Dear Smashing Pumpkins,
I would ask you how you’re doing, but the answer couldn’t possibly be “well.”
I heard you’re getting the team—well, almost all of the original lineup—back together for a reunion tour and possibly a new album produced by the legendary Rick Rubin, all while serving the public a side dish of ridiculous, impossible-to-follow drama. That’s a lot of stuff for a band best described as “’90s alternative”!
I know that that mom (bassist D’arcy Wretzky) and dad (frontman Billy Corgan) are fighting right now, and I’m not sure why, but when are they not? Dad’s kind of a crackpot and mom hasn’t been involved with the Smashing Pumpkins since 1999. So, uh, what’s going on?
Here’s what I know: The last few weeks have been bonkers, a saga involving disputes over a shoulder injury (Wretzky’s), if and when Corgan extended invitations for her to rejoin the band, how many songs he would have let her play per show (if less than the full set, that’s fucked), and Wretzky’s bold armchair diagnosis that Corgan “has a brain tumor—he’s always been insufferable.”
I saw that Wretzky shared screenshots with Alternative Nation that prove, if nothing else, Corgan’s an intense quintuple-texter and that the Pumpkins (and, coincidentally, all your fans!) are locked in a he-said-she-said standoff that likely won’t end with the full band ever performing together again. There’s a gap in text which leaves some question as to what Wretzky means when she says “I’m sorry for what I’m going to do right now” (D’arcy please....release the full transcripts, I need this,) but you know the public merry-go-round must’ve gotten her upset—and with good reason. So, uh, guys—what are you doing?
I was in the womb when your famous Siamese Dream album was released, in diapers when Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness entered the world, and came around to both many years after the fact, so I guess that makes me the target audience for your past-its-prime reunion tour. Not to say that it’s a good idea, or something any band should engage in, but the receipts don’t lie—forty-somethings will always come out for this kind of tour, and so will the limited crop of millennials who love James Iha. (Me.)
I’d tell you to get your shit together and overcome your differences for the benefit of everyone involved in the previous paragraph (again: me), but any purist should recognize that D’arcy shouldn’t have to hang around an Alex Jones associate who maybe sees shapeshifters, routinely gets into screaming matches with his bandmates, and doesn’t want her to perform full sets with the band. In other words: Let D’arcy live, and please come to Pittsburgh—I’m in it for the Iha songs.
Someone who was a little boy when the Pumpkins were good (Sorry!)