Smashing Pumpkins: Another Jazz Odyssey
According to Billy Corgan, Smashing Pumpkins' multi-platinum double-disc magnum
opus Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness (Virgin) marks their last
foray into epic, star-struck big-rock territory. What's next? They've hinted,
both on disc and in interviews, that it'll be something decidedly more
electronic. Which makes sense, since the Pumpkins have become, first and
foremost, a studio band. As their Boston-area performances over the past few
years have proved, they're much less comfortable carrying off the gargantuan,
mythic scope of their albums in a live setting.
So, as the Pumpkins prepare to make the jump to techno, industrial, post-new
wave, and/or points unknown, their new five-CD, 32-song
B-sides/outtakes/previously-unreleased compilation The Aeroplane Flies
High (Virgin) reminds us of what Han Solo once observed of Imperial Star
Destroyers: they dump all their junk before they make the jump to hyperspace.
In what amounts to their second double album in two years, Aeroplane
pairs the five singles released from Mellon Collie with their respective
B-sides (including the alternate tracks released on European singles, which
often differed from the domestic versions), plus five unreleased covers to make
the package tastier to their notorious legions of import-collecting fans. It's
all arranged pretty much by theme. For instance, on the "Zero" CD, you get five
additional similarly thunderous metallic rampages, all of them fairly good in a
bludgeoning sort of way, and any of which could have filled the heavy-guitar
slots on Mellon Collie. The question of whether you'd be interested in
five more "Zero"s is likely tied to whether you're the type to spend $43.99
(list price) on Smashing Pumpkins outtakes, so it would be superfluous to call
this, uh, superfluous. Plus, it's pretty clear that the obsessiveness of
Aeroplane is completely intentional by the time you get to the
"Pastichio Medley" at the end of disc three: 23 minutes of Corgan's discarded
riffs strung together (each riff meticulously catalogued in the 36-page
booklet, which also offers complete lyrics, opaquely worded liner notes by the
band, and an up-to-the-minute exhaustive discography).
It's also clear, to anyone who's ever checked any of the numerous
Pumpkins-related Web pages, that Corgan's obsessiveness is second only to his
fans'. So there's at least some supply-and-demand justification for this kind
of compulsive self-indulgence, and, after all, it's the kind of ritualistic
bloodletting we've come to expect from the band who released Pisces
Iscariot, an album's worth of outtakes, shortly after 1993's Siamese
Dream.
But Aeroplane is by no means required listening. The Pumpkins hint at
their future (with some blippy, subtly electronic variations on the same kind
of thinly mechanized pop as "1979") and sonically psychoanalyze their past
(with some blippy, thinly mechanized covers, including the Cars' "You're All
I've Got Tonight," the Cure's "A Night like This," Missing Persons'
"Destination Unknown," and Alice Cooper's "Clones"). Although there are flashes
of individual-track brilliance ("Ugly," "Blank," and the set's title track)
mixed in with proof that the Pumpkins might also have made a decent indie-pop
band ("The Boy"), there's nothing approaching the collective magnitude of
Mellon Collie. Ultimately, it's an extravagance where another Pisces
Iscariot would have sufficed. And as a self-contained epic arena-rock fairy
tale, Mellon Collie seemed to preclude the need for the closure that
Aeroplane aspires to provide.
-- Carly Carioli