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- teecomb in Pitchfork Leaks Some of the 2008 Lineup Animal Collective rocks so hard. It’s has great melodies and most people who hate on it have only heard one era of them that didn’t...
Since Smashing Pumpkins‘ Zeitgeist is all the buzz here at Superstarcastic, I figured I would bandwagon this little tidbit. If you open up your music sleeve inside your properly purchased non-pirated copy of Smashing Pumpkins, you have may have come upon an image of America’s most loved to be hated celebutant.
(waits a second for you to check. )
No, your eyes have not betrayed you. That is indeed Paris Hilton inside your Zeitgeist insert. No, you do not have herpes. But Billy Corgan may. NME.com has reported that Smashing Pumpkins frontman Billy Corgan took the photos of Hilton, who he had met previously.
Billy Corgan said: “The original idea was we were gonna see if Lindsay (Lohan), Britney (Spears) and Paris would all shoot..(but) Paris I knew personally and hung out with her a few times, and so I asked her…and God bless her, she came, she showed up at 10am on a Sunday morning, sat in the chair, got made up and (I) shot her.”
To you negligent personal assistants out there, this is another situation where someone could have replaced a camera with some form of fire arm and made the world a better place for everyone. Shame on you, Billy Corgan’s personal assistant. Shame on you!
(I feel the need to preface this by basically saying that i tried, folks. I really did try. I swear. I tried to listen to this record with an open mind, despite the Smashing Pumpkins occupying a place in my brain neighboring Weezer and Fall Out Boy, two other bands who make my blood pressure rise and my right eye twitch. That objectivity, however, went out the window a few seconds into Zeitgeist–specifically, when Billy Corgan began singing with that trademark “masturbating ostrich” style he’s perfected over the years. So do keep this in mind when you read this. I tried, but i failed. If you want more even-handed reviews from people who aren’t predisposed to pile on the hate, Borch and Christine are here to hook you up. And now…)
People, help me out. Is there anyone out there anymore who takes Billy Corgan seriously as a musician? Is there anyone out there who doesn’t see him as what he truly is–an egomaniacal snake-oil huckster? Let’s examine the timeline of major album releases, and maybe we’ll see what i’m getting at:
-After the phenomenal commercial success of Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness (which Corgan apparently described as “The Wall for Generation X”–um, hint #1, people), Corgan and the band begin giving interviews saying that conventional rock music is dying and that electronic music is the future, following these proclamations by releasing the electronica-influenced Adore.
-Adore, of course, tanks, leading Corgan to proclaim “um, just kidding about that whole ‘rock is dead’ thing, heh heh.” The band releases Machina/The Machines of God, which is a guitar rock album that also tanks because (i like to think) people finally started smelling bullshit.
-After Machina tanks, and after a period that saw the band actually do something right by trading up for ex-Hole bassist Melissa Auf der Maur, only to completely screw the pooch by then making her pose with the band for this photo (Jesus Christ), the band breaks up. Corgan and drumming trainwreck Jimmy Chamberlin form “supergroup” Zwan, which lasts a whole, what, two years?
-After Zwan goes down in flames, Corgan decides that maybe he should try banking on his own name instead of some random “supergroup,” releasing a solo album. Perhaps predicting that it would sell about as many copies as Warrant’s third record, he announces on the day of the release that he’s getting the old band back together. How does he do this? By taking out a full-page ad in the goddamn Chicago Tribune. Because obviously the news that the Pumpkins are “reuniting” is Very Important and the people of Chicago are sure to give at least one shit, maybe two.
And of course, how was this “reunion” executed? By Corgan and Chamberlin essentially collaborating together on another Billy Corgan solo album, only making sure to call it “Smashing Pumpkins.” Look, you can move the Cleveland Browns to Baltimore, rename them the Ravens, and set up an expansion team called “The Browns” to replace them, but guess what? The team Jim Brown played for is wearing purple and black these days. You can hire a blonde chick bass player and sort of dress her like D’Arcy (seriously, Billy…really?), but all we’re gonna do is laugh at you. And her. Read more »
This is about a week old, but it was brought to my attention only yesterday. Seattle’s venerable weekly, The Stranger, published this amazing “open letter from Billy Corgan” last Tuesday, the release date of his new solo album, Zeitgeist. Nosh on these highlights:
My Dear Friends,
Today is the greatest day you’ve ever known.
Seven years, seven months, and ten days ago, the clock struck midnight, 2000, and the world began turning faster. Back then, I disbanded the Smashing Pumpkins because the new millennium demanded it. A new age needed a new start—cleanliness and unity, not the confused, confusing wreck I let the band become.
We were once the most important band in the world, and everyone—me, you, Courtney Love—knew it. The Smashing Pumpkins drew the line between Black Sabbath, the Bee Gees, and the Cure, and that line caught a generation like a leash around a wayward puppy. We founded Alternative Nation, and the kids and advertisers flocked around. But because the band had become bloated, overbearing, headstrong, because it grew beyond my control, it had to die. I killed it before it killed me.
