Musissists — Ego and the Ruination of Music

6 Aug

This is going to be a pretty long piece, so get ready.  But it’s about music, so it’s not so bad.  Promise.

Regular readers of this blog know I harbour deep, long-running hatreds for certain things in life: weakness, pettiness, oppression, hypocrisy, and Bono being among them.

bono U2

But my hatred for that preening jackass aside, the one thing I genuinely love is music. I’ve had a long and healthy love affair with music of all genres quite literally since the womb.

baby wearing headphones

You name it: my CD collection (ho ho, dating myself, aren’t I?) runs the gamut from jazz to funk to opera to rap, rock and country (yes, country) and punk and everything in between – even the occasional pop album. I have always believed that if you love music like I do, you’ll find at least one artist in every genre you can get into. (Editorial aside: to those posers who only claim to love “all” music – unless you’re willing to drive very slowly down a crowded street, unabashedly blasting it from your speakers without feeling embarrassed, you don’t love it. Go back to your Chamillionaire and Akon singles, you liars.)

akon sucks

But as much as I love music, there are always clouds to cover the silver lining. In the music industry there are lots of clouds, one of which has managed to steal my proverbial goat in a big way today.

In a word? Musicians.

axle rose

Now before you get all bent out of shape over such an obviously-overreaching statement and rake me over the coals for it (especially if you happen to be my father – and yeah, I’m looking at you, Dad) let me explain.

I think on some level a lot of musicians are driven by ego. It’s almost unavoidable – as a successful performer you’re met with the adoration of the masses (whether that means ten people crammed into your friend’s front room listening to you cover “Harvest Moon”, or ten thousand people crammed into some stadium listening to you play your own stuff), and it’s pretty hard to avoid the swelled head that comes with that kind of recognition. I can definitely understand this because I fall prey to it myself (I base my self-worth on two things: my blog stats, and the number of swooning women in the audience when I play).

swooning women

But the best musicians I’ve known – the ones I’ve been lucky enough to play with over the years and the ones who’ve influenced what I do – are very good at mitigating their egos. These are players who genuinely appreciate “fans”; the type of people who are welcome at any jam or recording session because a) they’re really good and b) they’re really respectful and cool to be around (read: you can fit their heads through the door). Yeah, I guess you could argue that you need a bit of ego to get ahead in this business, but generally speaking these performers shine on and off stage precisely because they aren’t raging narcissists.

philip sayce

Unfortunately, it seems to me they’re the exception that proves the rule.

An example: when I was a young teen, my friends and I existed in a music-culture dearth. We’d just missed the boat on the whole Seattle grunge movement (I was ten when Cobain died) and all we got on the radio and on MuchMusic was a never-ending shit parade of patently bad techno DJs, boy and girl dance-pop outfits, the first inklings of commercialized hip-hop (as opposed to rap, which was actually good) and the beginnings of that obnoxious post-punk pabulum in which all the bands referenced arbitrary numbers in their names.

sum 41

Thankfully I grew up in a musical household where I got exposed to lots of different music, but as far as the music of “my generation” went, there was precious little out there I could grab hold of and relate to.

That changed in 1995 when I heard the Smashing Pumpkins’ Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness for the first time. I’d not heard much of Corgan and the gang prior to that outside of one or two major anthems from the previous album, so listening to Billy’s whiny vocals paired to a conglomerate of catchy alt-rock and experimental acoustic/multi-instrument/lyric-driven…something…well, I finally felt like someone was speaking to me directly. I distinctly remember the first time I heard Billy sing “I fear that I am ordinary / just like everyone” on a track called “Muzzle” – it was like somebody switched on a light in my head. It was probably the first time I’d ever listened to lyrics where I could confidently stand up and say “Me too!”

smashing pumpkins 1993

My Pumpkins fetish extended backwards from there – in fact, our own Jim Fairthorne was instrumental in introducing me to the rest of their catalogue. We’d sit around his room listening over and over to Siamese Dream, Gish, Pisces Iscariot and a host of B-sides and rarities Jim happened upon over the years. With every new song, every poetic lyric, my teenage fascination grew. I’d read articles in guitar magazines and other music rags detailing how difficult Billy was to work with; how the rest of the band resented his micromanagement and power tripping, but I dismissed it in that characteristically youthful, idealistic way: surely the man who wrote “I’ll tear my heart out / before I get out” was just incredibly dedicated to his music, not some megalomaniacal dictator bending the band to his will.

