It would be wrong to describe this insanely enjoyable operatic, theatrical show as being strictly Pumpkins. Despite its visionary leader Billy Corgan making one-off appearances during the two Southbank shows this week, this is not The Smashing Pumpkins augmented by an orchestra. Instead, Corgan, all Nosferatu and nineties snarl, appears only sporadically to perform songs like “Tonight, Tonight” and, of course, “1979'”.
But it would be right to call this performance big, and indeed clever, partly because the original album it draws from - 1995's Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness - is such an era-defining record, not just for fans like me, but also for the band themselves.
But still, James Iha and faithful drummer Jimmy Chamberlain, Billy's long-standing musical collaborators, are not here: and for once, unlike their recent outdoor and arena shows, these two are not needed. Billy is surrounded by a 50-piece orchestra, a 40-person choir, and four extremely capable opera singers. It's also extremely eye-popping, visually, in the context of London's relatively intimate South Bank.
But make no mistake, for fans, this is an exhilarating, immersive way to revisit this epic double album. Opening with the title track, the jagged guitar licks are replaced by orchestral swells and soloists, and with frontman Billy Corgan himself refusing to take all the main stage credit for himself, it always feels like a real ensemble. What it really does is remind you just how culturally and sonically bullet-proof some of these rock songs really are. “Bullet With Butterfly Wings”, “To Forgive”, “Cupid De Locke”, “Porcelina”, and two bites of the cherry with “Tonight, Tonight”, are all swept along in Act Two and there is a standing ovation at the end where Billy really does look like he's about to sink into the depths of a sunken tomb, murderous glint in his eye intact. He's the ringleader but not the conductor: that job goes to Grammy Award-winning James Lowe, who also deserves a proper nod.
The implications of this are manifest: Nineties albums for richer, older audiences are ripe for reinvention. It could be hip hop, soul or even disco-techno: the music just has to have stood the test of time. But most of all, as audiences demand more bang for their ever-more-expensive buck, shows like this will raise the bar for future album exploration. How long until Lauryn Hill, Erykah Badu or members of Fleetwood Mac attempt something similar? As long as the artists themselves aren't reduced to 3-D hologram, this might be the beginning of a musical fusion. At the risk of resorting to hyperbole (and my companion for the show was in tears several times as the music swelled), both sides of the two Mellon Collie acts were a smash. Could Siamese Dream be next?
