Post by stoliboy on Jul 30, 2005 14:28:59 GMT 7
Billy Corgan, Enmore
Reviewed by Kelsey Munro
Sydney Morning Herald - July 30, 2005
www.smh.com.au/news/review/billy-corgan-enmore/2005/07/29/1122144013816.html
Pure electro ... Billy Corgan, backed by keyboard, synthesisers and programmed beats, now seems more comfortable with himself as an artist.
Enmore Theatre, July 27
You wouldn't pick Billy Corgan as the chatty type, but the man can hold his own against even the most loquacious brace of Aussie hecklers. With his scraped dome and black clothes, the hulking ex-Smashing Pumpkins frontman doesn't come across like a stand-up man. But that was until early in his set, when a technical failure left him and his three band members dangling in silence.
What could he do? Throw a tantrum, abuse the crew? Well, he started chatting, throwing in some gags about Australians and a couple about himself. Apparently Corgan, the deadpan maestro of '90s alternative rock, no longer takes himself quite so seriously. Thank God.
Corgan's band played straight guys to his funny man, silhouetted against a massive wraparound screen displaying bright, pixelated images. But apart from Corgan's storied guitar-playing, there was little that felt strictly live about this show. It was pure electro: keyboard, synthesisers and V-drums over programmed beats, leaving the poor drummer with little to do but bang the odd rubber cymbal pad.
Perhaps they needed more room in the luggage for Corgan's guitars, but the electro beats became trying: monotonous, characterless and booming. It distracted from the strength of some of the material, which was predominantly from his solo album The Future Embrace.
Corgan's voice is not a pretty thing, reminiscent as it is of an angle-grinder. It's probably mostly to blame for keeping the Pumpkins' best songs off mainstream radio in their day. When he turns his pen to ballads, Corgan can be as anodyne as any top 40 hit-maker - witness Pretty Pretty Star and All Things Change. If someone else was singing it, it'd be almost easy listening. Then again, Corgan's aggro mode always felt overwrought. He's at his best in this sort of icy, dark sonic territory with a little industrial-strength glam thrown in.
Which is why it was nice to see that, post-Pumpkins, Corgan seems far more comfortable with himself as an artist. He did some surprising covers, too. But if you never thought you'd hear Howlin' Wolf's Sitting on Top of the World, the Bee Gees' To Love Somebody and AC/DC's Long Way to the Top re-imagined as quantised, pounding electro dirges, you're probably not a Billy Corgan fan
Reviewed by Kelsey Munro
Sydney Morning Herald - July 30, 2005
www.smh.com.au/news/review/billy-corgan-enmore/2005/07/29/1122144013816.html
Pure electro ... Billy Corgan, backed by keyboard, synthesisers and programmed beats, now seems more comfortable with himself as an artist.
Enmore Theatre, July 27
You wouldn't pick Billy Corgan as the chatty type, but the man can hold his own against even the most loquacious brace of Aussie hecklers. With his scraped dome and black clothes, the hulking ex-Smashing Pumpkins frontman doesn't come across like a stand-up man. But that was until early in his set, when a technical failure left him and his three band members dangling in silence.
What could he do? Throw a tantrum, abuse the crew? Well, he started chatting, throwing in some gags about Australians and a couple about himself. Apparently Corgan, the deadpan maestro of '90s alternative rock, no longer takes himself quite so seriously. Thank God.
Corgan's band played straight guys to his funny man, silhouetted against a massive wraparound screen displaying bright, pixelated images. But apart from Corgan's storied guitar-playing, there was little that felt strictly live about this show. It was pure electro: keyboard, synthesisers and V-drums over programmed beats, leaving the poor drummer with little to do but bang the odd rubber cymbal pad.
Perhaps they needed more room in the luggage for Corgan's guitars, but the electro beats became trying: monotonous, characterless and booming. It distracted from the strength of some of the material, which was predominantly from his solo album The Future Embrace.
Corgan's voice is not a pretty thing, reminiscent as it is of an angle-grinder. It's probably mostly to blame for keeping the Pumpkins' best songs off mainstream radio in their day. When he turns his pen to ballads, Corgan can be as anodyne as any top 40 hit-maker - witness Pretty Pretty Star and All Things Change. If someone else was singing it, it'd be almost easy listening. Then again, Corgan's aggro mode always felt overwrought. He's at his best in this sort of icy, dark sonic territory with a little industrial-strength glam thrown in.
Which is why it was nice to see that, post-Pumpkins, Corgan seems far more comfortable with himself as an artist. He did some surprising covers, too. But if you never thought you'd hear Howlin' Wolf's Sitting on Top of the World, the Bee Gees' To Love Somebody and AC/DC's Long Way to the Top re-imagined as quantised, pounding electro dirges, you're probably not a Billy Corgan fan
