Disclaimer: The following piece is a
super-in-depth look at one of my favorite records, and as such, it is riddled
with personal opinions and praise for said record. This cannot be helped.
As
I can’t help but continue to express, the Smashing
Pumpkins have always been a super-important act to me. Since the first time I
heard “Muzzle” fighting its way through static on the radio, I have been hopelessly
in love with this band’s music. I spent much of my high school years burning a
hole in my copy of their comp CD Rotten
Apples, all the while putting aside the change from my lunch purchases
until I could buy a proper album. I loved everything on that CD, and even
before I’d learned anything about the band, I wanted to own everything they’d
ever put out.
When
I finally had enough cash, I rode over to my local FYE, my heart set on a copy
of the epic Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness about which I
had heard so much. Yet when I arrived, I was stupidly surprised to find that as
a double album, Mellon Collie was almost
twice the price that I had expected to pay. Though disheartened, I refused to
leave without some new Pumpkins in my collection. So I picked up the next best
thing, a record with which I would face a vigorous love/hate relationship over
the next ten years: the Pumpkins’ universally lauded sophomore effort, Siamese Dream.
The
record that made TSP a household name, Siamese
Dream shows the band taking a step away from the psychedelia of Gish in favor of harder, more
straightforward, and unabashedly loud rock. Songs like “Mayonaise” and “Today”
feature massive, blooming distortion blasting through the speakers in a
veritable wall of sound. This apparently is partially due to the band’s recent discovery of the Big Muff Pi fuzz pedal, a legendary effect which upped the intensity
of Corgan’s and Iha’s rigs to the limits of human hearing. Coupling that with a
mixing job by Alan Moulder, one of the craftsmen behind My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless, and the overall sound
of Siamese Dream is that of a wall of
Marshall stacks, all cranked to eleven.
Although
it is well known that Billy Corgan played most of the instruments on the record, the composition of those songs was mainly a full-band effort.
Amid deteriorating band member relations, Jimmy Chamberlin’s increasing drug addiction, and pressure from media to be “the next Nirvana,” the Smashing
Pumpkins still managed to bring their best to the table, writing thirteen unique
pieces that explore a diverse palate of sound. Songs like “Geek U.S.A.” and
“Quiet” are loaded with roaring guitars, rattling drums, and booming bass,
while “Hummer” and “Luna” opt for prettier and quieter feels. There is also no
shortage of orchestration, with “Disarm” and “Spaceboy” prominently featuring a
string section that elevates their sound to the grandiose.
The
instrumentation may haven taken months to develop, but the lyrics on Siamese Dream are a far different story.
Suffering from both a period of severe depression and a terrible bout of writer’s block, Billy Corgan left much of the lyric writing until the last
minute, despite his perfectionist nature. However, his lack of
intellectual inspiration served only to stoke his emotional investment in his
writing. Billy uses these thirteen tracks to access parts of his life that he
had heretofore avoided, addressing topics such as lost love, suicide, and child
abuse. He holds nothing back in his lyrics or his performances, his voice
breaking painfully in “Soma” or roaring in “Silverfuck.” Though some of his
lines might go off like duds, the rest explode with the fury of a mortar shell,
resonating in heart and mind alike.
Siamese Dream is considered to be one of those
records that changed the face of music, a pivot in the history of rock. While I
don’t love or even like every song on this record, I know how important it is,
and so I know that I owe each a closer inspection at the very least.
1.
Cherub Rock
One
of my very first favorite songs by the Pumpkins, “Cherub Rock” opens the record
by kicking the door down with thundering drums and bombastic guitars. Amid
layers and layers of distortion and a rocking rhythm section, Billy delivers a
thinly-veiled rant against the corporate side of the rock world, specifically
the paradoxical expectations of delivering a polished product that it still
somehow pure at heart.. His opening lines of “Freak out / give in / doesn’t matter what you believe in / stay cool” reflect this Catch-22 dilemma,
simultaneously demanding conformity and self-awareness. Despite objections from
the label, Billy even managed to release this song as the first single,
forcing them to provide corporate promotion for his anti-corporate rock song. “Cherub
Rock” delivers heavy riffs and a very solid groove, and remains one of the most
kickin’ rock songs I have ever heard.
