Teargarden track "Freak" jolted us out of our "Drown"-induced dream-world, pulling us from the former signature spacey Pumpkins sound to a bouncy pop tune, which, if compared to prior Pumpkins songs, would most closely resemble 1996's "Transformer," a B-side to Mellon Collie's "Thirty-Three."
The set list was doused with singles, which ultimately makes sense considering it the show was hosted by a radio station, but missing from the mix were worthy non-singles from the Pumpkins' vault. Also, it was eerily similar to the band's show in September at Warehouse Live.
"It smells like weed and puke in here," Corgan randomly announced. Such a crass image unsuitably led us into the graceful acoustic "Landslide," Corgan trading in his signature Stratocaster for an acoustic guitar, splitting finger-picking duties with Schroeder.
Though it's been admittedly difficult for seasoned Pumpkins fans to watch new members deliver the band's hits, each member performed soundly on the mark. Corgan in particular appeared cohesively rockin', good-spirited and eager to flaunt his guitar virtuosity.
A handful of classic Pumpkins singles, including "Ava Adore," "Tonight Tonight," "Cherub Rock" and "Zero," were all well-received by the crowd, while Machina ballad "Stand Inside Your Love" reminded us of the overlooked tracks that may not have been popular singles, but aptly display Corgan's intensely beautiful songwriting.
Curiously, it was during this song - once stripped of its distortion, a deeply candid love song - when a couple of adventurous fans chose to crowd-surf. Those watching the front man closely awaited the inevitable scolding Corgan was bound to deliver. And he did.
"This isn't the 90s," Corgan snapped. "Do you want the 90s? 'Cause I'll go '90s on you and hit you with my guitar if you crowd-surf again." Though we were among those cheering in support of the era, we had to agree.
Corgan seems to be determined not to revisit the past, apparently convinced his fans are clinging to old news, but it seems he might be missing the point. Any beef fans have expressed toward Corgan's new songs may not be simply because they exist, but because of their inability to contend with the "classic" Pumpkins catalog. We realize artists don't want to exclusively live in the past, but if Corgan doesn't want comparisons, he shouldn't carry over the Pumpkins' name.
After a fiery delivery of Mellon Collie's "Zero," the band exited the stage. Eventually, a chant developed, as fans feverishly shouted "Bill-y! Bill-y! Bill-y!," a telling move that revealed how many fans view this band: As Corgan and his for-hire bandmates.
This may be grounds for the popular argument that Corgan "is" and always "was" the Smashing Pumpkins, regardless of the rest of the lineup, we struggle to remember ever hearing crowds in years past chant Corgan's name solo.
Having seen the Pumpkins steadily and extensively since 1994, we don't remember ever feeling the band was constructing a façade of in-your-face light spectacles and over-the-top volume, as was the case on Sunday. It seemed like smoke and mirrors; quite literally like an aging man countering a mid-life crisis by purchasing a bright red sports car.
Now, we are not poking fun or pointing fingers at the inevitable: Corgan has aged, times have changed. The band has undoubtedly taken some beatings over time, but Corgan has endured.
We not only support this but also applaud the musician for venturing on, for fighting for his right. However, the reasons we adored the original Pumpkins was in great part due to the band's rapport: Their chemistry, aura and emotion.
