SMASHING PUMPKINS IN TORONTO, 1996
Since I live in Toronto, I thought it was appropriate to have this page, a collection of sorts. Below you'll find four things: my review of the 2 Jan 96 show at the Phoenix; an ATN review of the 3 Jan 96 Phoenix show; a transcript of Smashing Pumpkins on MuchMusic on 3 Jan 96; my review of the Maple Leaf Gardens show, 14 Sep 96.
Smashing Pumpkins
The Phoenix, Toronto. January 2 1996.
By Simon Coyle (note: this review first appeared on ChartAttack)
I was cold. Very cold. So cold that when I tried to speak, drool spilled from the side of my blue
mouth. Looking around I could see that many people in The Phoenix that night were suffering from
the same problem, but that was alright. It was the first big show of 1996 - Smashing Pumpkins'
club tour, a little surprise for their hard-core fans. We had queued patiently, and without complaint,
in sub-zero temperatures. Twice. Even if Billy Corgan had marched onstage, pissed into a bucket
and said goodnight, we would still have a good time. We had earned our places in the audience,
dammit, and we were rabid.
Eager mumblings and the odd scream were the only sounds heard until guitarist James Iha leapt out
from behind the drum kit. The Phoenix came dangerously close to collapse as the rest of the band
took the stage: Billy Corgan, bassist D'arcy Wretzky and drummer Jimmy Chamberlin - all of them
dressed in their pyjamas. The crowd went wild. "We're our own opening band," explained Corgan
as the band took their seats for what turned out to be an incredible acoustic set. Highlights were
Tonight Tonight and Rocket. The former was amazing - slowed, hushed and beautiful. The latter,
while blatantly non-acoustic (ie. the instruments were plugged in), was also superb - completely
rewritten from it's original 1993 Siamese Dream incarnation and well, it was just plain exciting. The
set went without a hitch, despite some moshers who were, yes, moshing to very slow acoustic songs
... weirdos. Anyway, by the end of the forty-minute set, the audience was going nuts, they were
thirsty for more stripped-down lovliness. But it wasn't to be. The Pumpkins buggered off backstage
to change clothes. And when they came out again, they were not the same band.
Well, they were the same band, but they also weren't. For you see, the people that had left the stage
were quiet, introverted and whimsical. The people that took the stage at the start of the next set
were psycho-cyber-metallers, here to kick our asses (in a musical way) with the help of some very
loud guitars and shiny silver pants. And that's just what they did. Beginning by launching straight into
the mangled feedback of Where Boys Fear to Tread, Smashing Pumpkins powered their way
through an awe-inspiring set at breakneck speed. There was a hardly a moment to catch a breath as
the cock-rock Bullet with Butterfly Wings blasted into Thru the Eyes of Ruby, melted into
Porcelina of the Vast Oceans which then spawned the crowd-pleasing rock of Jellybelly.
After that, things slowed down a tad with the chart-friendly 1979. After a couple of encores, things
ended on a high note with Cherub Rock and that was that. Smashing Pumpkins had left that
building. And as for me, I went home with a buzz that lasted two days. Or that could have just been
my ears ringing.
Smashing Pumpkins
Phoenix Concert Theatre
Toronto, Canada
January 4, 1996 (note: this date is incorrect)
By Peter Howell
It's 5 p.m. and the audience earlybirds shivering outside the Phoenix Concert Theatre are getting a thrill: the members
of Chicago's Smashing Pumpkins showing up for a pre-concert sound check. The fans press close to the vehicle carrying the
band, their small flash cameras popping souvenir shots, while band member Billy Corgan, Jimmy Chamberlin, James Iha and
D'Arcy shyly smile and slip into the building, anxious to prepare for the second of two sold-out shows.
The Pumpkins seem embarrassed by the attention, and they don't look like rock stars, with the
exception of bassist D'Arcy, the glamour doll of the group in her styled blonde hair and shiny leather
pants.
Backstage in the dressing room, which is stocked with such rock 'n' roll essentials as champagne
and such whimsical requests as Skippy peanut butter and Pez candy dispensers (D'Arcy's personal
favorite), Corgan and Chamberlin seem even less like the nouveau rock royalty they've become. For
one thing, Corgan is wrapped in a big winter coat and toque, snuffling away at a cold. "Right now,
I'm on codeine, ecchinacea, cortisone, antibiotics ... I don't even know what I'm taking. I'm just like Elvis," he quips.
