"MACHINA: ARANEA ALBA EDITIO"
THE SMASHING PUMPKINSTHE SMASHING PUMPKINS:
Jimmy Chamberlin: Drums, Percussion
William Patrick Corgan: Vocals, Guitars, Bass Guitar, Keyboards
James Iha: Guitars, Bass Guitar, Vocals
D'Arcy Wretzky: Bass Guitar
with
Mike Garson: piano "With Every Light," "If There Is A God" and the three variations of "Le Deux Machina
All music and iyrics by William Patrick Corgan except
""Innosense" music and lyrics by William Patrick Corgan and James Iha
"Go" and "Rainy Day Song" music and lyrics by James Iha
Original album "MACHINA/the machines of God"
Produced by Flood and Billy Corgan
"MACHINA: Aranea Alba Editio"
Executive Producer Billy Corgan
Released October 2025
When The Smashing Pumpkins originally disbanded in the year 2000, I actually began crying.
I remember that moment vividly. I was grocery shopping, my ever present headphones strapped to my ears, listening to The Smashing Pumpkins' wistful, elegiac song "If There Is A God" from their self-released, vinyl only, free download shared and (then) essentially final studio effort "Machina II: The Friends and Enemies of Modern Music" (released September 5, 2000), which arrived mere months after "MACHINA/the machines of God" (released February 29, 2000).
It was days between their mammoth homecoming performance at Chicago's United Center on November 29, 2000 and their (again, then) final performance, on December 2, 2000, a marathon, nearly five hour encapsulation of their career at Chicago's The Metro, the very club at which the band played their first performance twelve years prior. In my mind's eye as I walked through the grocery store, images I had seen in that day's morning paper from the United Center show, from the band themselves and the emotional faces of the fans in attendance, everything that had grown inside of me in my own relationship with The Smashing Pumpkins since 1994, welled up and suddenly overflowed out of me.
Of course, bands break up. It had happened before and certainly would happen again. But, for an inexplicable reason, The Smashing Pumpkins reaching its conclusion, with such apparent finality, hit me in such a deeply soulful heart space.
I guess it felt as if I was losing my friends forever...and it broke me.
As I write and remember this 2000 moment from my vantage point 26 years later, it is staring to me. We now live in a time at which the story of The Smashing Pumpkins has taken so many twists and turns, from a variety of band lineups, departures, and the full return of both original band members James Iha and Jimmy Chamberlin--plus the spectre of former original member/bassist D'Arcy Wretzky still haunting the proceedings for some areas of the fan base (and who knows, maybe even for the band members themselves)--that the band feels fully risen up from the ashes like the proverbial phoenix.
Since the 2007 reformation, and the full reunion with Iha and Chamberlin's return in 2016, an enormous amount of music has been amassed and released, including two conceptual works from the double album "CYR" (released November 27, 2020) and the triple album rock opera "ATUM" (released May 5, 2023). They have also recently performed as headliners during this year's Lollapalooza festival and are set to take on a n ew fall tour celebrating last year's 30th anniversary of their towering achievement "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness" (released October 24, 1995), of which I will be in attendance in October.
It is feeling as if the band has come full circle, arriving at a period in which they are not only performing at their peak, they remain creatively vibrant and culturally relevant and younger fans are discovering their discography without the baggage of their 90's heyday and controversies in tow, now being able to experience the full body of work in any way they choose. All of this is a testament to the band certainly, but to bandleader Billy Corgan unquestionably as his sheer tenacity, especially during several stages at which he could have ended the entire enterprise with no looking back, undoubtedly carried him through extremely difficult phases, of which the rewards are sweeping in presently.
And yet, there seems to be still one hugely significant stone in the Pumpkins universe that is in need of being overturned, being reacquainted with and therefore, a new understanding and re-appraisal, from Corgan and the band as well as listeners...and that is indeed the work that marked The Smashing Pumpkins' original end, the dense, dizzying, meta-textual, far reaching work known as "MACHINA."
For context, the "MACHINA" saga is the extremely difficult middle portion of a trilogy begun with the aforementioned "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness" and concluded (?) with "ATUM" (although, it feels as if whatever storyline exists carries through the entire discography, but I digress...), and starring Billy Corgan's alter ego in three distinct phases of evolution with "Zero" in the first part, "Shiny" in the third and with "Glass" in the middle.
