So I went to see the Smashing Pumpkins play The Big Top at Sydney's Luna Park. It was very important that I went to see them. I had had another opportunity to see them a few years ago...at one of those V festivals. Its amusing but sad. I went with a number of friends who all said they too wanted to see the Smashing Pumpkins. But we went to see Duran Duran while we waited, supposedly in an ironic nostalgia thing. Turns out everyone I was with were closet Duran Duran fans and when the time came to swap stage - for the two gigs overlapped considerably - no one wanted to leave. So by the time we got across to the see them, the Pumkins had almost wrapped. I caught only a few tracks. I recognized only one. I had unfinished business with the Pumkins.
I say "Pumkins," there was actually only one: Billy Corgan and three fantastically talented musicians half his age. The drummer was only twenty, and quite excellent. The rest of the band left the stage for his drum solo, and you know it's an old school rock and roll drum solo when the rest of the band clear off for it. It was a sensational solo, nicely rounded off with a very large gong! It was a great gig. I was a bit concerned at one point early on when Billy made a bit of a whinge when the crowd completely fail to react to the first couple of apparently obscure tracks but utterly go off with the first recognisable Pumkins Smash. "it's rude to cheer one song more than the previous," said Billy, stopping his intro grumpily. I worried that we were in for another petulant prima donna performance like Ian Astbury's I had seen in a the ams venue only a few months before.But he turned out to be an excellent front man and really took the time to get chat with and share some of his kooky but well meaning personality. One highlight in particular was at the half way point when he was introducing a song about a woman who had broken his heart. "how many men here have had their hearts broken by women?" he asked. Most of the male members in the crowd, myself included, raised their hands. Billy pointed to one area of the crowd where there were no raised arms and said to Josh, his lead guitarist, "hey Josh, we need to hang out with these guys!". One woman in the crowd was overcome by the injustice,"I won't break your heart Billy," she screamed enthusiastically, over and over. The smile that crept across his face was flattered amusement.Talking of broken hearts, the female bassist was mesmerisingly enigmatic, almost siren-esque (bizarrely, born in 1979). Her face was an emotionless mask all night until she farewelled the crowd at the end, blowing kisses with an arresting smile. I think more bands should have foxy female bass guitarists. As big a Rock n' Roll deal as Billy Corgan is, I was absolytely absorbed by the bass line for some reason, the deep resonating chords she sent thorugh the venue all night were captivating. (If you happen to read this Nicole Fiorentini: will you marry me?).
Don't get me wrong though, it was a spectacular gig all round though, with Billy breaking into several entrancing guitar solos, one even using his teeth at one point, Hendrix-like. His scream has not aged and is as heart-soaring as it always was, and the old classics he churned out were elating. Bullet with Butterfly Wings, Siva, Cherub Rock and Today were all everything I hoped they would be, and more. All slightly re-worked without diluting any of the magic. Perfect.But the gig did reach a strange dénouement. Billy did announce before the last number, "I warn you, this track is 30 minutes long and ends in a feedback whiteout...do you think you can handle it?". On a second time of asking, the crowd made him feel we were committed and he began one of the most bizarre psychedelic feedback onslaughts rock has produced. With no water, it was some of the most suffering I've done for my art. So sadly quite a different end to the "1979" finale I had fantasized about.