A viral infection for the lead singer/guitarist at the start of a world tour would be a nail-biting concern for many bands. But it
doesn't seem to worry this extremely focused group, which gives the impression of having thought out every move so well, no
explanation or justification bears mention. But Corgan, 28, and drummer Chamberlain, 31, are happy to at least try to explain it
all, including the band's decision to begin its Phoenix shows with a sit-down acoustic set, rather than straight balls-out rock 'n'
roll.
The Smashing Pumpkins, after all, are a hot, hot ticket, having sold out the 1,100-person Phoenix twice over, for a show that
would have done healthy business at Maple Leaf Gardens hockey arena or even the SkyDome stadium. And the band is
currently at the top of the alternative rock heap, with an audacious double album, Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness,
that has sold 3,000,000 units ญญ triple platinum ญญ in Canada alone since its October release.
So why the take-it-easy show start? The simple answer is they won't be able to do much acoustic playing this summer, when
they return to Toronto for a big outdoor show on another leg of the tour aimed at amphitheaters and stadiums. "We know we
could come here and play to how-many-other people, but that's not what we're interested in," Corgan says.
Adds Chamberlin, who often intuitively finishes Corgan's sentences: "This is as much for us as it is for everybody else."
"We have one eye on being entertaining, and another eye on satisfying our own need to go out and fully enjoy the material that
we worked so hard to present," Corgan continues. "Because the fact of the matter is, it's exactly what you're saying: the
moment we do go into those big places, we'll never play most of the stuff that you heard last night."
Toronto is one of only a handful of cities where the Pumpkins are doing small club shows to warm up for their one- to two-year
global trek. It's in recognition of the fact that Canada, and Toronto in particular, is one of the best markets in the world for the
Smashing Pumpkins, Corgan says. It's some change from 1991, when the Pumpkins were the opening act on an amazing bill at
the old Concert Hall, that included the Red Hot Chili Peppers and the local debut of Pearl Jam. At that show, Corgan became
angry with the crowd for something he now can't recall, and showered the audience with verbal abuse. He admits he's
mellowed a lot since then, both towards Toronto ญญ he judged Tuesday's first-night crowd "excellent" ญญ and his audiences in
general. "My basic negative reactions were to apathy or bad attitude," he says, "so I would respond to it in kind."
Corgan has since learned to be patient, which is why he didn't fly off the handle when the punkers in his Phoenix audience
screamed for ear-bending rock during the acoustic phase of the show. He and his bandmates have together learned to work
together more and to hold their ground, putting on the show they want to do. "We're not asking for tolerance," Corgan says.
"We're basically saying, 'Here's what we are, all facets of it,' and if people don't like certain facets of it, well, there's not much
we can do about that."
The "all facets" philosophy explains why Mellon Collie has 28 tracks and two discs. Corgan and Chamberlin both say there
was exactly one band meeting to decide whether to put out another single-CD album of rock, like 1993's ground-breaking
Siamese Dream, or to push the band's limits with what became Mellon Collie, a sprawling monument to creativity with its
rock, classical, jazz and pop mix, and acoustic/electric dual personality. "And we never looked back," Corgan says, a satisfied
smile on his face.
Does Mellon Collie show all sides of the band? Chamberlin, for one, thinks so: "I think it's about as close as we can get, really,
without either killing ourselves or having to quit."
But Corgan seemed unconvinced: "I think this is the crowning achievement of Smashing Pumpkins as people would know it,
but I think we're still capable of making a universal album. "We're still capable of making an album that would appeal to your
grandma and a 15-year-old kid, and which nobody would have a problem with ญญ the kind of album R.E.M. and U2 make."
A brash claim, but anyone who has followed the Smashing Pumpkins on their seven-year odyssey would know better than to
disbelieve it.
Smashing Pumpkins on MuchMusic, Wednesday
January 3rd, 1996.
Transribed by Simon Coyle
Band enters studio. Lots of screaming.)
MuchMusic: James has left the building...
D'arcy: You're all actors, right?
MM: Yes that's right, high paid extras.
Billy Corgan How come you're not all in school, that's what I want
to know. The future of Canada is at stake!
MM: There should be a revolving platform or something you guys should
stay on. How is everyone? All right?