For additional context, it is necessary to recount the history of the band circa late 1997-2000. After reaching the pinnacle of success with "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness" through album sales and industry awards attention, tragedy struck the band while on tour as drummer Jimmy Chamberlin was fired from the band due to his drug addictions at that time, resulting in the drug overdose death of touring keyboardist Jonathan Melvoin. The Smashing Pumpkins continued onwards with touring as well as the difficult artistic growth with creating their grim, mournful, devastatingly beautiful 4th album "Adore" (released June 2, 1998), an unfairly maligned but now deeply appreciated work that proved divisive, confusing and even alienating fans and critics alike.
Feeling the tide turning culturally, with the gleam of pop stars and the call of hip-hop rising and rock music fading, Corgan decided to call it a day for the band, inviting Chamberlin back into the fold with the idea of making one final album and tour. Reuniting with Flood as Producer, The Smashing Pumpkins began working on what Corgan was devising as a conceptual experience during the band members would all perform exaggerated versions of their real personas entirely through the process leading to their disbanding, an ending of which the music would also represent. They embarked upon a short club tour dubbed "The Arising!," road testing new material yet by tour's end, interpersonal tensions exploded again with the departure of D'Arcy Wretzky, due to her frictions with Corgan, plus her desires to become an actress and most crucially, her own issues with drug addictions. To this day, Wretzky has largely stayed completely out of the public eye.
Now, with The Smashing Pumpkins working as a trio, with both Corgan and Iha trading bass guitar duties in the studio plus essentially having to start over again, Corgan's conceptual visions were already fracturing, internal tensions still rising and the record company industry's refusal to release the demanding new material in the double album format Corgan originally intended due to the comparatively lackluster sales of "Adore." Corgan continued to write, the band continued recording, recruited bassist Melissa Auf der Maur for the upcoming tour, finally released the truncated "MACHINA/the machines of God" in early 2000, and only Billy Corgan continued to exist within his Glass persona during interviews and the tour as Iha and Chamberlin quickly tired of the charade themselves.
The band's (then) final show on December 2, 2000 occurred and reportedly, James Iha exited the venue immediately after the show's conclusion without saying goodbye to anyone, a gesture I believe upended Billy Corgan over the following 16 years during which neither of the two men spoke.
Now, all of this backstory is not simply necessary but is essential to even begin understanding exactly what the story of "MACHINA" actually is as through Billy Corgan's songs, we are receiving the story of Glass as a mirror image of what was happening in reality and in real time during that period. It is an approach that is very much akin to both Prince and even Charles M. Schulz's "Peanuts" comic series as for those artists, their entire lives existed within their material but were always presented in ways where we, as listeners and readers, were not quite able to discern the honestly within the layers of artistry.
As a conceptualist, Billy Corgan performs the exact same feat with "MACHINA," and now, after a quarter of a century, we can finally experience the work as Corgan originally intended with the arrival of "MACHINA: ARANEA ALBA EDITIO," the definitive collection, currently only available on vinyl in an 8 album set, containing the complete 48 track "MACHINA" storyline, remastered in full reconfigured sequencing, plus another 32 tracks recorded during this period.
While I have long expressed that even though "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness" is my favorite album by The Smashing Pumpkins, several of the band's subsequent albums are even better! After hearing this reconstituted version of "MACHINA," which merges the original two albums together plus previously unreleased and even newly recorded material, I am truly wondering if this is The Smashing Pumpkins' defining masterpiece. It is a work of such devotional power, wrenching multi-dimensional emotional territory and a titanic musical presentation that exists as amalgamation of the raw, the polished and the nearly indescribable as I do think there has not been a Pumpkins album to sound quite like this one before or since.
As this is a vinyl only (and highly expensive) release--as CD versions and streaming are seemingly held up due to ongoing legal/label issues--I am thankful to have had the opportunity to hear the entire boxed set. At this time, I want to present to you a journey through the 48 song narrative--essentially 5 acts--as best as I am able. While Billy Corgan himself has indeed written and posted the narrative online, and within the boxed set, thee are still avenues that remain unclear. For this, I am going to openly and thankfully piggyback upon the thoughts and commentaries of both Frank Garcia-Hejl, host of the extraordinary podcast entitled "The Smashing Pumpkast," and his excellent-and frequent-guest Justin of "The Deep Dive" as they created an extensive and compulsively listenable exploration into the entire boxed set and the impressions they presented felt more than comfortable to what I was feeling as I listened to the album. I will add my own impressions throughout.
and now...