Yeah. Then Adore came out.

adore smashing pumpkins

Okay, everybody gets a get-out-of-jail-free card when it comes to making a bad record. You can’t please everybody all the time, and to be fair, Jimmy Chamberlain was in rehab at the time, so the band was already fragmented. But refusing to play anything but your new stuff at live shows? Cramming your failed attempt at “going in a new direction” down the throats of your fan base when all they want from you is what you’re actually good at? And then having the gall to say you’re giving up the ghost because you can’t compete with the Britney Spears generation?

billy corgan

Oh, come on Billy. Did you consider the possibility you might have alienated every fan you had with antics like that? I know I was disenchanted in a big way, and I was far from the only one. By the time Machina was released (and to be fair, that was a pretty good album) it was too late. Nobody cared anymore. And things were already so bad between band members (Iha and D’Arcy’s failed relationship, to start, as well as Jimmy’s continued drug problems and the fact that everyone hated Billy) that the band rapidly went the way of the woolly mammoth – extinct, and that’s where it should have stayed.


But Billy Corgan’s ego is massive enough to generate its own gravity, so instead of gracefully retiring into obscurity he launched Zwan – which might as well have been a Pumpkins’ tribute act circa 1993, because upon hearing it I remember thinking “gee, this is pretty good, but I liked it better when it was called Siamese Dream”. It was great, in a darkly ironic way – Corgan doing the singer/guitarist thing, Jimmy on drums, some hipster girl on bass and an Iha clone playing guitar. It was like Bizarro Pumpkins – too weird to survive, thankfully.


And then there was Zeitgeist. A friend and fellow Pumpkins fan from back in the day sent me the single, and I got halfway through it before I threw up a little in my mouth and deleted it from my computer. Again, I wasn’t alone. The response to Zeitgeist (ranking #2 in “most pretentious reunion title ever”, just behind Chinese Democracy) was so poor, I figured even Billy would have to hang up his appropriately-named Born to Lose guitar and go back to Illinois. I mean, check out this juvenile display of him arguing with a fan in New York – isn’t it time to hang it up when you’re fighting with your few remaining fans? Nice comeback by the way, Billy. Clever stuff.

Sadly, not even his fans telling him he sucks was enough to shut him up. March 2009 saw yet another reunion attempt, except this time the only guy to show up was Corgan himself. Even Jimmy Chamberlain had better things to do (one assumes he’s found a hobby other than divesting Asia of all its poppies). According to Corgan, the new songs “sound like spring”, whatever the fuck that means. I’m willing to bet they sound more like an over-the-hill irrelevant former rock icon clinging desperately to a franchise name that once brought him fame and fortune but now rouses nothing but pathos and mild irritation.

billy corgan

I guess I didn’t mention that part – he’s releasing this crap under the Smashing Pumpkins name, despite the fact he’s the only original member left. Oh, and he called D’Arcy a “mean-spirited drug addict” and blamed James Iha for breaking up the band. Apparently Jimmy Chamberlain seems to think it’s Corgan’s “right” to continue under the Pumpkins’ name, but frankly if I were D’Arcy or James, I would be either a) right pissed off at him for running off with the name of something I’d been a major part of creating, or b) running as fast as I could into obscurity to get as far away from this inevitable train wreck as I possibly could. I don’t know about you, but at no point in the last ten years would I have wanted my name and Billy Corgan’s listed in the same place unless the context involved the phrases “broken bottle”, “Corgan’s larynx” and “found innocent – jury applauds public service”.

