03 Sep The World is a Vampire
Two weeks ago this past Sunday, I took my oldest son to a rather unique religious service. Assuming you can’t tell from my exceptional photography, the celebrant of this service – pictured here in his signature black cassock with cardinal red piping – was His Eminence Billy Corgan. The boy and I drove the nearly three hours to the Hard Rock Hotel, Casino, and Chapel in Sioux City, Iowa to see Corgan and the rest of the pumpkin smashers perform for almost exactly half as long.
Some observations:
First, a 90-minute show is almost contemptuously short, given the cost of tickets and the requisite travel. Nevertheless, it’s the appropriate length for a Smashing Pumpkins show – at least in this day and age. Billy’s voice starts to give out after about an hour, and by the time they wrap up with “Cherub Rock” and “Zero,” he has nothing left. Of course, the guy is 57, and he’s been “signing” like this for almost 40 years, so…it makes sense. Still, the roundtrip drive was four times as long as the concert.
Second, for those 90-minutes – and especially for the first 60 – the band is spectacular. Between Billy, and co-founding members James Iha and Jimmy Chamberlain, the core of the band, is once again intact. Billy and Jimmy together are truly captivating. You’d imagine that their sound would be hard to replicate live, but…you’d be wrong.
Third, despite putting on a great musical show, the Pumpkins personally remain rather dour. Even in the age of Grunge, when famous musicians were killing themselves or overdosing on heroin every other week, Corgan et al. had a reputation for being especially depressed, depressing, awkward, and resentful that they were not given as much credit as Nirvana and Pearl Jam for driving the “alternative” music scene. In more than three decades, not much appears to have changed. Billy is still something of a grump, and heaven forbid Iha should have to try to entertain/engage the crowd while Billy works on getting his blown amplifier replaced. Yikes. The picture of Corgan below, taken on Disneyland’s Big Thunder Mountain Railroad nine years ago (which is real and spectacular) sums him and the band up pretty nicely.
Anyway, all things considered, both the boy and I agree we’d go again. It may not have been the greatest show ever, but it was good enough.
Now, there is almost no chance that any of you remembers it, but this is not the first time I have written about taking this particular son to a concert. Almost exactly three years ago, I wrote about taking him to see 311 – another 1990s alternative band – as something of a declaration of independence from the COVID-isolationist regime. Given the context in which it took place, that concert was liberating. It also contrasts well with the more recent concert on some key points.
First, 311 played forever. I don’t recall how long the show was, but it was probably close to three hours.
Second, those guys – unlike the Smashing Pumpkins – had an absolute blast. Rather than bemoaning their lack of recognition and critical acclaim, I think they’re just happy as clams that people remember who they are and are willing to turn out in significant numbers to see them play. And note, when I say that, I don’t mean to be disparaging. I love 311. They’re from Nebraska, after all. And they blend funk with rock without sounding like the Red Hot Chili Peppers, which is both welcome and amazing. Indeed, to my mind, P-Nut Wills is a more interesting, more creative, and more talented funk bass player than Flea, who nevertheless gets all the public acclaim.
More to the point, perhaps, how can one not admire what these guys have done? They have managed, through skill, inventiveness, and wiliness to avoid ever having to get real jobs. Again, not to sound disparaging, but these guys play music for a living, and they live extremely comfortably. Touring is probably quite grueling, but still, none of them will ever have to earn their keep doing some of humanity’s harshest, most taxing and thankless jobs, like digging ditches, plowing fields, or trying to think of interesting and engaging ways to write about ESG every week. They’ve made it. They’re happy about it. Their joy comes through on the stage and can be contagious. What’s not to love?
Would I go see them again? I dunno. Maybe. Would I drive 3 hours to see them play for 90 minutes, outside on a hot August evening? No – especially if P-Nut is still on hiatus from touring. “Joy” can only take you so far. As fun, as vibrant, and as joyful as they are, 311 probably is not among the top 100 pop/rock bands of the 1990s.
By contrast, the dour, grumpy, and awkward Smashing Pumpkins are easily in the top 10. As I said, joy is great, but it’s not enough.
On the off chance you haven’t figured it out yet, I am (VERY) slowly but surely getting to an analogy here.
Donald Trump is often grumpy, and sometimes dour. He firmly believes that the world is out to get him (which it may or may not be), and he resents that he doesn’t get credit for the relative calm that characterized most of his presidency. He may or may not be your first choice to serve as the nation’s chief executive – or to accompany you to Disneyland. And heaven forbid you should need JD Vance to order you some doughnuts. Yikes.
Still, it’s hard not to recognize the marked contrasts between the current presidency and Trump’s.
Kamala Harris, on the other hand, is just happy that she stumbled ass-backward into convincing a major political party to nominate her for any office, much less the presidency. She’s just grateful to be here and ecstatic that no one in the mainstream media will ever ask to explain how that happened or what she plans to do next. She too has made it. And she’s pretty darned impressed with herself.
Will joy be enough in Harris’s case?
The longstanding political wisdom suggests that American voters prefer a “happy warrior.” They loved Reagan, especially when contrasted with the cheerless Jimmy Carter. Likewise, they loved Bill Clinton’s jolliness and Barack Obama’s pseudo-optimism.
The difference between these three and Harris, of course, is that they were politically skilled, while she is…well…not. Will the American people be willing to put their faith in her, despite this, just because she appears to be having more fun than the other guys?
I doubt it. I think, instead, they’ll choose substance (and experience!) over style. They’ll hop in the truck and drive back to Sioux City, hoping to see at least an hour of really great music.