2.
Quiet
In
stark contrast to the preceding track, “Quiet” pushes the anger to front lines.
Billy’s lyrics are virulent, his vocals scratchy and furious with bare honesty.
Although the song is of course crushingly loud, the overall energy is brooding,
like a simmering rage that is always just kept at bay. Billy’s stern command of
“Be ashamed / of the mess you made” snaps like a leather belt, but even
his vocal deliveries are tempered into obedience. The instrumentation reflects
this underlying rage, featuring a gritty syncopated chorus, a rushing chromatic
progression on the guitars, and a bridge section that cycles between 12/8 and
4/4. Driving and manic, “Quiet” is without question mv favorite tune off this
record, a song that drives its poignant subject matter home with some vicious
performances by the band.
3.
Today
Beginning
with the littlest guitar riff in existence, “Today” could be called the tune
that catapulted the Smashing Pumpkins into the public eye. The divinely inspired tiny intro, a piece Billy heard note-for-note in his head, quickly
erupts into a gargantuan wall of fuzzed guitar and bombastic bass. Billy’s
vocals stay subtle throughout, juxtaposing the largely bright melodies with
lyrics that are an ironic musing on his own suicidal tendencies. “Today”
was Billy’s first step out of the quagmire of both writer’s block and
depression, a quickly-written piece that would soon become an iconic example of
this act’s potential.
While
“Today” is one the first tunes to really sell me on the Pumpkins’ sound and
style, it has since grown to be one of my least favorite songs by them. When
placed against pretty much any other tune in their catalogue, “Today” seems to
lack the both intelligence and integrity that have drawn me to this band’s
music. The instrumentation and lyrics certainly have presence, but both want
for the “epic” emotion present throughout the rest of Siamese Dream. Even
Jimmy’s drums feel lackadaisical, his take completely devoid of his usual jazzy
flow or improvisational approach. Still, while it hasn’t aged all that well for
me, I fully recognize the importance of “Today” as both a Pumpkins song and a
rock anthem, especially since if it hadn’t been such an immediate hit with the band, fans, and record executives, there’s a real good chance I
wouldn’t have ever found the Pumpkins’ music.
4.
Hummer
Unlike
“Today,” “Hummer” is a tune that has blossomed with both age and acquaintance. Opening
with a scratchy loop beat and an entrancing D’Arcy Wretzky bassline, this song
lacks a traditional chorus, starting with sickly sweet vocals that lead to a
simple but grandiose guitar solo, followed by a gorgeous and whimsical outro
that invites listeners to lose themselves within. The instrumentation and
uneasy structure call back to the band’s psychedelic Gish days, a pleasantly subtle reminder of Smashing Pumpkins’ sonic
evolution. And although nondescript lines like “Happiness will make you wonder / Will I feel OK?” and “Ask yourself a question / anyone but me / I ain’t free” make it apparent that the lyrics were tossed together at the
last minute, Billy’s deliciously earnest deliveries make them not only
forgivable, but worthy of crowd participation. “Hummer” is the feel-good piece
of Siamese Dream, a strolling
composition that continuously evolves in the ear and the heart as it progresses.
5.
Rocket
6.
Disarm
7.
Soma
Featuring over 40 guitar overdubs across its length, “Soma” flaunts one of the darkest
and most dynamic sound palettes of any tune on this album. The first of two Corgan/Iha collaborations on Siamese
Dream, the instrumentation features a built-in dichotomy that reflects
Corgan’s derisive indictment of a former lover.
The first half of the song is brooding, almost passive-aggressive,
featuring a slightly dissonant chord progression and a gentle build of energy.