MACHINA: ARANEA ALBA EDITION-ACT ONE
Our story opens with the ominous, largely synthetic instrumental "Le Deux Machina," which leads us into what might be considered the overture, "Stand Inside Your Love," which provides the soaring romance between Zero and his true love, June. "I Of The Mourning" sets the plot in motion, as Zero stinging from his previous musical statement being misunderstood (I am thinking this is a representation of the response to "Adore"), retreats to his "attic underneath the stars," tearfully reading fan letters as he attempts to try to compose again after unearthing his guitars. He turns on the radio, and through the static he hears a specific sound, which he receives and questions if it is solely designed for his ears as the emotions stirred feels so uniquely primal. The following instrumental/sound collage "God's Promise," is a depiction of what Zero hears.
"The Crying Tree Of Mercury" arrives next and here is where both the new placement of the song in the album sequence, compared to its placement very late in the original album sequence, combined with the opinions of Garcia-Hejl and Justin, afforded me the opportunity to hear the song in a completely new way, delivering a greater intent and purpose to a track that I felt sort of plodded. Justin utilized the word "ancient," in his description and that word completely unlocked the song's lyrical content and musical presentation, which does feel as if it is something that is a futuristic version of a sound from before time.
"This is the song I've been singing my whole life," Zero declares. "This is the sound I've been making my whole life...These are the tears I've been crying my whole life," he continues, discovering a spiritual connection to the almost music box theme emanating through the radio static, which he believes to be the voice of God delivering a message, and therefore, a mission.
Morning arrives with the ragged and woozy "Slow Dawn," which juxtaposes the late night dwellers heading home and the early morning risers with Zero's newfound sense of purpose.
"...and I don't know what it is
I'm gonna run the slow dawn
seeking solemn oaths of faith
I'm gonna run the slow dawn away
It's blessed and done
And I'm burnt and around
And I'm not sure what it is
But I'm sure that I could give it away..."
Zero's transformation into his next phase as Glass begins with "The Sacred and Profane," as his sense of enlightenment due to hearing the word of God through the radio has become the message he wishes to spread to the world. "Give me tears/Give me love/Let me rest/Lord above/Send your bored/Your restless/The feedback-scarred devotionless," Zero/Glass intones. "You're all a part of me now/And if I fail/You're all a part of me now."
"The Everlasting Gaze," signals Zero's full rebirth as Glass ("You know I'm not dead") and his re-branding of The Smashing Pumpkins as The Machines Of God as the collectively preach the Good News to his fans, "The Ghost Children," who are "found below, the creatures scream," as the band performs from the stage. "Here's To The Atom Bomb" depicts Glass' proselytizing, beseeching his fans to blow up all of the means of the past in order to claim the "little piece of heaven" we are all searching for.
Glass' message from the rock star pulpit continues in "Wound," during which he proclaims a unity between himself and fans, that his journey is their journey in this life that is collectively shared.
"If you wait, I will wait
Taste, I will taste
If you love, I will love
Run, I will run
To my last breath"
As Act One closes, Glass reveals his struggles to the world and the means of his evolution. "Last night I turned around and thought I watched the world ending," he states. "Inside the crushing, I felt a pang, the tide was turning."
The new path and purpose for Glass has arrived...but through fame, excess and constant scrutiny, will it last?
MACHINA: ARANEA ALBA EDITIO-ACT TWO
The under two minute, speed metal attack of "Glass' Theme," finds Glass and the Machines of God on their latest rocket ride, with the band cracking under the pressure. Glass in particular finds himself in a rapidly deteriorating state as the principles of his message from God--which he may be fearing are delusions-are clashing with all manner of celebrity and rock star megalomania ("Hold all my calls, I'll be by the pool," Glass sneers, while also admitting, "I'm alone all in my soul/I've betrayed rock and roll.") It is all too much, too fast and in a moment of psychological despair, Glass expresses the worst: "I'm shattering, shattering...glass glass glass/I'm shattering fast...I'm Glass, I'm Glass."
