L.A. Times Vegas Show review August 29th, 1996
Smashing Return for Pumpkins
The Troubled Band Resumes Tour in Las Vegas and Loyal
Fans Are Delighted
By ROBERT HILBURN, Times Pop Music Critic
LAS VEGAS--For someone often portrayed in the media as arrogant and calculating, the Smashing Pumpkins' Billy Corgan seemed unusually humble and open as he stood on stage Tuesday at the Thomas & Mack Center arena here. "We haven't had the easiest year . . . but I don't want to talk about that," he said, shifting anxiously in the spotlight. "We just want to say . . . we appreciate your support very much. . . I want you to know that we don't take anything for granted. We certainly don't take you for granted." This may be the land of casinos as large as football fields and buffets that stretch a city block, but it's not one of the premier stops on the rock 'n' roll trail. Normally, Las Vegas is just the name between Salt Lake City and Sacramento on the backs of tour T-shirts.
Not so Tuesday. By the luck of scheduling, Las Vegas became the center of the rock world as the Smashing Pumpkins, one of the defining bands in '90s rock, resumed their national tour here following a six-week break. The traumatic interruption was caused by the July 12 heroin overdose death of keyboardist Jonathan Melvoin, who was with the band for the tour, and the arrest of Pumpkins drummer Jimmy Chamberlin on possession charges. Shaken by the events, the Pumpkins fired Chamberlin, who reportedly had a long history of drug and alcohol addiction, and postponed several concerts while they returned home to Chicago to break in a new drummer, Matt Walker, and keyboardist, Dennis Flemion, to accompany them on the rest of the tour, which includes a series of Southern California dates in December.
Though singer-guitarist-songwriter Corgan is the creative center of the band, any change of personnel could affect the chemistry of the group on stage and cause fan disenchantment. For the Pumpkins, this show was the first formal chance for answers to those questions--and the estimated 7,500 fans in the arena seemed delighted at being at the center of so much attention. Three local radio stations set up promotional booths on the grounds, just off the famed Strip. An MTV camera crew roamed the grounds and Rolling Stone magazine was also represented.
"This has been the biggest thing to happen since Nine Inch Nails played here last year," said Sam Frees, a disc jockey with X-treme Radio, as one station bills itself. "We were flooded with calls when the Pumpkins started postponing dates. They were worried that they might not come here--or might even break up. They're going to give them a heck of a welcome tonight." Sure enough, Corgan and the other original Pumpkins--guitarist James Iha and bassist D'Arcy--didn't have to wait long for an answer about crowd loyalty. As soon as the instrumental strains of the title tune from the Pumpkins' "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness" album began playing in the darkened arena, fans stood and cheered, many holding lighters in salute.
The Pumpkins came on stage with a fury, playing the aggressive rock that has made them one of the key '90s arrivals in American rock, alongside Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Nine Inch Nails. As a writer, Corgan is blessed with remarkable range--able to go from songs that speak about youthful melancholy with the tenderness and beauty of a Brian Wilson ballad to songs as angry and forceful as those of a metal or industrial-rock group.
On this night, Corgan, wearing a black sweatshirt with his trademark "Zero" on the front and silver metallic pants, led the Pumpkins through almost two-dozen songs from their "Siamese Dream" and "Mellon Collie" albums. They played with the intensity of musicians exorcising their own sadness and tension.
"We'll crucify the insincere tonight," Corgan sang early in the set, during an especially moving version of "Tonight, Tonight." "We'll make things right, we'll feel it all tonight." Unlike the rambling jams that seemed as long as rock operas during their appearances at the Tibetan Freedom Concert in June in San Francisco, the music was mostly compact and focused, with Walker and Flemion fitting in quite well. It was a warm and emotional performance that had much of the audience on its feet the entire two-plus hours. Backstage afterward, the shaven-headed Corgan seemed relieved as he sat in the dressing room before hosting a small reception with the band. "We're surprised at how unweird it felt out there," he said. "We worried it might feel creepy or weird or some kind of deflated state, but it doesn't feel like that at all."
Corgan and the band had been so nervous going out with the new lineup that they scheduled a warmup club date in Chicago last Friday. "There's a big difference between rehearsing with a band and going on stage and you never know if someone is going to tweak out. . . . People under pressure can do strange things," he said.
"In the years we played together as the original band, we knew each other so well that we knew what we could and could not do. But the show in Chicago went fine, so we felt good about the musical nuts and bolts part of it before we went on stage tonight." The big concern here was the audience reaction. "The truth is, we were totally open [after the firing of Chamberlin] to the possibility that there may be no audience for us anymore," he said. "It may just be kiddie fear or over-intellectualizing of the situation, but you have to remember we were together so long. We went from having to beg our families to come to the gig to make sure there was someone there to playing before thousands of people around the world. "When you go through that as a unit, you start feeling you are part of some magic bubble or a magic spell. In your weird kind of fear, you start thinking that if you take one person out of that magic combo, it just might destroy the whole thing."
Corgan, 29, said he opted against redesigning the show to make a statement regarding Melvoin's death or Chamberlin's firing because it seemed too self-conscious. He even avoided alluding to it in Chicago. "I made a point of not saying anything because I didn't want to say something that sounded maudlin or corny. We expressed our feelings about Jimmy and Jonathan in our statements at the time. "But I'm a pretty spontaneous person and the feeling just hit me tonight. . . . I felt so moved that the audience was still there."
The Pumpkins leader has already said this album and this tour represent the end of a musical chapter in the band's career because he wants to explore new musical approaches, a sound he describes loosely as "modern-day psychedelia." On this night, however, Corgan seemed thrilled that this chapter in the band's career hasn't come to a premature end. Before opening the door and greeting some fans, Corgan paused and took a deep breath. He's used to showing his vulnerable side in his music, but he sometimes finds it hard to express it in other situations.
Finally, he added, "This whole thing has been such a--I use the word 'humbling' carefully because people tend to look at it like, 'I've learned my lesson of conceit and now I'm a humble person.' It's just that there are feelings . . . call it humility, spirit or simply an appreciation for what's good about life. . . . And I feel a lot of that."