The Smashing Pumpkins
Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness [30th Anniversary Edition]
UME
Leading up to the 30th anniversary reissue of The Smashing Pumpkins’ seminal 1995 double album Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, the band announced two culinary partnerships: the “Goth Smoothie” by luxury LA grocery chain Erewhon, and three chocolate bars inspired by Mellon Collie tracks, concocted by boutique Chicago chocolatier Vosges Haut-Chocolat. Buy the $345 “super deluxe” reissue itself, and you’ll also get frameable lithographs and a special Smashing Pumpkins tarot deck. Now, whether a $20 smoothie on a menu with other drinks inspired by celebrities can truly claim “goth,” a subculture rooted in DIY ethos, is one question. Another: Why do both the smoothie and the “Tonight, Tonight”–inspired chocolate bar have the trendy algae spirulina in them?
While some will cry “sellout” and many will balk at these price tags, it’s worth remembering that Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness has prevailed in part because of its meticulously curated vision, its ambitious aesthetic experience. There’s an argument to be made that all of this has subsumed the music itself, but that also shouldn’t really be a surprise. Mellon Collie’s Victorian-inspired celestial cover art was drawn from Billy Corgan’s notes by illustrator John Craig; it now adorns posters and whimsigoth Pinterest boards galore. The record, like the “1979” chocolate bar that now accompanies it, was specifically designed to evoke nostalgia. It’s not quite a concept album, but for all of its calls to “crucify the insincere,” Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness relies on what might today be called a bespoke, performed “era”—and, therefore, on people buying into it.
If you do buy into it, the new reissue—a quadruple album, doubling the original and falling just short of the five-sided 2012 deluxe edition—is a delight. It builds off of the already-expansive source material with recently discovered live recordings from the 1996 Mellon Collie tour, capturing the band in their creative prime. Moments of play cut through the infighting that famously plagued them. “And now, we will rock you,” Corgan proclaims like a newscaster at the onset of side three before “Geek U.S.A.” rips from the stage at a San Diego performance. Tracks that were layered and atmospheric in the studio come to life in surprising new ways: “Cupid de Locke” is buoyant, with a clarion spoken-word section. And is that a sitar on “Porcelina of the Vast Oceans”?
Around its initial release, Corgan, then 28, told the Chicago Tribune that Mellon Collie was a farewell to childhood. Its tour was marked by the ugly specter of heroin addiction, which led to the death of touring keyboardist Jonathan Melvoin and the firing of drummer Jimmy Chamberlin—and, eventually, the departure of original bassist D’arcy Wretzky. The reissue, then, is a reach through the ether to innocence, given new meaning 30 years on. In that time, Chamberlin and guitarist James Iha have gotten back together with Corgan, giving The Smashing Pumpkins an unlikely near-complete reconciliation. They now find themselves raging, like rats in cages, together again. “I don’t want to be punk rock and old,” Iha reportedly told Us Weekly for a Pumpkins profile in 1995. And yet.
Can we forgive them for being a little baroque? As I spent time with the new reissue, I found myself drawn back to the “Tonight, Tonight” music video—its silent-film melodrama and Gilliamesque animation, its rich blues and sepia golds. Through it all, there’s Corgan, cast as Willy Wonka and holding his arms out like Peter Pan, asking you only to believe him.