The monolithic "Heavy Metal Machine" depicts The Machines Of God grinding onwards on the endless album-tour cycle, more explicitly painting a picture as presented in the classic "Bullet With Butterfly Wings," when Billy/Zero sang, "But can you fake it for just one more show?"
Here, and especially via the long controversial lyric, "If I were dead, would my records sell?," we are gaining further insight into celebrity culture, of which integrity and humanity exists in decreasing supply when there is money to be made and fans to placate, often failing both in the process. Glass ponders his own worth in a world where there is increased disregard for artistic growth, plus more value in past efforts to the degree that his eventual death would be seen as a business proposition to further monetize, and therefore exploit, the back catalog rather than invest in him as a person, his gifts as an artist and therefore, the sincerity of his mission from God. It is a song of explicit dehumanization.
In the frantic, pounding "Blue Skies Wrought Tears," The Machines Of God reach an unexpected implosion through a lyrical onslaught of apocalyptic imagery.
"Rain rusts the creaking masses
Wind blows the temples down
Blood fills the exit tunnels
Streaking out of town"
Glass may not have shattered just yet, but his band has with a seismic departure, threatening the trajectory and therefore, the validity of God's promise...because can it be believed if everything is falling apart?
With the following three selections, the moody instrumental "Pale Scales," the raw "Vanity" and the tender, acoustic instrumental transition piece "Autumn," respectively, it is especially here where Fran Garcia-Hejl and Justin from "The Deep Dive" provided seriously perceptive interpretations that I felt honestly shed light during this part of the narrative.
For "Pale Scales," an instrumental performed live and even heard as the background music for The Smashing Pumpkins' "Greatest Hits Video Collection 1991-2000," both hosts noted that the bass guitar part, once performed by D'Arcy Wretzky, has now been replaced by a keyboard bass line...signifying Wretzky's absence from the band! To that end both hosts posited that "Vanity," while deeply coded might actually a song either about or directed towards Wretzky with its lyrics describing the following:
"You can hear the baby bones
Crack beneath her wheels
Tears of avalon streak silent down her shield...
(referencing Wretzky's icy stage persona masking her extreme stage fright)
...you've lost me
In a haze of wine and cocaine
gone out and cost me everything I'd blame
Broadcast in T.V. detail
To color old stories
As I try to recapture
The best in former glories.."
(referencing Wretzky's addictions)
We'll never know for certain, and Billy Corgan for all of his loquaciousness, may never fully share. But to my ears, as I listen, I do think that the podcast hosts hit on something valid, which indeed does merge the real world history of the band with the fictional dramatic narrative, giving Billy Corgan the person and Glass the character a shared obstacle to the overall plan, which was then currently in the process of being executed.
"Machina, Machina," all Mahler by way of John Carpenter keyboards augmented by a lonely, yet gorgeously spiraling E-Bow guitar solo elicits a passage of time transition during which Glass re-groups with the remaining members of The Machines Of God, as well as his spirit, in order to continue God's mission as perceived and believed by Glass.
"Rain falls on everyone," sings Glass in the galloping "Raindrops + Sunshowers," slightly extended from its original album form. Not one of us is immune to any manner of trials and tribulations in life, not even messianic rock stars like Glass. But to his band and his fans, he promises to say the course regardless, even as he is suffering his own losses, even as he tries to retain his sense of humility despite the celebrity status. "I'm just trying to walk with you between the raindrops."
Tragedy strikes in the nearly 10 minute epic "Glass and the Ghost Children," whose three part structure from the original album remains but the middle section has now been fully altered. On the original album, we have a spoken word interlude with the "Machina" melody on piano in the background, as we hear what appears to be a therapy session starring Glass pondering if he is actually hearing the word of God or if he is going insane, making the destruction of the band a self-fulfilling prophecy. On this remastered version, the spoken word interlude has been excised and has been replaced with a sound collage depicting the fate of June, who has lost herself in drug addiction and hallucinations leading to a car crash on a dark and stormy night.