D: We're all sick.
MM: Bearing the cold? Oh, you're all sick, I see.
D: Bringing you new viruses from other countries.
MM: Oh that's always good, bring on the viruses. Ok, so I saw you play
last night, and what struck me first about the show would be the amazing
long line-up down the street and the use of vouchers instead of tickets.
And mandatory i.d to eliminate scalping. Why did you use this method?
BC: We played some shows last February in Chicago, same kind of situation,
small show and you know, certainly there's more than whatever number of
people want to go to the show and we wanted people who really wanted to
go to get there and the problem is like, when you put it through TicketMaster
or whatever you have here for phonelines, you're gonna get people who are
like, kinda fans like they like one song kinda thing and we're trying to
make it like, if people really wanna go they can get a ticket. I mean,
if you want to get up and stand in line, you'll get a ticket, you know...
MM: Right it's sort of a task to make it...
(lots of screaming from fans outside the buildling)
MM: They want tickets!
BC: A little late. But, see that's the idea and then just take the
scalping element out of it so, if you're sixteen and you have you know,
whatever amount of money, you're gonna get in. You don't have to pay so
many hundred bucks plus...
D: Or have, you know, connections.
BC: Right, you know, I mean, at this point in our lives we'll play
a show and there'll be a hundred people there who have nothing to do with
the music band, and not the people who want to see you play, it's just
'cos their dad knows Larry the Sausage Guy or something, you know. So we
try to avoid that.
MM: Was it true that you waited till the last person in the line-up
was inside the building before you started the show?
BC: I think we tried, we tried. But we had a... I dunno. Somebody had
a heart attack or something...
MM: Really? In the line-up?
BC: No, us, one of us had a heart attack. We were a little late going
onstage.
MM: And you started the show off with a twenty minute acoustic set.
BC: It was more like forty
MM: Was it about forty?
BC: It seemed like an hour and a half.
MM: It seemed like a real bold move to do that, and why did you choose
that, starting the night off with that style?
Jimmy Chamberlin: Um, just because it's a rare opportunity for us to
play our softer acoustic songs without, you know, without having to play
an extremely long show, I mean, to break it up into two things, it's easier
to present, like, these are our acoustic songs, so don't expect like, you
know, a big raucous rock show, that'll be later.
MM: Yeah, it looked like you were in your pyjamas to begin with and
you had like a beautiful elegant ball gown...
D: We were... and we'll be in our pyjamas again.
BC: I thought it was appropriate to wear my pyjamas considering I wrote
most of the songs in them so...
MM: It seems very, like, in that very stripped-down manner, without
the signature guitars that it really emphasised the fact that a lot of
your songs are love songs.
BC: What kind of songs?
MM: Love songs.
BC: We call them hate songs
MM: And the night sort of progressed on to, it started off very controlled
and quiet and by the end of the show you were all deranged! Like crazy!
(To D'arcy) Like, your eyeliner is going down your face, blaaagghhhh...
James Iha: I don't remember that...
MM: You had like, shinier stuff on...
JC: You were at a different show...
MM: Then comes the magnus opus of the double CD, Mellon Collie and
the Infinite Sadness. Did you start off with conceptually going, we wanna
put out a double CD or did you just have so much stuff that it fit onto
two CDs?
BC: Both. No, it was a double CD before the songs were even written.
MM: So the idea...
BC: We made up our minds because we're so sick of everyone doing these
extremely calculated rock moves and, this is how you do your videos and
this is how you do your albums, and this is how you are as a band, and
this is what you say. So it's just a total reaction against the way that
everything is. We just wanted to provide the most amount of music that
we could, for the least amount of money and just...
MM: The least amount of money - like as far as what you pay for it?
BC: Yeah, I mean, the album roughly costs one and a half times a normal
album instead of two albums put together. You know, we took less money
and worked harder to make something that we cared about. And our whole
thing has always been if we care about it, we hope that other people would
too. So you know, we're just trying to remove ourselves out of the typical
rock game, circa 1995 or 6 or whatever...
MM: And you can call the shots now at the point in your career. Or
have you always done...
BC: Well yeah, you can call the shots as long as you can sell records.
I mean, the moment we stop selling records I don't think anyone would be
too supportive of a double CD.