And now, after all those years of self-imposed obscurity, of forced poetry, of side projects mired in mediocrity and too many guitarists, I bring us, together, here, to the corner of Future Avenue and Now Street. This is our moment! This is our day! This is Zeitgeist! (That’s “Spirit of the Age” in German. Trust me: I’ve read Hegel.)
* * *
As for the music, the critics won’t get it. They never have. My old fans—the ones whose lives were changed by Gish and Siamese Dream—won’t get it. They will complain that the sound is too dense, too severe, too, yes, overbearing. But the New Generation is the one I’m speaking to, the one that needs to know that My Chemical Romance and Panic! At the Disco couldn’t exist without me. Whether they want to know doesn’t matter. This Zeitgeist is not consensual—it’s here, whether you understand it or not.
Here is what you must understand: Nothing has changed since 1999, except my budget. And Pro Tools. I am still the same alt-rock messiah I was. You are still my teenage flock.
Actual letter, or perfectly-executed farce? Well, if it were a real open letter, wouldn’t Corgan have written it to Chicago, in the same manner in which he always subjects his poor, embattered home city? My guess it that it’s fake.
Viva la Stranger. Your parody muscles are well-toned and sinewy.
Just so you know, Kelly Clarkson doesn’t do drugs, because she is a Texan, FROM TEXAS! Hold your gasps, it comes straight from the babe’s mouth. “I have never smoked anything in my life. I’ve never tried any drugs. I wouldn’t do anything that would cause holes in your brain or your nasal cavity. Call me Texan, but I don’t think of marijuana like that.” Well you know what? Marijuana doesn’t think about YOU like that, Miss Independent! 
But wait wait wait, when a Texan leaves its soil, apparently drugs are okay? When in Amsterdam, Kelly Clarkson partook in a (legal) local activity. She ate a marijuana cookie. “It was in Amsterdam,” Clarkson told USA Weekend magazine in a new interview. “It is legal there, and it is not legal here. I don’t ever do anything illegal here.” I’m so confused. So how does she feel about Marijuana? So if it was legal in the U.S. she would smoke pot? I may not be the smartest shed without a tool box… wait let me try that again. I may not be the sharpest box outside the shed. Ermm. Well whatever that stupid metaphor is, I think our dear friend Kelly Clarkson has a case of reefer madness.
I already kind of liked Kelly but now this makes me want to buy her album! Telling off Clive Davis, eating pot cookies, what’s next? …Clarkson for President! Here is hoping she judo chops Darth Cheney in the groin and teabags Dubya because BITCH HAS BALLS! Giggles. That’s cool. I wrote balls.
They want their feuding brothers shtick back. Sigh. Another moment where the vajay-jay is trying to ruin another perfectly good band. Oh vajay-jay, how I rue you.
Caleb Followill, of Kings of Leon, has openly criticized brother Nathan’s decision to marry his long-term groupiegirlfriend, implying that the woman (Oh shit, Kanye) is a gold-digger! But did he get a Pre-nup, WE WANT PRE-NUP!
“If he doesn’t get a pre-nuptial agreement, he’s an idiot,” fumed Caleb.
“Me and him have a lot invested in each other,” he continued to fume. “We started this band. We bought land and houses together. We’ve been best friends since we were little biddy boys. I don’t want him to make mistakes.” Did he just refer to himself as little biddy? Ugh. Oh-kay.
But Caleb’s concerns are more than just personal and financial - he is also certain that this here gold-digger will become a Yoko Ono.
“We have friends in bands who are married and their songs start being watered down because they’re all about the same girl.”
Nathan, brother and drummer extraordinaire, who gave Jessie Baylin his final rose on the Bachelor proposed over tea in New York, retorted - as any whooped decent man would -
“Look at Bono - he’s been married his whole career.”
Okay, looking and… ugh. Isn’t he married to the Edge? Do band members count?
“It’s different for me than it is for Caleb, I’m pushing thirty. It’s always hard when big brother starts devoting time to a girl that would normally be devoted to little brother.”
WTF! Am I the only one grossed out by how they refer to one another? Kings of Leon, musical greatness = social pariahs. WIERDOS!
Source - Drowned in Sound
If you don’t believe me ask Daisy Lowe, daughter of Bush’s front-man Gavin Rossdale. It’s hard to be original when rebelling when your Father for a living is the rock and roll lifestyle. Becoming a coke addict? Too expected. Various ugly tattoos? Too British. Celebrity sex tape? Gross Paris Hilton. So what was poor Daisy to do? Find out after the jump! Apparently NSFW! (Lame. Semi-nudity should be all types SAFE FOR WORK!)