As Glass rushes to her side in the hospital, June is unable to recognize him and she soon dies...making the final sound of the song her flatline.
MACHINA: ARANEA ALBA EDITIO-ACT THREE
If "Adore" had been created as a more explicitly rock album, than the folk-electronica hybrid we know, I am curious if it might have sounded like this section of the "MACHINA" story, as it is as much about the turbulence of grief, loss, mourning and the precarious nature of faith as that aforementioned album.
As Justin from "The Deep Dive" expressed, the thunderous "Real Love," is "a glorious mess." Sonically, it is a euphoric pop song filtered through waves of fuzz and distortion, ensuring that what we are hearing is never a clean sound despite how glistening the melodies are.
June's death shakes Glass to his core as he reflects on their love, their fall out and, now the question of life, now that she's gone.
"Fall into the century on supersonic cross
Blessed she, an aching silence, eternal loss
Calling out a warm surrender, a locket of her hair
Sympathize her pious pleasures
Thrown down the stairs
Into the dark again..."
The blasted out punk rock, cyber metal fuzz of "The Imploding Voice," finds Glass growing more disillusioned, yet somehow remaining with his supposed mission from God for how can he still "wanna crawl through all the broken glass"?
The acoustic/Mellotron/strings based "One Moment"--a clear cousin to "Disarm"--finds Glass making a crucial decision to continue carrying on with his mission despite the confusion and devastating losses engulfing him, for there just must be some purpose to all of these experiences, right? Some meaning, some answer to illuminate his relationships between himself and June, his band, his fans, rock and roll and God. "I'm praying for the strength to will/One moment greater than myself," he pleads.
The wind blown psychedelic autumnal swirl of "Speed Kills," the electronic drowsy dream reprise of "Here's To The Atom Bomb, Too," and the masterful, wistfully wrenching "Try, Try, Try," provide of trilogy of Glass speaking to himself (as "Pop Tart") dusting himself off from wounds endured in order to just keep placing one foot in front of the other when he otherwise would curl up and fade into darkness.
Glass emerges from solitude through the furious chaos of "White Spyder"--again via excellent commentary from Frank Garcia-Hejl and Justin from "The Deep Dive," we are hearing another song of transformation as the white spider represents a spiritual meaning of renewal, purity and higher awareness. For Glass, is this purity or hubris as the relentless roar of the song signifies (possibly) ascension or destruction as grieving fuels Glass' fire. "I am, I am, Newborn man...Messiah hands...Yeah."
We take a bit of a breather with "One Less Moment," a solo acoustic demo sounding selection where Glass confidence is shown as a shield for the doubt and worries he houses before stepping out into the world one more time with The Machines Of God as they prepare one final show, everything hinging upon the mere moments passed and yet to arrive.
What is an honest spiritual calling in a world where "everybody's business is everybody's business"? The extraordinary "Cash Car Star" says it all with a satirical cultural commentary merged with Glass and the Machines Of God re-entering the pop culture cyclone with all of its vices, trappings, temptations and inhumanity.
It's time to take the stage one last time...
MACHINA: ARANEA ALBA EDITO-ACT FOUR
With one brief false start, Glass and the Machines Of God open their final concert with the pile driving, punishing "Dross." Armed with one of their meanest riffs, Glass performs a song of self laceration, holding himself up as an idol wile simultaneously tearing himself down ("You say I'm beautiful/ Well, I can't help it/You say I'm empty/We all know I'm full of shit") while continuing to proselytize...
"Some will let you eat their razor blades
Let you wave a flag in their crusade
Spill your blood inside their parade
America the beautiful..."
Glass proclaims himself as being "loaded, knocked out, sky high" and "flat out deadly true." He acknowledges that he knows that the public, and even his band, feels that he's "lost control" and he's "growing cold," but is he also fearing those views for himself? Has he lost the plot due to his own delusions, narcissism and self-aggrandizement?
I often wonder what indeed goes through the minds of performers while on stage during tours that I am certain can feel endless due to their treadmill pace as there is the romance of performing as opposed to the reality. I think here is the point in the story where it splits into more multi-levels of the band performing and Glass' interior thoughts while performing. With the propulsive "Lucky 13" happening on stage, we also phase into the dissonant, Nine Inch Nails adjacent "HMM," a reprise of the "Heavy Metal Machine" theme with different lyrics and even an incorporated musical aside referencing "Lucky 13."