MM: It's divided into two parts, Dawn till Dusk and Twilight to Starlight,
how did you determine which songs fell into which time period?
BC: Well we put the really good ones on one and the bad ones on the
other.
MM: Really?
JI: Really?
MM: Which are the really good ones according to you?
BC: See, you have to guess that part though. Because everyone has a
different opinion.
MM: Yeah, I found it very consistent. It was very hard for me to determine
what was the deciding force that... you know. Umm, you speak... ahh...
your songs are introspective, emotional and turbulent, are you able to..
BC: They are?
MM: They are! Are you able to speak freely as a person about these
things or are songs what you choose to... is that the best...
BC: Oh, you're asking me can I speak about the same subject matter
outside of the context of the songs?
MM: Yes.
BC: Yeah I can, but it seems to demean the subject matter.
MM: So it's more effective?
BC: It's not about effectiveness, it's just you know, ok, if I write
songs, you know, I'm as much of an artist as much as someone who paints
a picture and I choose to express in those things whatever I want to express.
Nobody questions an artist's emotional attitude in a painting or in a picture
but somehow musically we have to dissect where it comes from, so I've just
ceased talking about those things in public because it seems to cheapen
them or something and I'm not gonna cheapen what's real because everyone
that I know feels the things that we're singing about so until I find somebody
who doesn't feel those things then we'll not be invalid. The media makes
these things invalid,it blows them up into, you know, I'm the tortured
idiot child who doesn't know any better, you know, and I'm not the tortured
idiot child, I'm a pretty normal human being, I just happen to be able
to express things very intensly. That's it, it's not any more sophistcated
than that.
MM: So to demean your songs is to talk about what the songs are about?
D: Not to talk about them, but you know, but Billy could sit there
and talk for about an hour about what a song really means to him and maybe
he'll sum it up really well, but they're not gonna put everything that
he says in there, they're gonna try and sum it up in three really catchy
words. And that definitely trivialises it.
BC: It's a soundbite culture and we're not interested in participating
in a soundbite culture.
MM: Do you ever find yourself in interviews regurgitating the same
answers like, a lot of artists...
BC: Every answer is original and fresh.
MM: Yeah, that's good. Now this album finds you playing more together
as a live band, does that more reflect a change of dynamics within the
group? Sort of a relinquishing of technical precision for just groove and
feel?
BC: I think we felt overall we never really captured the band as the
band on record. Maybe Gish to a point, but even then it was still like,
you know, first album freak-out. So this album certainly captures, like,
all aspects of the band you know, the anal geek part and the total just
rocking-out part.
MM: Um, you made an interesting observation about the parallels between
like, Hendrix and Coltrane and Sinatra and Miles Davidson. You said something,
"great music completely obliterates any conception of genre"
and do you wanna kind of elaborate on that?
BC: I dunno how much better I can say it.
D: You said that? Wow.
MM: So these people were like venturing into new musical territory...
BC: Take a great artist, Bob Dylan or John Lennon or Kurt Cobain or
anybody like that, when they come along it doesn't matter what style of
music they're playing, suddenly what they're singing about and what they're
talking about suddenly seems so much more important than grunge or... whatever.
And that's what, all I'm trying to say is we so focus on what's 'happening',
it's like, by the time you recognise that something is 'happening', it's
probably already ceased to happen. The very root of grunge was Seattle
89/90 you know. We saw that and you could feel that. By the time it became
this huge media event, everyone had already gone on and moved on.
MM: You've been very critical about the state of contemporary music
and how do you as a group continue to challenge yourself and it seems very
important for you to make new music - how do you do that?
JI: Uuuh...
BC: James?
MM: Are you in isolation most of the time? Do you keep up on contemporary
music?
JI: I don't think we really listen to new bands like the new alternative
rock bands, we sort of work within the records we've already done and sorta
go from there. The songs always come first but I think like stylistically
we try to just build from our previous records and not rehash what we've
done before.
MM: Are you hard on each other?
D: But we're also really hard on ourselves. I mean I think we all have
that perfectionistic attitude.
MM: You keep saying the word 'real' and real is like a subjective thing
- but what is 'real' for you?
