Pumpkins to Smash on Hollywood Sidewalk

Because public opinion on the Smashing Pumpkins varies wildly, I am going to take it upon myself to break the news on this one. Let me tell you why: I … pause … love … wait … the Smashing Pumpkins. Ever since my first college roommate incessantly played their albums, introducing me to songs other than radio hits (his second sentence directed towards me was “Have you heard Siamese Dream?”), the free, selfless release of young angst in that band’s music never stopped being so purely beautiful.

The brilliant strain in Billy Corgan’s sharp, gritty voice and the wild, old-world fury in his blow-out guitar riffage released the pent-up stress of school life more than any bar or party could. “Muzzle” isn’t a song, it’s an exclamation of pride, it’s the exaltation of recklessly throwing one’s own arrogance in everyone’s face. “Soma” isn’t a song, either, it’s the cool blanket of contentment that settles over a distraught mind frame, comforting and soothing until finally giving way and erupting into an indulgent, electric chaos. The fact that both came out of the same creative powers speaks to the complexity of expression behind them, and the refusal to be restricted to one simple image or direction. Up until the band started running out of gas midway through Machina, their passion could start and end wars.

So the announcement is a little late that the Smashing Pumpkins, one of the most self-righteous and conflicted bands of the ‘90s, is being inducted into Hollywood’s RockWalk, NME reported Monday. Corgan and drummer Jimmy Chamberlin will be present to squish their hands into the cement adorning the entrance to the Sunset Boulevard Guitar Center April 23. Though the ceremony will lose something for the lack of James Iha and D’Arcy, whose whereabouts are not reported, I will still be straining to get a view, after which I will likely be going home and playing guitar loudly and obstinately. Why? Because fuck you, that’s why.