one of those fans who have already run out to buy the band's
latest album, or whether you can't stand the sight of Corgan's bizarre new
persona, or if you, like me, somehow qualify as both, the Pumpkins night at
Lupo's has at least provided the local music community with something to chirp
about, something that will at least stay in the musical memory banks for longer
than the drive home. And, today, in Providence, that's worth something.
WANDERING EYE. Lon Plynton tells us that his Equal Rites band
will be performing at Jazzmasters on North Main Street every Thursday starting
next week, March 16. Their first gig will also serve as a CD release party for
their diverse new Lucia title. Doors open at 9:30, cover's $5. Check out
their website for free downloads of world-jazz style music:
www.equalrites.iuma. com.
Forgive me for harping on the weekly glories of Stone Soup but the folk music
community in Providence needs boosting whenever possible, plus I'm a fan. This
Saturday, the duet of Kim & Reggie Harris hit the undercroft, with a
pocketful of powerful songs in the vein of Josh White and Pete Seeger. The
Harrises, two of the very few African-Americans travelling the folk circuit,
have been on the road for 20 years. With a wide-ranging repertoire and a
passion for topical material, they've carved themselves a special niche in
American folk music with their work on the black struggle for equality. Their
1998 release, Steal Away; Songs of the Underground Railway, has already
claimed an enduring place in the canon of American folk. The night begins at 8
o'clock in the Undercroft of Gloria Dei Lutheran Church, (15 Hayes Street,
Providence). Admission's a bargain at $8.
If politi-folk ain't your thing, perhaps indie rock is? P-squared Presents
"Thaw Your Booty on the Hott Rock" throughout the month of March, beginning
with a $6 show this Saturday March 11 at the Met. The night features Chicago
rock potentates Dianogah -- two basses and a drummer -- whose new record
is out soon on the infamous My Pal God Records. Also on the bill is the mostly
instrumental Paul Newman, whose new album is on the same label, local
math rockers V for Vendetta, and Trevor and Daniel, the former of
the Weigh Down, the latter of Woken By Wire.
Bob Gulla can be reached at b_gulla@yahoo.com.