BC: But I don't think it is subjective, it may be subjective to the
individual, but speaking in general terms, real things seem to resonate
through a lot of people and umm... I mean you know, we're all playing party
to something and you could be a pissant about it, which I try not to always
be, but the fact of the matter is that the people who are coming to see
us play deserve more. Not only from the Smashing Pumpkins but from everyone
they pay their money to. If the audience is expected to give of themselves
then the artists should be expected to give of themselves and what disgusts
me is it's more about image and manufacturing some kind of intent to actually
getting down to providing what the whole point of it is, which is a visceral
experience that has meaning, so that twenty years from now you look back
on what you listened to and you wouldn't be ashamed. We look back at what
we used to listen to when we were fifteen and it was terrible, it was totally
awful. And we're proud to at least provide something of quality and of
realness to the people who are listening and what disgusts us is like you
know, there's people can look themselves in the mirror then go out and
fake their way through it.
MM: You've said that this is the end of the Smashing Pumpkins era as
a rock 'n' roll guitar based band, you're moving into the technological
direction. Do all of you embrace your electronic future?
BC: You might wanna ask D'arcy that question.
MM: So are you gonna get into computers like (starts making computer-noises)?
BC: We already are, though computers don't make that noise any more.
D: Not our computers.
MM: So like, what are you going to do?
BC: We've worked out a plan where eventually we'll replace all ourselves
with machines. So roughly by the year 2002 we'll sit at home and the machine
will go on tour.
D: James isn't really James. He's a robot.
BC: That's why he's not as funny as he used to be.
MM: Do you have a lot of input in your videos?
JC: No.
BC: Yes.
MM: You do? I would imagine the videos are sort of like, you try to
get the same amount of quality in there or input 'cos that's like a part
of you that out on show.
BC: Well whenever you make a commercial you know, you want it to be
good. We try to make the best commercials we can.
MM: Specifically this one's an interesting one, like the post-apocalyptic
imagary of all the people, these throngs of people covered in blue mud
and then the band. And is the band part of that group of people? Are you
part of that whole scenario or are you like...
BC: We're the house band for the armageddon.
MM: Ok, here they are, this is the house band for the armageddon, Smashing
Pumpkins, and this is Bullet with Butterfly Wings, thank you.
Smashing Pumpkins
Maple Leaf Gardens, Toronto. September 14 1996.
By Simon Coyle (note: this review first appeared on ChartAttack)
Having possibly been spoiled by the Pumpkins show at The Phoenix last January (where they played
to only 900 people), I was slightly apprehensive about how they were going to carry off this stadium
show. But, predictably enough, I shouldn't have worried, as The Smashing Pumpkins gave one of
the loudest, and most visually stimulating shows I've ever seen.
Knowing that they could never recreate an intimate club atmosphere in a place like Maple Leaf
Gardens, the band seemed to have gone all the way to the other extreme. They weren't just playing
songs, they were putting on a show - and what a great show it was.
It began by plunging Maple Leaf Gardens into total darkness, then playing the very soft instrumental
title track from their latest album, Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness over the speakers. The
atmosphere around this point was reaching fever pitch, and I could feel a mass-stadium freakout
coming on. Then, as the track drew to a close, the lights went up and - good lord - there was an
enormous (enormous) metal christmas tree, just kind of, sitting there. Strobe lights flashed, spotlights
spun and shone down from the tree-thing, dry ice drifted over the stage and the band exploded into
Where Boys Fear to Tread, a Sabbath-esque cock-rock riffathon.
Between-song banter was strangely thin on the ground, but the force of the music more then made
up for this. There were a few definite highlights, the main one being the first encore where they
introduced Jimmy from Milwaukee "sleaze-queens" The Frogs, whose drummer took over as
Pumpkins keyboardist for the remainder of this tour. He appeared onstage in his full Frogs garb -
green sequined suit and giant shining wings, and sang Some Kind of Wonderful. During the next
song, 1979, he dived into the crowd, chased bassist D'arcy around the stage, attacked Corgan with
a swinging microphone and generally lightened the tone.
Another highlight was the third encore. It began with drummer Matt Walker (from Filter, replacing
Jimmy Chamberlin for the rest of the tour) taking the stage alone, and doing his thing. He was following by the other band members, who then launched into a 25-minute version of Silverfuck.
Yes, it was completely self-indulgent, but it was also brilliant.
Moshing on the floor was kept to a minimum, but that didn't stop the three people next to me trying
to mosh in their seats. God, there's some strange people out there...
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