Ultimately, the whole thing is upsetting to me, because like I said at the beginning of that hate-fest, I was once a devout Pumpkinhead. I respected their integrity – everybody told them releasing a double-disc concept album in 1995 would be career suicide, but they did it anyway, and went on to create what remains to be my favourite modern rock album of that era. But the level of egotism that probably drove Billy to succeed to begin with has led to his utterly laughable downfall. This shit was over years ago, and it’s high time somebody took Old Yeller Corgan out behind the woodshed to tearfully but mercifully end his career at the business end of a twelve-gauge.

old yeller

Come to think of it, maybe Kurt Cobain had the right idea after all – he left the scene (albeit violently and melodramatically) at the height of his popularity; since then his band has shit roses all over the annals of music history and the former members have gone on to be successful musicians in their own right (most notably Dave Grohl), instead of slowly declining into the vaguely amusing shades of a bygone era represented by the ex-Pumpkins.

But the fact that Corgan is still, to this day, dragging the once-proud Pumpkins name through the mud genuinely pisses me off. The idea of a band continuing on without key members isn’t new – witness Roger Waters suing David Gilmour over the rights to the lucrative Pink Floyd name, or Jim Kale getting ownership of the Guess Who name once Bachman and Cummings left (though that situation was resolved amicably). Even today, members of hard-rock band Fear Factory face a similar conundrum – former enemies Burton (singer) and Dino (lead guitar) reconciled after a lengthy feud ending in the disbanding of the original foursome, only to go back out on tour under the Fear Factory name – much to the chagrin of the two ousted members.

fear factory

Ego? Money? What fuels these sorts of feuds? Probably it’s a little of both. Certainly there’s a lot of cash tied up in the Smashing Pumpkins name, just as there would have been in the cases of Floyd, Guess Who and Fear Factory. So why did Waters sue when Cummings and Bachman gave their blessing – and why aren’t the former Pumpkins taking legal action against a guy they don’t particularly like to begin with?

And then there’s the ego – yeah, Corgan started the Pumpkins, and I guess based on that logic you could agree with Jimmy Chamberlain that it’s his “right” to do what he likes with the name. But to me, a band is more than the sum of its front man. The Pumpkins’ sound wasn’t just about Billy’s nasally vocals – Iha’s guitar style is singularly distinctive, as is Chamberlain’s frenetic drumming – if I played you a Pumpkins song right now, you’d recognize it because it all fits in a recognizable way. This archetypal Pumpkins song shows what I mean.

I see it this way: I play in a two-man acoustic band called Nerds With Guitars – I came up with the name and I guess you could call me the “front man”, but it just wouldn’t be Nerds With Guitars if I played with anybody other than “Guitar” Sean May. He’s just as much the band as I am; he’s talented as hell; and in my estimation he’s irreplaceable.

guitar sean may nerds with guitars

Maybe I’m just sentimental because there are only two guys in the band, and it’s not as though I’m not opposed to the idea of a band changing its lineup, but I feel like there should be an amicable agreement about these sorts of things between everyone who helped make a band what it is. To me, the Smashing Pumpkins were a four-piece revolutionary rock outfit borne of a very specific time and place in history by four very unique and talented individuals. Maybe it’s idealistic, but the Pumpkins were, are and always will be Billy Corgan, Jimmy Chamberlain, D’Arcy Wretsky and James Iha – any other band won’t be the same no matter what they call themselves.

I guess my point in all of this is that, even though music is an industry and a commodity, even though it’s about money and marketing and a host of other decidedly non-artistic goals, some part of it still has to be about the music for its own sake. It has to be – otherwise, what the hell are you doing with that guitar? Ego can fuel art, but it also gets in art’s way. And when that happens, the art suffers.

My final word? Quit raping the corpse of your career, Billy Corgan. Let us remember you and your band the way you once were – an eclectic powerhouse that changed the way my generation thought about rock music. Leave the pumpkin where it smashed and move on with your life.

smashing pumpkins

Editor’s Note: This post features the journalistic support of Brent Chittenden of Two Assholes Talking About Nerd Stuff, who is also an occasional contributor to Alan Cross’ Explore Music website.

7 Responses to “Musissists — Ego and the Ruination of Music”

  1. Brent Chittenden August 6, 2009 at 5:05 PM #

    Okay music nerd lesson time:

    Figured I’d chime in with a few additional facts.

    When it comes to band names and why certain people end up using them and others don’t own the rights comes down a lot to what I call “Own Damn Fault” or ODF for short.