The ballad "Without You" may serve as a bridge between the internal and external as Glass faces his fears inherent in the song title's inevitability as the "you" in question could be the collective of June/the band/the fans and even God and the end is nearing with every passing song culminating in the increasingly interior and ethereal passages of "Winterlong," the "you'll miss me when I'm gone" kiss off of "Laugh" ("If they didn't know you then/What makes you think they know you now"), and the stunning, heartbreaking "If There Is A God."
On the podcast, Justin of The Deep Dive recounted an anecdote Billy Corgan addressed in a past interview (which I also remember hearing/reading). Corgan recalled being a small child listening to a Beatles album and being particularly struck by the song "Little Child," essentially the spark that ignited that inexplicable piece of his soul..."the song" he ultimately has been singing his whole life.
"If There Is A God" exists in a space that is at its most innocent and for Glass, we are reverting back to a time when he was not in this form. When he wasn't the "Pop Tart" or the "Heavy Metal Machine." When he wasn't even Zero. This is William Patrick Corgan as his purest self, Billy the child. With a piano and vocal at its most delicate augmented with pianist Mike Garson's twilight flourishes, we are hearing what is essentially The mashing Pumpkins' version of "When You Wish Upon A Star" merged alongside John Lennon's "God," during which he sang "I was The Walrus/But now...I'm John/And so...dear friends, you'll have to carry on/The dream is over."
We return to the final concert in full with the eye duct waterfall inducing "This Time," Corgan/Glass's self described "love letter to the band," detailing that the dream is over, and the forced change of departure has arrived, whether ready or not, and it is painfully aching all the same.
"This time I need to know
I must be really told
That it's over...
...and it haunts me so
What are we letting go
Our spell is broken...
...Someday we'll wave hello
And wish we never said goodbye
To this romance
We'll drink up every line
And shoot up every word
Til it's no more..."
It is not solely a goodbye. It is a death. It is the stage of transition where an ending has to occur for anything new to begin.
With "Blue Skies Bring Tears," the curtain falls for good...and James exits the scene without acknowledging the history made, the roads traveled, the relationships built and the music created.
It is fully destroyed.
MACHINA: ARANEA ALBA EDITIO-ACT FIVE
"Could you believe in Heaven if Heaven was all you had?"
-"With Every Light"
This is the crux of the final 11 song stretch which makes us the final act of the "MACHINA" story. We exist in the aftermath of the final performance by The Machines Of God, a period of psychological and emotional depletion where Glass finds himself without June, without his band, without the cultural attention or fan adoration (or even derision)--and furthermore, this is also a period during which Glass/Billy is still morning the loss of his Mother.
The sinking, doom laden "In My Body" is an enveloping, brooding six minute plus mood piece a la The Cure starring Glass numbly wallowing in the dark afterglow ("You'll never pull me out"). Sunlight attempts to peek in with "Innosense," a rare Billy Corgan/James Iha co-write and once again, Justin of "The Deep Dive" provided excellent insight as he expressed that he really feels that due to the lyrical content and the style in which it was written--a tad simpler, more sentimental--that possibly the lyrics were Iha's which Corgan sang, possibly making the song work as a message of healing and hope from a former bandmate to Glass--the message James Iha never sent to Billy Corgan as the two men never spoke for the ensuing 16 years--making the breathy passages of the song feel like a wish.
"Try (Again)," a reprise of "Try, Try, Try" with different lyrics, finds Glass in self talk mode as the self-described "Pop Tart" attempts to regain spiritual and emotional footing. The tender "Drain" feels like a quiet prayer, a plea, an existential question to God...
...which God answers voluminously on the instrumental "Yet Another Promise," which reprises the original musical theme/message from God through the radio at the start of the story.
The trilogy of songs starring the majestic "Home," the lilting "With Every Light" and the driving "Age Of Innocence," sees Glass re-discovering a sense of light and lightness with his new life stage after the world has gone. For even without June, without his band, without his fans, fame and attention and being now released for it all, the home of love and truth not only remains, it prevails. For Billy/Glass, the man who once sang the words, "I'm all by myself/As I've always felt" in "Soma" from "Siamese Dream" (released July 27, 1993) years earlier, he now finds himself speaking outwards to his deceased Mother, exclaiming that "the sun is shining on me" and most powerfully, "I'm NEVER alone!" His purpose was never lost. His mission was no failure. But, everything--even as traumatic as it was--had to occur for him to reach this enlightenment presently.
