I am a huge The Smashing Pumpkins fan. I’ve seen them live a couple times, once when they opened for Guns ‘n’ Roses before their breakthrough album Siamese Dream was even recorded and another time getting lucky and scoring some front row seats in a general admission show; I was so close I could see D’Arcy’s nipples through her sheer shirt. But they suck live. Suck. They sound distorted and unrehearsed. If there were a ever a band whose magic is captured in the studio and production, it is this one. And that’s okay with me because they sound amazing that way. Truth is, The Smashing Pumpkins is very much a produced effect. And as frontman Billy Corgan explains, “When you are faced with making a permanent recorded representation of a song, why not endow it with the grandest possible vision?” I cannot disagree.

I also happen to be a big fan of b-sides and non-album songs. Little treasures are hiding in those small, often overlooked releases. There are few bands that I seek out this kind of material for and The Smashing Pumpkins is one of them. In fact, I probably enjoy more of their b-side material than I do their other catalogue of studio albums. (Not that I don’t love those too.) As with their albums, there’s a variety of rock peppered throughout. Some soft and light stuff and some heavy, aggressive stuff too. If you’ve been reading my Awesome Albums feature, you know I prefer the former. But because b-sides are rarer and often more difficult to find, it makes the discovery a truly unique and amazing aong that much for fulfilling. And they are great for expanding your knowledge of a band’s influences and inclinations.

The Smashing Pumpkins’s 1979 is from the box set limited edition release of The Aeroplane Flies High, a set composed of five discs, each one singles from their album Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. (These singles are better classified as a series packaging of EPs, however, since each one has around six songs instead of two or three.) Each one has its own distinct flavor:

1. Bullet with Butterfly Wings. Besides the titular track and an acoustic original, this disc contains several covers.
2. 1979. Esoteric love songs and ethereal sounds.
3. Zero. Hard rock and metal. Features a 23 minute medley of obscure studio recordings.
4. Tonight, Tonight. Acoustic soft pop and ballads.
5. Thirty-Three. A little avant garde and experimental, ranging from soft rock to trippy rock.

So, some fantastic stuff here. It’s so good and there’s so much of it, it’s a wonder how some of this got cut from Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. On the other hand, Mellon Collie is already a two-disc opus with its own gems and treasures. It’s incredible that they were able to produce so much amazing music in such a short time. The Aeroplane Flies High itself has a two-hour running length, which is more than double the time than that of the average album. Also of note is that is almost solely written and composed by Billy Corgan. Few tracks have different writers, besides a couple by James Iha and the four covers on Bullet with Butterfly Wings. That’s a lot of Billy! And that’s a good thing, if you ask me. He’s a wonderful songwriter and a gifted lyricist. He often writes in abstracts, both in music and in word. He has a talent for variety. In fact the only Hole album I can stand to listen to is their 1998 release Celebrity Skin, of which Billy Corgan co-wrote five of its twelve songs.

This introduction may seem like a circumventional kind of way to get into my undoubtedly favorite EP of the bunch 1979–and in fact may be longer than my actual comments on it–but it’s sort of necessary. For example, take my selection from 1979, “Set the Ray to Jerry”. Interestingly, it is an outtake from 1993’s Siamese Dream which–for reasons I cannot even fathom–did not make it onto The Smashing Pumpkins 1994 b-side compilation, Pisces Iscariot. A fantastic compilation it is, but certainly a track could have been traded out for this little masterpiece! So you see, a wonderful song like this missed being on two albums AND a b-side compilation. Madness!

I gotta be honest. I burned myself on “Set the Ray to Jerry” over a decade ago. I loved it so much and would just listen and listen, ad nauseam. Since then, I’ve made it a little treat to myself. I listen to it only sporadically so that it remains special. Also since, if I discover a song that sparks the same passion in me as this one did, I don’t let myself get about on it. I play it when I want my attention soleyl focused on it and that way I can appreciate it and savor and then put back away for awhile. I have this song to thank for that practice!

Of course, 1979 six tracks are all brilliant. Composed of soft, melodic tunes, it is a simple serenity. Non die-hard fans are certainly familiar with the titular “1979″ and it’s a good touchstone or point of reference point for the rest of the listings. They all have that fun, lilting guitar, though it is markedly more subtle and localized on some of the songs. It also features two songs witten and performed by James Iha, lovely acoustic guitar-driven ones.

