In the time it would take to decide exactly where Oceania (out June 19) fits in the "one song at a time" schemata of larger project Teargarden By Kaleidyscope or, for that matter, argue about whether the band that recorded it should be regarded as the same music entity that released Gish and Siamese Dream, albums it will inevitably be compared to… you could just simply listen to it and pleasantly realize that, for the first time since Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, The Smashing Pumpkins sound very much like themselves again without resorting to self-parody or creative back-stepping.
Produced by Billy Corgan and Bjorn Thorsrud, the "album within an album" roars quickly to life with "Quasar" and "Panopticon," a pair of roaring, mildly psychedelic hard rockers that, until now, could only have come from longhaired Billy. (The former song's "Right on!" refrain eerily echoed my own reaction.) On gorgeous acoustic strummer "The Celestials," Billy coos, "Never let the summer get you down / Never let your thoughts run free" over a lush chorus that blossoms into a hard rock swirl the second time around. Its dreamy, reverb-soaked bridge sets the stage for "Violet Rays," a warm, feedback-wrapped rush of guitar sustain that spills over into a tumbling coil of wiry guitars and busy synthesizers.
"There is love enough for both of us," promises "My Love Is Winter," the album's closest thing to a traditional power ballad. Freed creatively from the crippled angst of his '90s albums, Billy Corgan burrows himself under a thick blanket of obscure symbols, religious metaphors, spiritual codes and romantic pleas. "I'm not here to hold your hand / I'm just here to understand / If you're feeling low, I can help," he pledges on "One Diamond, One Heart," wearing his emboldened heart on his black and white striped sleeve before delving into the mystic "Pinwheels" ("Mother Moon / mistress of the sun / Say I got you…"), a bulging plume of overlapping guitars and sweeping, cinematic strings.
On its nine-plus minute title track, Corgan bemoans, "No one can love you / 'cause no one can free you" over dense reverie of dream pop guitars and humming keyboards that spirals down into a quietly stirring acoustic middle section ("Sweet baby, nurture me / Sweet lady, if you please") before building back up into its cascading flood of an outro. The guitars get a little leaner/meaner towards its end—most notably on the very Gish "The Chimera"—but Oceania comes to a thick, effervescent end on a dreamy bit of business called "Wildflower." "I'm wasted along the way to reach you," Corgan chants vaporously over a thick murk of analogue synthesizer ambience. The stars (the same ones that are "out tonight," insists the softly crushing "Inkless") are where he sees The Smashing Pumpkins headed and it's where he opts to let this album conclude.
Taken in as a whole, the Pumpkins' musical legacy is a thick forest of creative detours, solipsist dalliances and expansive conceptual forays—where Oceania will fit into that beautiful mess remains to be seen. For now, though, it's simply a really good new album, one that deserves to be referenced and included in the company of the classic Smashing Pumpkins albums it delightfully demonstrates little interest in resembling.
SumOlogy: A worthy addendum to the ongoing Kaleidyscope musical saga and (more importantly) the most stirring, progressively interesting Smashing Pumpkins record since the band's controversial reincarnation.
Grade: B+
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Follow Brett Warner on Twitter: @Erasurehead
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