Meeting Billy Corgan

On being friends vs. friendly and understanding relationships

At first, I wasn’t a Smashing Pumpkins fan. I went through a phase in college where I leaned against a lot of music I would later come to appreciate. But eventually Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness won me over. I covered that tour for Addicted to Noise and shot the Pumpkins for the first of what would be many times.

Billy Corgan performs at the Waltz benefit at Metro. Photo: matt carmichael/rocknroll.net

Eventually I would get to meet Billy and Pumpkins drummer Jimmy Chamberlin. Pretty sure I met Billy initially during the Waltz shows at Metro (see Meeting Nick Tremulis). But after the Pumpkins broke up the first time, I tried to shoot Corgan’s post-Pumpkins project, Zwan in St. Louis. Sean and I travelled down for that show, as it was one of the first announced Zwan gigs. They played a little club called the Galaxy, but didn’t want press coverage yet so we just watched and listened. The Galaxy was hard to find in pre-GPS days, as was pretty much anywhere to eat in downtown St. Louis. Sean and I paid a dollar to a guy at a gas station to point us toward a restaurant that was open. Not great.

Billy also played a series of solo shows at the Hideout around this period. I’m told the Hideout’s owner wasn’t sure he wanted the shows there, but Billy said he had new material he just wanted to work out someplace small and informal. That vibed with the Hideout’s ethos so Tim gave him the green light and his usual enthusiastic greetings.

But anyway, later Zwan would play part of a radio station festival at Tweeter Center (headlined by Kid Rock). This is where I would meet Pam, and also get my first photos printed in Rolling Stone. So kind of a big day. Thanks, Billy.

Billy in a red wig with the Pumpkins, opening for Jane's Addiction; On the Mellon Collie tour, at his first solo acoustic show, and with Zwan.

I then shot a multi-night run of Zwan shows at Metro for the band. And later Billy’s first-ever solo acoustic show, again at Metro. I was the only one he allowed to shoot that show, with a set that was decorated like a living room (and maybe was all artifacts from his living room.) He knew the Metro so well that when there was a hum in the sound system during soundcheck he made someone go up and turn off the vintage lights in the back of the balcony. The lighting guy was dubious but Billy was right. The hum stopped.

Those pics would wind up in Rolling Stone, too. Thanks again, Billy. Although that shoot also taught me an important lesson: make clear the terms of a deal in advance. I didn’t do my due diligence of getting things in writing so we had a little disagreement over ownership of said photos. That was my bad.

In short, there was a period where I ran into Billy a lot. Even at shows of other bands, he’d be hanging out backstage. And, somehow, so would I.

Billy at the time had a reputation for being a little difficult in general and I found him challenging to talk to at first. It wasn’t really intimidation. It was more that sometimes it’s important to go beyond “hey, I’m a fan” and try to get yourself on more equal footing. Equal footing is a better place to have a conversation. It’s more relaxed, honestly for both parties in a conversation. Lou Reed was supposedly kind of similar. For Lou, you were supposed to talk about guitar gear or Tai Chi to get comfortable.

With Billy we found middle ground with our love for the Cubs. So that’s what we tended to talk about. Once we got into baseball talk we both could relax. And it was cool that Billy for a while knew who I was.

It’s important to learn how to talk to people. Even important people. Even awkward people.

Besides loving Billy’s music in all its incarnations, I always appreciated that Billy seems to just like living out his boyhood dreams. Maybe he does things to impress and pay back his younger self, too. Like dressing like Rick Nielsen as he joined Cheap Trick onstage and flipping non-stop picks as Rick does. Or when he sat in with Poi Dog at Dennis Rodman’s birthday party, singing Bowie’s Heroes. Or all of his fascination with wrestling, including having a small wrestling performance with, I believe, his kids on stage with the wrestlers mid-set as the Pumpkins performed opening for Green Day.

Jimmy was totally different. We sat in Smart Bar, the club beneath Metro. He bought me a beer and chatted like we had known each other for a while. Totally easy going and able to carry his end of a conversation with ease. Many years and lifetimes later I’d run into him at the airport in San Francisco. He was an investor in a start-up out there. I approached him while we were waiting, re-introduced myself and we talked tech until boarding time. We talked about my book and I invited him to the book launch party (narrator: he didn’t come.)

But it’s also important not to confuse your heroes with your friends, even if they are friendly. Billy was still hard to work with, and stood me up on a shoot that I thought had been all arranged, but maybe no one had told Billy himself about.

It could just be that he existed at a different plane of “rock star” than I was used to working with, even if he was also local and a guy I ran into around town.

Billy is still in the Smashing Pumpkins (with Jimmy again) and they played last night at Wrigley Field tonight with Green Day. I took my son, which shows how much life has changed since I met Billy back in the day. I was closer to my son’s age then, than to my age now. Andrew enjoyed the Pumpkins and sang along to Green Day and it was a fantastic evening.

But it was great to see Billy live out another fantasy and perform at the home of the Cubs. He posted on social about how much it meant to him, and I could see that and feel it and I very much understand it. That alone would give us plenty to talk about back stage, for sure.

Here’s what I wrote for Addicted to Noise back in the day:

The Smashing Pumpkins turned in a strong performance Sunday, finishing off their home-town stay on this tour. However, the show ended on a cryptic note.

After their third encore, the extended 'Silverf*k' jam, Billy Corgan took a moment to reflect on the tour. "This is the tour we thought would never end," he said to the sold-out crowd at the Rosemont Horizon. He went on to praise the band for holding together despite the "irresponsible actions of two of our friends who shall remain nameless," referring of course to former drummer Jimmy Chamberlin who was fired after the death of late keyboardist, Jonathan Melvoin. What followed was what Corgan dubbed the "final communique from the Infinite Express." "We are murder, mayhem, malicious malcontents... misguided and misunderstood. This is the last glimpses and shines of what we started here in Chicago, nine years ago. Everything that follows from here is a different trip." He then had the houselights brought up so that everyone could share in the "special" moment before continuing: "Nine years ago we never dreamed we could play to this many people... No matter what happens, we shared this time together. It was special. It was great. We send you a message of love, trust, compassion and grace."

Then as they were walking off stage, D'Arcy stopped Billy and held up one finger. Billy called James back to the stage, went fetal on the floor and started into the final cut from their double-album, Farewell and Goodnight. D'Arcy proceeded to dance with her stuffed St. Bernard and then beat Billy with it playfully. James came out an kneeled before a toppled mic stand and play the song on an acoustic guitar. The rest of the band filtered back on stage to help sing, Billy got up and played keyboards for a bit of it and finally ended the show with the final notes "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness."

The show saw the Pumpkins realizing Corgan's proclaimed life long dream of playing three nights at the Horizon thus equalling the feat of the Scorpions who played a similar stint when Corgan was 17. "We can now say that we're as big as the Scorpions were," Corgan exclaimed.

Also of note Corgan decreed that the show would be the last time that the character Jimmy Frog would pull members of the audience up on stage to dance during "1979." Of course he followed that by saying that it was the last concert he'd ever play and the last time he'd ever listen to music, so who's to say.

Who's to say about any of this. It was a show that saw both the band and the audience having a great time, as Corgan and James talked to the crowd a lot. What Corgan meant by his closing speech is unclear, but whatever the outcome, those who saw this tour in all its many phases, caught a glimpse of the Pumpkins at the height of their success.