Smashing Pumpkins
Siamese Dream
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NATN Recommended
Smashing Pumpkins
Siamese Dream
Virgin, 1993
RiYL: Pearl Jam, My Bloody Valentine, Nirvana |
Siamese Dream didn't come easy, though. In fact, mainman Billy Corgan's iron-fisted rulership over the recording and arranging of the album threatened its very completion on a number of occasions. It is even rumored that he erased the tracks laid down by guitarist James Iha and bassist D'arcy Wretzky so that he could play them himself -- to his satisfaction.
And although the precise drum rolls from Jimmy Chamberlin's kit begin the album, and "Cherub Rock," with subtlety, within seconds, a tightly orchestrated barrage of layered guitars comes crashing in, quickly establishing the agenda: world domination by way of guitar. Things get even harder on "Quiet" and "Geek U.S.A.," where amphetamine-addled drum hits pummel the listener into submission. Yet, Corgan shows his knack for contrast, off-setting these bottom-heavy rockers with the shimmering "Today", the fuzzy/crunchy "Rocket," and the string enhanced "Disarm," which became a massive radio hit.
The album really begins to take shape though, with the longer, more complex songs. After three concise rockers, "Hummer" finally shows Corgan opening up his songs and letting them breathe. The track begins with a mixture of sampled static and looped sitar, segueing into a clean E-bow solo that feels like a sine-wave of red, sonic light. After the main, soft-to-loud structured portion of the song concludes, the track descends into a guitar lullaby atop a jazzy backbeat.
The effect of these transitions is amazing, one minute Corgan is using his guitar to scream his angst to the world, and the next he's using it to softly sing you to sleep. The epic "Silverfuck" pushes the envelope further. Beginning with a frenzied guitar explosion, the noise soon drops out completely, leaving the listener to swirl in the ambient rumblings of D'arcy's bass. Just when the song appears to drift to a conclusion, Corgan chants the lines "Bang, bang, you're dead / Hole in your head" with the aid of some spooky tape manipulation, and the song screams back into the thrashing groove from minutes previous.
Lyrically, Siamese Dream shows Corgan to be a powerful -- albeit somewhat repetitive -- songwriter, in which angst overflows like hot coffee. While Corgan's musings can be grating at times ("Disarm" being a prime example), the tone is never gloomy enough to marr the album's overall beauty. On tracks like "Mayonnaise", the lyrical pleas compliment the music perfectly. When Corgan screams, "Can anybody hear me / I just want to be me" during the climax of the song, you just want to scream back, "Hell yeah, I can hear you. Preach on!"
While the Pumpkins' music took an ugly shift toward pomposity and derivative '80s pop on subsequent efforts, Siamese Dream still stands with Gish as two of the most powerful rock albums of the '90s. Perhaps someday, Corgan will throw in the goth-pop towel and "return to form." Until then, find yourself a copy of Siamese Dream and rock out.
MATT BROWN |