The sky high pop gloss of "Let Me Give The World To You," arrives and just maybe contains two different purposes. Perhaps, this song's inclusion is a signal that Glass returns to writing, composing a new song that reflects his newly lightened phase and purpose of spirit. Or...and much like Pete Townshend's "Let My Love Open The Door," what if this song is indeed the words/voice of God speaking to Glass?
The Lennon/Dylan-esque "Soot and Stars," with its cyclical piano figures, brings us to a summing up/epilogue of all that has come before and where it leaves us at the end of this specific story.
"I often speak of you
But the you was always me
'Cause when I speak of me, It's me I ask of you
So let there be no truth
Just trickery in rhymes
Time the only thing, waiting still is death
I hope for resolution, pray one defining moment
Pause without restraint, barren without child
A child is who I was, a child is who I'll die...
...Soot in my hair, and stars in my eyes..."
"Machina Theme," concludes the story in eerie synthetic fashion, a la Wendy Carlos or something akin to the iconic "Doctor Who" theme, suggesting that we are not experiencing a necessarily "happy ending," but the reality that this spiritual journey does not end here but will continue with purpose and turbulence forever more.
I have long felt that Billy Corgan is cut from an exceedingly similar cloth as The Who's Pete Townshend as both men are feverishly loquacious, ready to expound upon any manner of subject matter if asked and they also each possess deeply philosophical opinions over their respective purposes as artists, and especially ones who work and serve rock and roll. Both men are prolific, top tier songwriters, bandleaders who guide their respective bands through demanding musical works each reaching for some sense of spiritual deliverance and certainly, they are each profound conceptualists of tremendous depth and artistic ambition.
With regards to The Smashing Pumpkins' "MACHNA: Aranea Alba Editio," and for all that it shares with both The Who's "Tommy" (released May 19, 1969) and undeniably "Quadrophenia" (released October 26, 1973) with its inclusion of the band members weaved into the narrative, I strongly feel that Billy Corgan's opus is most in line with Townshend's "Lifehouse" project, the far ahead of the curve, originally conceived follow up to "Tommy," which was set in a dystopian future where music did not exist, humanity was sustained through what we now know as virtual reality and spiritual ascension would ultimately occur through a rock concert during which humanity's vibrational response to the performance would create a universal chord releasing everyone from societal imprisonment.
It was to be a multi-media presentation merging music, a concert, synthesizers, and film into an experience then unheard of and truly unattainable back in 1970. Townshend then cleaved songs from the narrative to eventually create The Who's "Who's Next" (released August 2, 1971), now a rock landmark in music history. Yet, for Townshend, "Lifehouse" has remained unfinished but something he has continuously returned to throughout his life, from placing songs originally intended for the rock opera into other albums, re-fashioning aspects into a conceptual solo work entitled
"Psychoderelict" (released June 15, 1993), a scripted radio play, full boxed sets of material from his intricate demos to musical inspirations and most recently, even a graphic novel.
"MACHINA: Aranea Alba Editio" not only merges the two original "MACHINA" albums back together (for the most part), but also includes previously unreleased material, newly recorded material, remixed and remastered selections and even demos all serving the full narrative of Glass and even through the variety of musical styles and sonic textures, everything fits richly, making the narrative emerge and clarified as never before, ultimately making a defining artistic statement that deserves a full re-evaluation as the musical experience delivered is unlilke anything else in the entirety of The Smashing Pumpkins' catalog.
Where "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness" exists as an alt-rock masterpiece, a musical patchwork quilt of an album birthed from the swing-for-the-fences ambition found in so many albums during the1970's and "ATUM" exists as essentially Rush's "2112" (released March 1976) by way of Vangelis, this middle section of the Zero/Glass/Shiny trilogy is the true rock opera, all tremendous thunder and the cinematic vistas of its musically sprawling canvas.