    The Guess Who name ownership is one that I had recently question myself and found a good answer in an interview between Randy Bachman and classic rock guru Jeff Woods.

    Esentially what it boiled down to was during the late 90’s before the official reunion of The Guess Who, Jim Kale owed Revenue Canada a crap load of money. He approached the other members of The Guess Who asking for permission to use the name The Guess Who to tour and raise money. It was this iteration of the band that my best friend saw at a county fair in the states. Now comes the ODF moment. Jim did some research and discovered that none of his former band mates had copyrighted the name.

    So guess what Jim did?

    When The Guess Who reformed it was alright but eventually Jim’s cash problems had been cleared up and he stopped being part of the subsequent reunions… but still owned the name. So everytime Bachman and Burton Cummings went out on the road, guess who made a few bucks for nothing?

    Eventually Cummings and Bachman figured out it was cheaper to go by their own names.

    The issues with the battle for Pink Floyd’s name created such bad blood between Waters and the other members that the only time we got to see them together one more time was to help get rid of poverty. And even then there are reports of squabbling during rehearsals.

    But as much as I agree with Alex, that Billy should hang up the name, the fact is, he owns it and can do whatever he wants with it. Myself, if I were him, retire it until you can convince the other three people who made up your band to come back for a tour (or if Darcy is not available, Melissa Auf der Mar is an acceptable replacement…at least she played on an album with James).

  2. ryan August 6, 2009 at 5:15 PM #

    I think Billy’s main downfall happened between 1998 and 2007 when he tried to pull a Madonna by attempting to reinvent himself/his band every album, resulting in frustration when he realized he could only compete with his former self for so long. Then Zeitgeist happened and abolished any shred of hope I had left for the band.

  3. Sean August 7, 2009 at 10:50 AM #

    Another interesting note about the Pink Floyd argument:

    After the whole argument about keeping the name, Roger was incensed enough to sue them over the continued use of the floating pig, claiming that it was his intellectual property.

    Because of this jerk-move, Gilmour, Wright and Mason decided to change the IP, by making the pig anatomically correct. Waters’ creation didn’t incorporate a gigantic pig-penis and their new IP now did – end of suit.

    As for Billy… …I hate to say “I told you so”, but this man just doesn’t really get it…
    Corgan, if you’re reading this: you’re not as popular as David Bowie. You can’t reinvent yourself every two years and expect to keep your fans.

    Not only that, but Bowie has also been smart enough so that when he does reinvent himself, even if there are people who fall off for a while, and can’t get into his new style… …his music is still marketed to SOMEBODY.
    I agree that you should write music for yourself, instead of for your audience, because as soon as you stop writing because you have nothing to say, you’ve become a shell of your former self…
    …but if you’re going to write auditory-masturbation, don’t expect all of your old fans (or anybody, for that matter) to follow along with it.

    Write something for you, or write something for them. Don’t expect both to make you popular – it’s one or the other.

    “Tell me, tell me what you’re after – I just want to get there faster”
    Billy, I’m after you not sucking.
    …and if you’re going to beat me to it, then you’ve got to pull a 180, or find a time machine, my friend, because you’re racing in the opposite direction.

  4. machoman August 9, 2009 at 4:23 AM #

    thank you! I really liked this post!

  5. Moot. August 10, 2009 at 9:59 AM #

    Fear Factory aren’t touring anytime soon. They’re spending their time in court at the moment fighting this one out. All I can say is the person who manages them is a cunt who ruined one of the best metal bands from the 90s.

    Billy Corgan is Moot.


  1. The Day The 80’s Died: Thoughts on John Hughes « State of Affairs - August 7, 2009

    […] six following years kind of went over my head. I’m much more a child of the 90’s (see yesterday’s post). But I have typically associated with people somewhat older than me (almost all of my friends are […]

  2. Give It Away Now: The Rise of Free Music « State of Affairs - September 21, 2009

    […] remember, my friends and co-conspirators, a few weeks ago I posted an article detailing my deep disappointment with our old pal Billy “it’s my band and I’ll be a douche if I want to” Corgan and […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: