It's Twilight and Dusk, Billy

As a formative teenager, I did many things that make me cringe in hindsight. I bleached my hair, which gave me the disgusting orange hue that comes from bleaching black hair at home. I painted my fingernails. I wrote terrible, terrible poetry. One thing that I refuse to feel bad about, however, is my taste in music at the time. Certainly, it set me back a ways (I didn't hear a Sonic Youth song until I was 17) but it also provided a lonely teenage boy without the mental ability to talk to girls an outlet, or a sense of belonging. The three music entities that had the largest effect on my teen years are (in chronological order): The Smashing Pumpkins, Jimmy Eat World, Bright Eyes. One essentially begot the other, with the Pumpkins stemming from my love of metal and the Bright Eyes forum I read leading me straight into Broken Social Scene.

There was a time when I would defend all three of those artists' artistic merit with all the fervor I could muster. Sure, every Pumpkins album was impeccably polished, but that doesn't change the power and raw emotion they embody. Yes, much of Bleed American's lyrics read like a self-help book, but that remains the exact type of encouragement that awkward teen boys need (not to mention the strength of their previous efforts). And of course, Conor Oberst yelps like he's just seen a ghost, but what makes his voice more troublesome than Tom Waits? (also, what makes his lyrics more "emo" than Elliott Smith? Note: I am a huge fan of both Tom Waits and Elliott Smith.)

Of course, age has caused me to rethink my positions more than once, and I have softened a bit on my stances while retaining the main points. Bright Eyes could be pretty grating, and many of his songs come off as petulant and pretentious, but Fevers and Mirrors is still more aurally ambitious and varied than any of his endeavors after it. Jimmy Eat World has been way too teen-friendly with post-Clarity efforts, but it simply allows for an aged appreciation for the back catalog.

However, I've given up on defending Billy Corgan and the Smashing Pumpkins. This resentment actually started back when I was still a huge Pumpkinhead. I began to read items about the band that not only made Corgan out to be ego-maniacal, rude, and all around unpleasant, but also presented the pure, unadulterated angst of his songwriting as fabricated at worst, petty and stupid at best. The more I read, the worse the news became; the other members of the band (besides Jimmy Chamberlin on drums) were chosen as much for their ability to sell the band as their musical ability, Siamese Dream was recorded almost entirely by Corgan himself, they were consistently called out as being careerist and souless by more indie-friendly bands like Pavement. More and more, I began to question what was probably my first real musical love affair.

Then, the real badness began: Zwan, the unacceptable "I reach for Jesus like I reach for ketchup" comment Billy made on MTV, Zwan, the Chicago newspaper ad, Zwan again, the accusations towards James Iha about the breaking up of the bad, Zwan for a final time. If this were a relationship post-breakup, the Pumpkins gained 40 pounds, started dating some bible-thumper, alienated all her friends and got drunk and cried at parties. I wanted to feel bad, I really did.

Understandably, my excitement at the announcement of new Pumpkins material was tempered. As a younger man, it was my only lament that I had never seen them perform live. Now, I was on to more modern concerns, like how awesome the Arcade Fire is, or how I should have heard Guided By Voices way before I did. Still, the news did have an effect, as I began to scour for new information. Who would replace D'arcy and James? Would it sound like older Pumpkins, or newer Pumpkins? Would they tour? The interest was only furthered after hearing the first single off Zeitgeist, "Tarantula", a solid rocker that echoed "Jellybelly" and "Bodies". For the first time since I was 16, I was excited about the Smashing Pumpkins.

That intrigue was brought to a screeching halt today when I learned from Pitchfork that the new album would have four fucking versions, two of those being tailor made for two huge chain stores, Target and Best Buy (whom, despite their Minnesota roots, receive no love from me). Those versions, plus a special iTunes versions, contain a bonus track, while any other retail spot gets the shaft (read: normal version). Much like much of the Pumpkins catalog, there wasn't much to this:

1) To get the full experience, I'd have to spend over $35 for three songs
2) Ain't no way in hell I'm spending $35 for three songs.


Finally, it appears that all the rumors are true. All Corgan wants from this endeavor is a return to commercial viability. All he ever wanted from the Pumpkins was commercial viability. He is the worst rock star in the history of rock stars, not simply because all he wants to be is a rock star, but because he's willing to fake pain and emotion for rock stardom. He's a meaner, uglier Rivers Cuomo, without the failing of a shockingly blatant and personal album to redeem him either. I won't buy a single version of the new album.

Fuck Billy Corgan.