Smashing Pumpkins ***
The Pearl, September 13
Led Zeppelin, The Police and Van Halen might rank as 2007’s hottest reunions, but hordes of rock fans who came of age during the 1990s would argue for the Smashing Pumpkins as the year’s most compelling comeback. At least, I thought they would before I caught Thursday’s tour stop, the band’s first Las Vegas show in more than seven years.
For most of the two-hour concert, the crowd at the Pearl—technically sold out, but showing plenty of open seats—acted as though it were watching the band on television rather than up close in person, declining to stand for most of the night and barely bothering to contribute any noise of its own. In part, the Pumpkins were responsible (which means head Pumpkin Billy Corgan was to blame, since he calls all the shots), opening with a jammed-out, 12-minute version of new-album cut “United States” that sucked all potential energy from the building.
After a slow start that also included a sleep-inducing take on “Bullet With Butterfly Wings,” however, the quintet—originals Corgan and drummer Jimmy Chamberlin and newcomers Jeff Schroeder (guitar), Ginger Reyes (bass) and Lisa Harriton (keyboards), dressed in matching white Polyphonic Spree-meets-Clockwork Orange droogs getups—provided most of the elements for a powerful, if not quite momentous, experience. With a tightness belying their few months together, the five musicians fluidly blended hits old (“Tonight, Tonight,” “1979”) and new (“Tarantula,” “Doomsday Clock”), longtime fan favorites (“Hummer,” “Drown”) and lengthier vehicles for Corgan’s guitar-piloted explorations. Corgan even added a four-song acoustic bit, presenting two tunes totally alone and two with Chamberlin, introduced by the shiny-domed Pumpkins commander as his “life partner.”
Might the presence of Corgan’s other one-time collaborators, guitarist James Iha and bassist D’arcy Wretzky, have resulted in a more transcendent happening? Much as I’d like to say yes, I can’t, at least not musically speaking. Though Iha’s guitar work might have served as a better counterpoint for Corgan’s, Schroeder and Reyes never sounded out of place. Then again, the mere sight of the founding foursome might have inspired a more enthusiastic response, which ultimately could have sired a more memorable finish.
As it was, the band limited its encore to one song, “Cherub Rock,” frankly more of a reward than the lame-even-by-Vegas-standards audience really deserved.