The often startling sonic aesthetics of the album, with its consistently blown out distortions, wall of fuzzed atmospherics perfectly differentiates "MACHINA" from its prequel and sequel. Even after the remastering process, the album feel determined to maintain a certain rawness. On many points where the glistening sonic sheen is apparent, like in "Real Love," "The Imploding Voice," both "Blue Skies Wrought Tears" and "Blue Skies Bring Tears," for instance, there is a dirty swirl, an angry haze that makes things impossible to be "seen" clearly and furthermore, threatens to pull everything apart. What we are hearing is shattering glass. shattering fast. It is desolation with a mighty yes, and with absolutely no hesitation.
To that end, I would argue that "MACHINA: Aranea Alba Editio" is not just a rock opera. I feel it to actually being The Smashing Pumpkin's gospel album as Glass' story is one of spiritual torment and transformation through a variety of phases where ascension and destruction work in tandem. It is a dark fable that simultaneously works as a cultural commentary, a band documentary, and a diary of an intensely personal existential crisis mirroring elements from David Bowie's "The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars" (released June 16, 1972), Genesis' "The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway" (released November 22, 1974), Pink Floyd's "The Wall" (released November 30, 1979) and all of the aforementioned works by The Who and Pete Townshend.
What "MACHINA" may lack in a narrative that necessarily propels us forwards via a plot, it succeeds grandly in providing poetic multi-levels within specific interior moments over the course of several songs--as if one song represents one particular thought or emotion and the following song represents the next particular thought or emotion--which showcases a deeply perceptive psychological, emotional and spiritual depth that unabashedly reveals itself within some of Billy Corgan's most wrenching lyrics and the band's most cathartic performances.
Jimmy Chamberlin, already the finest rock drummer of his generation over the span of the first three Pumpkins' albums, sounds as if he has something to prove by returning to the band after his previous dismissal due to personal tragedy. Chamberlin's drumming sounds even more elevated than it already was with his performances feeling like complete drum compositions--much like what one could hear in both Billy Cobham or the late Neil Peart--always honoring the song in question.
James Iha sounds fully unleashed throughout the album as his more angular, textural style of guitar heroics creates a soundscape that firmly enhances Glass' story and psychosis, especially during its most harrowing chapters in "Glass and the Ghost Children," "Cash Car Star," "HMM," and the full hurricane squall contained in "Dross," which careens as if Glass has let go of the wheel in a speeding car. And still, his more subdued, tender aesthetics appear, softening Corgan's metal (as Rick Rubin once expressed) in songs recorded during but excised from the narrative, including the dreamy showgaze of "Go" (which if I had my way, I would include in the story proper as a goodbye from James to D'Arcy) and the beautiful "Rainy Day Song."
And of course, there is Billy Corgan, who seemingly unearthed this material not solely through the act of living it but also through sheer force of will as there are only so may hours in one day and very much like Prince, it feels as if he bent and stretched the fabric of time itself in order to compose and record this enormity of material in a relatively short period. His musicianship and vocal performances are pitched to bar raising qualities all emphasizing a character and narrative filled with apocalyptic imagery of atom bombs and Armageddon signifying an elimination of the self in order to throw off the baggage, burdens and traumas of the past in order to re-emerge into a new self. The effect is exquisitely compelling, distressing and still firmly relatable as his journey reflects the life journey of us all from the paths we take, choices we accept and discard, quandaries we face and demons we battle as we each try to discover for ourselves what exactly is the meaning to our lives and existence.
The Smashing Pumpkins is a band for all of its attack and fury, they have always been their bravest and strongest through their fragility and willingness to be open-hearted, nerve endings fully exposed and being fearless in their ability to self-destruct in front of you only to try, try, try again. With the arrival of "MACHINA: Aranea Alba Editio," at long last complete in its originally intended form, we have a document of the band at a point where they were aiming high while also going down swinging. To hear it in this form takes me back as I also look forward, making it quite possibly the perfect album it their discography to view as a representation of their entire existence...
One that is often misunderstood, one that exists in a world of its own creation defiantly outside of all surrounding influences and figures and one that sends its echoes outward to those ready to receive its messages inspiring communion, passion and even tears.
And as I remember, maybe that is precisely why those tears fell from my eyes 26 years ago.