Review: Smashing Pumpkins' 'Gish' -35th Anniversary Edition

Smashing Pumpkins debuted in the year of grunge, and though they fit in pretty nicely with that scene's predilection for grimy guitars and self-pity, there was something else going on. The scene lauded punk-level skills, but Billy Corgan and Jimmy Chamberlin were virtuosos, the latter seeming pretty well versed in jazz technique. Along with the noise typical of grunge, there were dreamy waves of psychedelia and goth. Plus Corgan had an innate sense of melody largely absent from grunge, with the exceptions of Kurt Cobain and Mark Lanegan. The Pumpkins were also capable of debuting with a remarkably consistent album that even Nirvana couldn't match with their own first effort. Though it doesn't swell with alterna-hits the way Smashing Pumpkins' next two albums would, Gish may still be their strongest album. At least it's my personal favorite.

Review: Smashing Pumpkins' 'Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness' 30th Anniversary Set

Just four years after a super-cool and stripped down debut, and two after a more elaborately produced alternative-radio hit-machine, Smashing Pumpkins unleashed the kind of madly ambitious set a group usually reserves for much later in their career. But, in the heady alternative rock hey-day, one never knew how long their band would last, especially a band as a volatile as Smashing Pumpkins, so I guess Billy Corgan figured he'd better not fart around too much.

The kind of elephantine project Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness turned out to be tends to be full of farting around, and yet, as gargantuan as this set is, it's short on pointless noodling, a much bigger hit-delivery vehicle than Siamese Dream (four of its singles went Top Forty on Billboard's Hot 100; nothing on the previous album pulled that trick), and shockingly consistent. That's saying a lot because in a lot of ways, the Pumpkins' third album almost plays like a parody of ambition. While releasing a double-album is traditionally a band's way of making a big, serious, artistic statement, releasing a triple-one is more like announcing a serious break from reality (just ask The Clash). Releasing a quadruple one? There isn't even an armchair-shrink assessment for that kind of folly. But that's basically what Smashing Pumpkins did in 1995. Sure, the CD release fit on just two discs, but those were two jam-packed CDs. They made a triple-disc set necessary when Mellon Collie was released on vinyl in Europe the following year, but only a quadruple-disc set would allow the album to play out in its intended running order and without any sides piling on so many tracks that they started to ooze out of audiophile territory.

Review: 'Lollapalooza: The Uncensored Story of Alternative Rock's Wildest Festival'

Lollapalooza didn't begin as the only annual rock festival that mattered. It was to be nothing more than Jane's Addiction's farewell tour, with, at Perry Farrell's behest, the added novelty of several genre-spanning guests, booths with political activists of all stripes, and burritos. It was only after that first tour bucked all logic to become an actual financial success that Lollapalooza became a brand. In came Pearl Jam,  the freak shows, The Smashing Pumpkins, Courtney Love,  a highly unpopular Ferris Wheel, Sonic Youth, and eventually, people like Metallica and Korn.