Due to personal reasons, I had to take a little break to deal with a lot of the utterly unfun but very real day-to-day issues. Nothing serious, but it was all very time-consuming.
But I’ve returned, and I have my sights set on one man: William Patrick Corgan.
I always found the Smashing Pumpkins to be a bit “homeless” when one looks at their musical time period. They were lumped in with other alternative bands somewhat gratuitously. Corgan was no punk, whereas the majority of his contemporaries grew up with the sound of the 1980s underground in their ears. Corgan was more Pink Floyd than Black Flag, more of a jester in King Crimson’s court than a punker.
There are stories of jealousy between him and Kurt Cobain, stories of Corgan’s massive ego, and resentment at his public perception. It’s not without merit for him to feel that way; he was decidedly unsexy and pretty benign next to his contemporaries. His music was intriguing, but to me, sounds pretty boring when you’ve heard My Bloody Valentine (I can’t help but think of Siamese Dream as a blatant and shameless pilfering of their sound).
Regardless of Corgan’s also-ran status, what allegedly went down between him and a transgender advocate and guitar effects pedal maker is shocking, and frankly, a little scary.
What I find most troubling about the entire thing is the poor woman’s almost betrayal that someone who she thought was a proud freak could act like such a hateful square. As I said, Corgan is a noted diva, but I feel horrible for the poor woman.