Oceania is a record that in many ways
redefines the idea of Smashing Pumpkins. Like the protagonist Winston Smith of
the novel 1984 (which the title of
the record alludes to), whose job is to edit historical texts as the government
sees fit, Oceania takes what the
world previously expected of the act known as Smashing Pumpkins and rewrites it
in a more contemporary light.
This record is
one that invites mixed feelings from me, especially considering my die-hard
fandom of this band. Oceania provides
where it needs to the crunching rock tunes, while also exposing a vulnerability
not usually felt in a band headed by an established musical creator such as
Billy Corgan. It is full of songs both powerful and gentle, but the
distribution of those songs does more to hinder the energy of the record as a
whole than to accent it. There seems a constant catch-and-release of the vigor
inherent in the music, making it a record that’s a little hard to get into.
Yet, sincerity and strength are constantly delivered, always with an original
flavor.
While I would
normally try and avoid making comparisons between a record and the artist’s
other work, I think it important to note that Oceania truly sounds like nothing else the Smashing Pumpkins have
done before. While songs like “Quasar” and “Inkless” do have a feel reminiscent
of Siamese Dream, the fact that this
record is not only full of extensive keyboard parts, but in fact relies on
them, lends it a texture of originality. In an interview with NME, Billy Corgan remarks that Oceania “is the first time where you
actually hear me escape the old band. I’m not reacting against it or for it or
in the shadow of it.”[1]
This escape is clearly evident in both the composition and the sound of the
record. The bleepy-bloopy synths in songs like “Pinwheels” and “One Diamond,
One Heart” are absolutely necessary in that they create the crux of the song to
which the other instruments react. Such keyboard-centric writing in a band that
does not have a resident keys player denotes a fresh take on a band that has
again become fresh both in personnel and creativity.
This originality
is most powerfully expressed in the song “Glissandra,” my favorite off of Oceania. This song is full of both movement and emotion from its first
note, as both vocals and instruments exude a melancholy aura that is easily
relatable. The writing and instrumentation of “Glissandra” capture the
essential image of Smashing Pumpkins, yet it retains and even announces its
youth and innovation by providing syncopated riffs and a subdued spotlight on the
synth, the signature of the sound that this record is expressing. Lyrically, it
is one of the most poetic pieces, filled with turns of phrase and capped with
the catchy hook of “I used to know.” Putting all intricacies dripping from this
song aside, it simply grooves like no other tune on the record.
While the
synth-heavy sound of the record certainly provides a unique feel, it also seems to have
affected the writing in a negative fashion. The keys may fill out the song
musically, but they leave much to be desired creatively. When the keyboards are
center stage, the guitar is buried, if it is to be heard at all. Furthermore,
“One Diamond, One Heart” and “Wildflower,” two songs that showcase the synth as
the main instrument, I find almost unbearable to listen to, because they rely
so heavily on one instrument that the others are virtually if not completely
deleted. The synths seem cute at first, but ultimately, at least in the case of
these two songs, leave the listener utterly bored.
Unfortunately,
this apparent albeit infrequent weakness in the writing is not contained to
just the instrumentation. The vocal melodies on the record are inconsistent in
the ways they shine. For the most part, Billy’s vocals are soulful and
truthful, and his lyrics dance fluidly, wanting not for depth in meaning or
musicality. Songs like “The Chimera” feature Billy singing in an energetic and
impassioned fashion, truly filling out the song. Yet, in other places, Billy’s
melodies, along with the lyrics shaped upon them, seem frail or forced. The
lyrics of “The Celestials,” the first single off of Oceania, seem as passionate and meaningful as the list of
ingredients on a shampoo bottle.
Although such
complaints can sometimes hold a record back, ultimately they take nothing away
from the integrity of the music. Both Billy Corgan and Jeff Schroeder tear
apart their guitars in wailing riffs adorning the solid yet beautifully
ornamented foundation of Nicole Fiorentino’s basslines. Yet the drums seem to
steal the show, with Mike Byrne’s youthful and spastic percussion sounding
always like his kit is about to be broken by the sheer force of his drumming. Indeed,
Byrne’s pounding percussion in “Panopticon” was singled out by Spin Magazine[2]
in its review of the album. Truly, any holes in the hull of Oceania are easily patched with the chemistry
of soulful musicianship displayed by this quartet.
Ultimately, Oceania is a record that was destined to
be judged from its conception. Yet it enters the room, arms spread wide,
fearless and honest in its presentation. It has songs I will skip over, but
also songs that I crave to hear again and again, all of which stand as
testament to the humanity of this new take on an old name.
Tunes to Check Out:
1) Glissandra
2) The Chimera
3) Quasar
2012 appears to be the year of the lighthouse
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