Obviously, I am a huge The Smashing Pumpkins fangirl. I could easily have chosen any number of albums or singles for my highlight here, as I can listen to several of them straight through without the inclination to skip a song, but in the end I had to go with 1979 because it’s a somber and smooth recording. Most of the tracks–of which there are only 6–are heavy on the base in that soothing and relaxing way and coupled with a delicate but charged guitar (whether acoustic or not.)

Admittedly, Billy Corgan’s voice is a bit of an acquired taste, or sound as the case may be. I wasn’t sold on him at first but after listening to Siamese Dream when it first came out and just adoring the music of it, I came to enjoy his voice too. His voice is distinctive, a little grainy and coarse, some whispers and some screams. The Aeroplane Flies High is a showcase for all his intonations and vocal performances. Truly, I enjoy more b-sides by The Smashing Pumpkins than I do for any other band. It astounds me that I find their b-sides more pleasurable than a lot of their more easily accessed catalogue.

The Aeroplane Flies High was a limited ediiton release, and as such, is now out of print. The only way to procure it would be to find it used. A must for any die-hard The Smashing Pumpkins but a good listen for the casual and new fan. While 1979 is my favorite of the five discs, there are other standout selections in this box set. The James Iha track “…Said Sadly” off of Bullet with Butterfly Wings (with guest vocalist Kim Gordon of Veruca Salt) is a highlight for me, as is “Meladori Magpie” off of Tonight, Tonight, which has a fun almost folksy western guitar thing going on. So don’t stop here. This set of b-sides is better than most albums out there.

Pete Yorn’s musicforthemorningafter grabbed me on first listen. Every track. All the way through. An infusion of melodies and mixture of genre are the staples of this album.

I gravitate toward singer-songwriter type of stuff. Slower, melancholy tunes peppered with angst and despair. I am not a despondent person by nature; I just like the way this kind of music infects me, inspires me. It makes me feel. I’ve got nothing against a good song that makes you want to bop your head and move your body. I’ve got nothing against the happy, optimistic stuff, the songs with those upbeat tempos and light lyrics. In fact, I love a lot of that kind of thing. But this emotionally fueled rock and folk…that’s what touches my heart.

Now, don’t go thinking Pete Yorn is some wussy, whiny, woe-is-me artist. musicforthemorningafter, and his subsequent records, are rich and evacotive and have plenty of great beats and do, in fact, get you bopping your head. He dances on the delicate balance between rock and folk, if you ask me. And I think there is no better mixture to have. If there were an artists comparable to him and similar in style, I might say Jeff Buckley. though Buckley has a rougher edge to him.

There are two tracks that may be familiar to folks who aren’t actually familiar with Pete Yorn himself. “Strange Condition” received some modest radio airplay when this album was released in 2001. And “Just Another” may stand out to tv enthusiasts, as it has been featured in many different episodes of several television series. And both are undoubtedly great tracks (though I am more drawn to “Just Another”) but there’s lots more where that came from on musicforthemorningafter. My selection to share from this album is “June”. It’s got a fun, plucky guitar and soft, subdued vocals. And I really like all the accompanying instruments. Lots of great little side melodies going on there. So give it a try and I hope you enjoy!

Ned’s Atomic Dustbin is a band I listened to a lot as a youth. It was everyday listening to me and so listening to it now, as an adult, fills me with great sense of nostalgia. It is also a band that I feel very much belongs to me. It wasn’t something I listened to amongst friends; it was a private enjoyment. I can’t say why exactly. They just weren’t a very well known band with the people I hung around–and I hung around a wide variety of different types: punks, hippies, jocks, geeks, name your high school clique–so it wasn’t the casual background noise in my various social environments. But oh, Ned’s Atomic Dustbin is so much fun.

Their music is super-charged with bass–which is something that can easily wash out a song–but Ned’s Atomic Dustbin manages to make it not only blend, but also enrich their music as well. And they do a lot tempo changes–again, something that can really be distracting–but they do it in such a way that you get swept up in the movement of the music. It comes off as effortless, and even uplifting.

Originally I planned to highlight their 1992 album Are You Normal? in my Awesome Albums feature, but after reviewing their discography in preparation for this post, I went with their debut album instead, 1990’s God Fodder. From beginning to end it is filled with energy, almost kinetic. Flowing and deliberate, infused with flavor, each track is a jaunting adventure, peppered with potency, vitality and some nuance to boot.

The selection from God Fodder I decided to share is one I think best encapsulates the way I have explained the album. It’s called “Nothing Like” and it’s got a great swing and fluidity to it, yet marked with that shifting tempo and jauntiness I was referring to above. It’s a short song–under three minutes–but it feels complete. The track culminates in this speedy guitar of a coda that I have always found fun and gets my head bopping to its beat.