Amid a wash of clean, sleepy strings, Billy almost whispers into the mic as he
turns his partner away: “Hush now, don’t you speak / to me.”
There
is no question of distrust in “Soma,” just quiet and contained frustration
slowly building under the tinkle of cymbals and strummed chords. Yet when the
piece reaches its halfway mark, the band suddenly explodes into powerful
distorted chords, reversing that agonizing energy into something far more
brutal. Billy’s guitar rips one of the most visceral solos I’ve ever heard,
while his whispers become spits of venom: “So let the sadness come again / On that you can depend on me, yeah / Until the bitter, bitter end of the world.”
The Pumpkins drive this antagonistic sound all the way home, before ultimately
slipping into a little reprisal coda of the first section. “Soma” is a tune
that spans the spectrum of anger, exploring the full field of an abhorrence
that never seems to find resolution.
8.
Geek U.S.A.
Ripping
right out of the gate with some extreme drumming from Jimmy, “Geek U.S.A.”
combines both speed and energy into a frightfully tight powerhouse tune. The
band tears their instruments apart with each passing second, shredding guitar
chords and thumping bass notes almost struggling to keep up with Chamberlin’s
firecracker drum rolls. “Geek U.S.A.” insists on tearing forward at a breakneck
pace, only to suddenly crash into a drowsy bridge that features the single most
lovely little guitar melody I’ve ever heard. Yet this respite lasts only
seconds, until the blasting chords return at what seems a doubling of the
original tempo, before culminating in a riotous riffstorm for the outro. “Geek
U.S.A.” foregoes the emotional encumbrances of the rest of Siamese Dream, instead opting for straightforward rock’n’roll that
sears like corrosive acid.
9.
Mayonaise
So
pretty, so sad—this is the only way I can describe the spell that “Mayonaise”
puts over me with each listen. The second compositional collaboration between
Corgan and Iha, this piece is almost cloyingly dolorous, a syrupy symphony of
sadness. Billy’s vocals are weepy and delicious in their deliveries as he drowns
in his own self-loathing: “We’ll try and ease the pain / but somehow, we feel the same.” Though the song structure seems to meander between verses,
choruses, and interludes without any real definition, its sound is far more
defined; Corgan and Iha slam on those Big Muff Pi pedals and unleash a tsunami
of distortion, broken only by the well-timed feedback in the chorus, delivered courtesy of Billy’s broken guitar. With its emotion-driven performances and
mushroom cloud of sound, “Mayonaise” is in my opinion the most powerful song on
Siamese Dream, encapsulating the sincerity,
vitriol, and morose musings that define the music of the Smashing Pumpkins.
10.
Spaceboy
"Spaceboy”
is another Billy-driven piece, a melancholy ballad of sorts that starts with a
tender melody and slight open chords on the acoustic guitar. His voice floats
somewhere between a whisper and a whine, each note oozing pure emotion. Although
the song is allegedly dedicated to Billy’s younger autistic brother,
wandering lines like “Spaceboy they’ve killed me / before I’m dead and gone”
suggest they may have again been a last-minute addition to a finished
composition. Still, the band sews a substantial layer of sincerity into this
piece, completed by some subtle orchestral arrangements that perfectly seal
what little cracks the Pumpkins leave in the instrumentation. “Spaceboy” is a
song that has grown on me, its whirling melodies and somber mood a nice
spotlight on this band’s potential when the distortion pedals are kicked
off.
11.
Silverfuck
Siamese Dream was meant to be a “big” album, and it
doesn’t get any bigger than this song. “Silverfuck” is a sprawling nine-minute monstrosity,
the opus of Siamese Dream rivaled
only by “Geek U.S.A.” in its vehement ferocity. The band launches into a
syncopated torrent of destruction, as Billy, James, and D’Arcy thrash their
instruments into oblivion while Jimmy rolls out fills like artillery
bombardments. With its primeval energetics, it’s no surprise that the Pumpkins
regularly chose “Silverfuck” as their set closer through much of their initial career,
and indeed, the live versions of this song are where its full force
comes to bear.
