Smashing Pumpkins/QOTSA Review
April 03 2008

Queens of the Stone Age played the first half of the night in a bourbon rock show heavy with triple-distilled guitar riffs. If there is a man more of a rooster than Josh Homme I'm yet to see him strut about on a stage. With his flaming red crest of hair and a swagger of inter-song banter crowed at the audience there was a lot of cock about him. And that's no double entendre. But can be considered an allusion to the phallic six string slung low about his waist.

Also worth a mention amongst the bands personnel were shirtless drummer Joey Castillo – who made the first peep, setting the rhythm for Turnin' on the Screw while illuminated by blue lights that made his tattoos and body hair meld into what looked like an angry gorilla smashing percussion – and the young bassist Michael Shuman who, according to general consensus, was fucking nuts.

Queens played for a bit over an hour and focused a lot on later releases, particularly Era Vulgaris tracks which suited me fine. The sound came at us a bit washed out which was disappointing but not unexpected at the Entertainment centre which is not notorious for high quality sound at rock shows. Homme regularly stated between industrial guitar solos that he had come here to party and rock the fuck out and his flannel shirt backed him up on this. Highlight of the set would have to the closer, No One Knows, during which a crowd surfer was captured by security and Homme stopped the song, lit up a cigarette and scratched his claws on the stage while lambasting crowd control and anyone else who was against having a good time. They then gradually reassembled the track from the riff up to close the set off nicely. Guitars were downed and off they went to, as I'm told, after-party at Sugar and try and score with Australian girls.

This signaled a half hour intermission as Billy Corgan and the rest of the Smashing Pumpkins v2 finished the last of their vegan dinners and prepared to come on stage. At this point I strolled through the entertainment centre to try and buy a beer only to face massive queues everywhere. I cursed logistics, and mention this because it's important later!


Ten years ago I was in year 8 and suffering that cliché angst that adolescents have where they think everyone is against them but can't name anyone in specific. You know, when you think the world is out to get you before you realize that the world is way too busy dealing with its own shit to even care what you think. Back then the Smashing Pumpkins helped me make sense of this confusing life through therapy in which I would write their lyrics in my school diary and feel like at least I knew there was more meaning to the world than whatever it was that I assumed made it less meaningful.

Ten years later how was I going to feel about these songs now that I'd grown up, could they possibly live up to the expectation I would have had a decade ago? These concerns were not helped when Billy Corgan walked to centre stage wearing a dress. They opened Porcelina of the Vast Oceans and I assumed the majority of the crowd was feeling as uncomfortable about their childhood as I was because there wasn't a whole lot of cheering. It took a few songs to get into what was happening. That was when they played Tonight, Tonight and memories come flooding back. It was good.

Billy Corgan has an interesting personality. His sarcasm is special but it didn't grind me as much as it riled much of the crowd. To me he spoke like someone who was seeking reaction and he got it. It was funny when he said he would be playing an old song and the crowd cheered and then hurt his feelings by making it raucously clear that his old stuff was better than his new stuff. I don't know why he should feel like his integrity was compromised by this. Maybe if I was one of the ring-ins in his new band I'd feel a little under-appreciated though.

There were plenty of highlights in the set that stretched over two hours. Today, The Everlasting Gaze, 1979, Stand Inside Your Love and Adore among others. The crowd I would say appreciated the music but they did not rock the fuck out. It was a challenge to be honest. As with Queens the sound was over-the-top on some guitar work and washed out in others. By this stage I'm also positive everyone had sobered up. This context was worse to the band than the dissing of the new song as far as I'm concerned. I read the AdelaideNow review today and – like everything on AdelaideNow - it was littered with complaints about everything. It's regularly said that Adelaide crowds don't get up for big gigs. A few months ago I was squished in a wall of humans from Adelaide who were sweating buckets to get a few inches closer to another line-their-pockets reformation project, Rage Against the Machine. The difference between the Big Day Out and the Entertainment Centre is sound quality and access to alcohol. I think that's pretty critical.

However lack of crowd participation could not justify how Billy ended the set: a 25 minute flogging of United States off Zeitgeist. I may be jaded but I have a suspicion Billy asks the crowd at every set if they like his old stuff better than his new stuff. If they say old stuff he punishes them with this. (I also don't think anyone's ever said they like the new stuff.) First I'll make it clear that I have no problem with an artist going off on a self-indulgent wank session in front of an audience so long as it's entertaining. The noodlin' that occurred last night was not entertaining. It was as if Billy Corgan had just discovered a performance enhancing, anti-depressant laced nasal spray and his parents had finally left him home alone. With a fascinated grin he just stroked and stroked and stroked off like he nothing planned for the rest of the night (not true, word is he also went to Sugar for vegan cocktails). The masturbation got tedious and gross by the end. During the 90 seconds he spent eating his guitar strings I couldn't help but consider it the metaphorical finger-up-his-own-bum of the pickle paddling. Finally he seemed satisfied and left the stage with a wave to signal that it was time to clap for an encore. Not that an encore is ever guaranteed at these shows but when they don't turn on the lights so we can get out, the crowd has a pretty good idea that there's an encore available and generally won't cheer that hard. Although they might yell out "Billy! Billy! Play some Zwan!"

The encore was a three minute acoustic number that was a tribute to all the diehard fans who followed all their B-Sides the last few years. Everyone wanted Cherub Rock. We deserved Cherub Rock after standing around for half an hour listening self indulgence. Ah well. Despite the dour ending I was still able to remain objective enough to check my mental notes and confirm there had been good moments. Like during Today when, if you'd closed your eyes, you could feel yourself back in the 90's and everything seemed simpler and you just had to keep them shut so you didn't see the skirt.

Walking back to the car I had Turnin' on the Screw stuck in my head though.

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