So if you like that, check out this great band. If you are on the fence about whether you liked this song or not, I recommend giving “Capital Letters” a listen. It’s probably my favorite on the album and certainly one of my faves in Ned’s Atomic Dustbin’s entire catalogue. This is the kind of music from the 1990s that I can still enjoy and revel in. Let’s face it: there was a lot of shit music in that decade. I suppose there is in every decade and maybe because I spent my adolescence in the 1990s I more discerning of its quality. But still! Sure, we got Nirvana and the Smashing Pumpkins and Radiohead. But what about C + C Music Factory?! And MC Hammer?! Yuck, man. Yuck. But yuck Ned’s Atomic Dustbin is not.

Bad Religion fans may not understand my selection of The New America in my Awesome Albums feature.. And I can’t say it is necessarily my favorite album of theirs. The Grey Race or No Control or Stranger Than Fiction may hold that title. I’m not sure, so don’t make me choose! But I did choose this one because I love every song on it and can listen to it often all the way through. It’s fun and much more optimistic than previous albums. It’s also quite underappreciated.

Growing up, I knew a lot of Bad Religion fans. Devotees, in fact. Passionate and protective. And none of them particularly cared for this album. It’s distinctly less punk, I suppose, and that is the initial attraction of any fan to this band. It’s also more melody-driven and maybe even a bit more pop-inspired. Perhaps it’s even more produced than their earlier albums, as well. But so what? I still think it’s fantastic and deserves more recognition than it gets. (I could also say the same for No Substance which not well-received by fans or critics. But it’s got some great tunes on there!)

Now, if you don’t know much about Bad Religion, then you should check them out, most definitely. My interest in punk is not a deep one; I am a fan of a few bands within the genre and not much more. Punk can be so heavy and I’ve always preferred softer music. Singer-songwriter kind of stuff. But punk is also a very socially driven genre that displays an awareness of politics and government and the human condition. Bad Religion’s front-man, Greg Gaffin, is prolific and his lyrics are cutting and incendiary. Not too mention chockful of impressive vocabulary! As a teenager, my friends would tell me they would listen to the band’s albums with a dictionary in hand. No joke! (Gaffin earned a Ph.D. from Cornell University.)

The lyrics of any Bad Religion album tend to focus on society and politics and urgings on the individual toward social responsibility. The New America is a bit different though. It’s more personal. Below is a sampling of lyrics from “There Will Be a Way.”

follow me to the future’s distant shore // vagary needn’t haunt us anymore // and now it’s time to set the agenda // learn the past // make it last // share the wealth // hold your fire // conserve life // make it right // kill the hate // negotiate // there will be a way

But because I find the lyrics to “I Love My Computer” absolutely hilarious and true and sad–and all at once–I had to share these as well. Because this is an internet culture and we often close ourselves in and trade in real life for the web.

I love my computer // You make me feel alright // every waking hour // and every lonely night // I love my computer // for all you give to me // predictable errors and no identity // and it’s never been quite so easy // I’ve never been quite so happy // all I need to do is click on you // and we’ll be joined in the most soulless way // and we’ll never ruin each other’s day // ’cause when I’m through I just click // and you just go away

I had a difficult time choosing just one track for this post. I was listening to the album thinking, “This one’s my favorite!” and then “No, thats one’s my favorite!” In the end I just sort of chose “Don’t Sell Me Short” because it may very well be my favorite track. The message is great and I love the little “ooh and ahh” harmony. You can hear the backup vocals throughout and they add such a layered and textured quality to the song. So I hope you enjoy it too. I think it’s a lot of fun.

And if you do enjoy it, consider looking into some more material from the band. (Or more appropriately, Greg Gaffin. He sort of is the band. The only constant member.) Bad Religion’s been around since 1980 and the catalogue is filled with a lot of terrific and thought-provoking stuff. I recommend dipping into 1994’s Stranger Than Fiction, as it remains their most successful album to date. And it’s about the only one that seems to get some radio airplay, even if it is very little. I did hear “21st Century (Digital Boy)” while I was in the car today! So, I guess that’s something…

For my third selection in my Awesome Albums series I am picking an album whose name may sound familiar to visitors of this site. That’s because the second domain this site runs on was named after it. It is the explosive and endearing Black Celebration by Depeche Mode, released in 1986.