One
of the most captivating aspects of “Silverfuck” is its extreme use of dynamics.
The first half of the song wavers between lighthearted verses and incendiary
choruses, the energy always at least brimming and often at full-boil. But this
violent race of distortion literally collapses into the middle section, a
drifting and spacious bridge featuring zen-like vocals from Billy and a simple
heartbeat emanating from the rhythm section. This lullaby bridge is so
soothing, it almost erases any memory of the insanity that preceded it, until
the band again bursts forth at double-time, racing to a climactic outro of hits
and feedback. “Silverfuck” is the epitome of intensity on Siamese Dream, right down to the title, and one of the songs that I
look forward to most when I slip the disc into my car’s stereo.
12.
Sweet Sweet
A
small and sparse ditty, “Sweet Sweet” clocks in at just under a minute thirty,
and really feels more like an aside than a proper song. Featuring an ascending
vocal from Billy, crooning to his “sweet little agony” alongside
sparkling layers of clean guitar, its inclusion on Siamese Dream, a record slated as the “next Nevermind,” is certainly a bold choice, and still one I am working
to fathom—especially considering the multitude of tunes recorded during those sessions, most of which are both more cohesive and better suited to
the record’s style. Still, Billy knows what is best for his band, and though I
will almost invariably skip over it, at the very least “Sweet Sweet” acts as a
simple and pretty transition from the monster “Silverfuck” to the album’s
closing track. Speaking of which…
13.
Luna
If
by now you feel that the one thing Siamese
Dream wants for is beauty, look no further than “Luna.” This gorgeous and
soft love song features a blooming bass line underneath swelling guitars and a
tinkly sitar riff. The main section of the song remains in the realm of quiet
and cute, until the symphonic coda arrives, marching along over 7 measures and
lifting Billy’s starry-eyed vocal to a crescendo. It is this vocal that really
gets me: Billy’s calm yet earnest statements of “I’m in love with you”
are so infectious that I can’t help but sing along. Despite the insane
maelstrom of emotions that fill out this record, “Luna” brings to it
resolution, winding out the emotion and energy into a melodious and meaningful
three minutes that eases the listener out of the vast and dynamic dreamscape
that is Siamese Dream.
Listening
back to it now, ten years since the opening snare rolls of “Cherub Rock” first blared
through my car speakers, I’m still completely floored by how uncompromisingly
huge this record sounds. The cymbals crash like hurricane waves against the
sheer cliff face that is the guitar sound. Every note of every song feels
sculpted to its truest, most pure form—which is no surprise, since Billy Corgan
and producer Butch Vig attacked Siamese
Dream with an uncompromising vision of perfection. Butch has called it “the hardest record I ever recorded” because of how high that bar was set,
stating that “Billy would work on a section of a song for hours” until
he was satisfied.
Though
the record was largely tracked live, Billy was responsible for overdubbing most all the strings on the record, and as much as I hate to admit it, it
may be his unified vision that makes Siamese
Dream sound so iconic. The massive production value, the use of loud/soft
dynamics, and the simply gargantuan layered guitar tones keep this album
resonating almost twenty-five years since its release. It has since become one
of the seminal 90’s albums, a testament to how huge and heavy alternative rock
could become if left in the hands of driven and visionary madmen.
Though
I wouldn’t include Siamese Dream in
my top three Smashing Pumpkins albums, I cannot deny its lasting effect on both
myself and the world. The Pumpkins manage in thirteen songs to assemble an
entire world of sound and feeling, and deliver it on an impeccable platter of
production that manages to be both polished and wholly sincere. Siamese Dream deserves every single
accolade it has garnered, and despite my periodic misgivings about it, I still
find myself coming back for more. It is both an icon and an inspiration, and if
I can someday create music with even an iota of that lasting potential and
power, that can access the human heart as deeply as Siamese does, then I will have truly succeeded as an artist.
