Silverfuck

Wait, who is that young go-getter?  Well, it sort of looks like Billy Corgan, only more dynamic and resourceful. 

The Simpsons reference and Smashing Pumpkins performance of “Silverfuck” are brought to you by the early nineties, when both entities hit their artistic peaks. At least I think they hit their artistic peaks. Who knows?  The Simpsons and the Pumpkins are still in existence, still going… somewhere. 

When it comes to artistic output, years of subpar performance run the risk of tarnishing prior achievements.  Long stretches of inactivity, or even worse, substandard activity can discount former glory.  It is one of the inherent risks of being an artist.

Artists make art—it’s what they do.  Hanging it up may not be an option.  Who is to say with any certainty when an individual living artist has created their masterpiece? Who would have the cajones to inform the artist that continuing with this whole art thing is a bad idea, that really they should just stop? Shouldn’t society be encouraging artists to keep going? 

Isn’t the final extinguishing of future potential the reason behind posthumously increased artwork prices?  After an artist dies there is no longer a need to hedge bets holding out hope that the artist’s true masterpiece has not been made yet.  The oeuvre is complete, what’s done is done. 

All of that said, if I had to be “that guy,” I’d say 1993 is a solid guess as to when the Smashing Pumpkins potential may have been most fulfilled.  They were hitting their stride for sure.

There was no shortage of competition for hard rock bands in 1993—the heavyweight belt may have been held by Metallica or G n’ R—but the Pumpkins were a band at the top of the long list of contenders. The Pumpkins were young and hungry, on the rise and intact.  Heroin and ego had not yet completely taken hold of the band.

The Pumpkins broke through in 1993 after five of years of hard work and dedication.  They had a leader with a vision, a freakishly good drummer with his own style, and they were a unique collective. Lead singer/songwriter/band leader Billy Corgan, when once asked to describe the Pumpkins’ music, labeled it as “perfect poison rock,” but the Smashing Pumpkins were far from Poison. The Pumpkins were not hair metal.  The Pumpkins were not grunge.  They were… Smashing Pumpkins, an excellent band with a terrible name. The Smashing Pumpkins were probably the best coed multi-racial hard rock band on the planet at the time.  They may be the best coed multi-racial hard rock band ever—it’s a short list after all.

This performance of “Silverfuck” took place at the Cabaret Metro in the Pumpkins’ hometown of Chicago, Illinois on August 14th, 1993.  The event was an album release party for Siamese Dream, the official release having taken place a few weeks earlier on July 27th.  The Siamese Dream album would become a massive success, both critically and commercially, eventually selling over 6 million copies.  Siamese Dream remains a solid album to this day, start to finish.

“Silverfuck” is found near the tail end of Siamese Dream.  It’s a song that didn’t receive much airplay for some reason.  I’m not sure why a 9-minute song titled “Silverfuck” wasn’t released as a radio single, one can only guess.  In my opinion, and many other listeners’ opinions, the song is as good as if not better than the singles that were chosen at the time. 

“Silverfuck” is probably not the strongest song from a lyrical standpoint.  If the song tells a story, the story is centered around some classic rock and roll themes:  communication breakdown, depression, heartbreak, sex and violence.  The ingredients are there, but the finished product leaves a little something to be desired.  There’s no plot.  There’s no character development.  Luckily, lack of discernible plot and character development are excusable in rock and roll. 

There are songs in the history of rock and roll where the music is clearly a vehicle for the lyrics.  Bob Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall” comes to mind.  Is there even a need to add music to those words?  Then there are songs where the musical performance takes center stage.  “Silverfuck” falls into this latter category I think.  

There are other songs on Siamese Dream beside “Silverfuck” where the music takes precedence.  “Hummer” is one of these songs, not that the lyrics to “Hummer” are that bad.  Lyricist Billy Corgan probably thought the lyrics to “Hummer” were fantastic, and perhaps his personal attachment to the song led to Corgan being triggered when local newspaper critic Jim DeRogatis described the lyrical content of “Hummer” as “sophomoric.” 

I think Corgan verbally responded on stage to the criticism of his lyrics during this August 14th, 1993 concert from which the “Silverfuck” video was taken.  I also think the concert was broadcast live on local radio.  The whole glorious show is on YouTube now, I’m just too lazy to re-watch it in its entirety to confirm that Billy issued his overly-defensive, immature remarks this particular evening, but I think he did. 

Corgan responded to Jim DeRogatis (who continues to this day cranking out thoughtful reviews and podcasts from Chicago) by angrily referring to Mr. DeRogatis as “that fat fuck from the Chicago Sun-Times.”  A little harsh, a little unnecessary, a little too personal.  But if the soon-to-be-bald fuck’s point was “Hummer is a great song, regardless of what you think of the lyrics,” then it’s a point well taken if rudely delivered.  Since when are sophomoric lyrics a deal breaker in rock and roll?  Have you ever heard “Louie Louie” by the Kingsmen?  The defense rests.

I encourage you not to get caught up in the lyrics of “Silverfuck.”  The only certainty to be ascertained from the lyrics is that things are not going well.  There is some deception, or perceived deception, which has led to heartbreak, to withdrawal, and potentially to extremely violent consequences.  It’s bad news, but the details are a little vague.  It sucks.  It hurts.  Leave it at that.

Just in case you become curious when you watch the video, this performance of Billy Corgan screaming “liar” in a Superman-themed t-shirt predates by nine months the official commercial release of a psuedo-Superman-costume-clad Henry Rollins screaming “liar” in an MTV video.  Coincidence?  Probably.  Heck, 1993 was Bill Clinton’s first year in office as POTUS, Superman liars were everywhere.  For the record, Corgan’s shirt reads “Superslut” along the sleeves.  I think I know what Hillary got Bill that Christmas.

Do not get caught up in Billy’s t-shirt or his lyrics but do get caught up in his screaming.  Get caught up in the sheer force of the roller coaster performance of the band.  Check out the insanely good, insanely fast drumming of Jimmy Chamberlin.  Listen to the solid playing (and solid recording by the way) of D’Arcy Wretzky’s bass.  Try to catch James Iha hiding out in the corner, playing a crucial, overlooked supporting role.  Note the audience member channeling his inner Beavis with a few audible “liars” in anticipation of the coming onslaught.  Appreciate the incredible dynamic range of the band, when they go from pin-drop quiet to ear-splittingly loud.

I have never witnessed a performer or band milk sudden, drastic volume changes to create a dramatic effect as consistently and effectively as the Smashing Pumpkins.  I take that back.  I witnessed a mastery of drastic dynamic changes from Buddy Guy in his prime.  Maybe there is something in the water in Chicago. 

Why is this Smashing Pumpkins performance so good though?  Did Billy get a tan?  Or lose a little weight?  I can’t put my finger on it.  All I know is that in August of 1993 he looks a little more dynamic, a little more resourceful.  Dude deserves a raise.

5.19.21