I could easily substitute several other of Depeche Mode’s albums in this slot, as there are a few I enjoy immensely. The wildly ubiquitous Violator is certainly worthy, as is Songs of Faith and Devotion, Music For the Masses, or the widely overlooked Ultra. But I suppose my fondness for Black Celebration lies in my introduction to it.

Ironically, the song that introduced to Black Celebration is the one song that wasn’t actually supposed to be on the album in the first place. And in fact, it is only on the US version of the album. The song is called “But Not Tonight” and was featured in the 1986 film Modern Girls–which stars Virginia Madsen and Daphne Zuniga–a film that is laughable and ridiculous and makes me wonder if it was trying to be a more serious version of Martin Scorsese’s After Hours. But I caught it on cable as a teen and as the song was played over the end of the movie, I found myself searching for what it was in the credits…which lead me to my purchase of this album.

“But Not Tonight” is perhaps the most dated-sounding of the tracks. Its sound is distinctly ’80s. So is the rest of the album, truth be told. It is total ’80s synth pop with all the keyboards and sampling…but it’s the good kind. It may sound dated but it’s still awesome. I can’t listen to the Thompson Twins or Culture Club anymore, for example, but Depeche Mode stands the test of time and to this day, they remain one of my all time favorite bands. That said, even the dated qualities of this record sustain relevance, both in meaning and sound. And the sampling within the tracks are all deliberate and become apart of the movement of the various pieces. Things like helicopters and rain–rather than seeming displaced or otherwise random–coalesce into the music, forming to it. Relevance also lies in the message, as can be gleamed from “New Dress,” a commentary on modern humanity. A taste of the lyrics:

Jet airliner shot from sky // Famine horror, millions die // Earthquake terror figures rise // Princess Di is wearing a new dress

Recognizable tracks on the album include “Stripped” and the titular song, “Black Celebration.” But nearly half of the tracks feature the softer Martin Gore on vocals. He isn’t the usual main singer for the band, but the songs that feature him tend to be very thoughtful and perhaps a bit prone to capturing a certain angst, as evidenced in “A Question of Lust.”

For my single selection to share with you, I have chosen “Here Is the House” because it is grossly overlooked. It’s catchy and fun and even optimistic. Again, it certainly has a distinct ’80s flavor to it, but I still find it very much enjoyable and rather nostalgic.

Before the term “alternative” as a genre of music was widely used or understood, came The Pixies’s 1989 studio album, Doolittle. This polished, strange–and what the band called–”surreal” group of tracks is frighteningly awesome. A friend introduced me to The Pixies when I was an adolescent. He was listening to “Hey” and I had to inquire about just what band it was. Such an odd mix of tempos. And several of the songs can blend from this quiet, almost ethereal sound into a loud and raucous composition.

Tremendous bass lines that kind of throb and undulate through the melodies is one of my favorite parts of this album. The bass alone can make you sway. Typically the bass does not do this for me. It’s more an instrument that, although (usually) necessary, is often best when it is simply an accompaniment to the rest of a song’s composition. And don’t think that I am knocking the bass! It’s a wonderful instrument that enriches many of my favorite songs; it just doesn’t always stand on its own as well, in my opinion. Here, with The Pixies, it does. Kim Deal, you rock!

The title of most familiar or recognizable track on this album probably belongs to the pop ballad “Here Comes Your Man” or possibly, the similarly upbeat (if only in sound, not in lyric) “Wave of Mutilation.” But there’s more to this whole disc than just some good poppy rock. For example, “Mr. Grieves” has a definite catchy ska-edge to it. “La La Love You” and “Crackity Jones” have a bit of a Spanish influence. Each song stand on its own. I think a lot of bands tend to produce songs that are often interchangeable with others. But on Doolittle, each one is distinct and separate.

And now for a taste of the album itself. First, a sampling of lyrics. These are from a track (“This Monkey’s Gone to Heaven”) that comments on environmentalism:

The creature in the sky // Got sucked in a hole // Now there’s a hole in the sky // And the ground’s not cold // And if the ground’s not cold // Everything is gonna burn // We’ll all take turns // I’ll get mine, too

And in honor of the first song I ever really heard by The Pixies and that made me seek out more, I offer up “Hey” as my selection from this album. If you haven’t heard it before, I sure hope you will enjoy it now.

I own all of The Pixies, but this is their best, if you ask me. Trompe Le Monde or Surfer Rosa are awesome in their own rights, as are their other albums, but I tend to skip a few tracks on those. Not with Doolittle, though. Doolittle is a little pop/rock/alternative–whatever you want to call it–masterpiece infused with the best of what makes good albums great. It’s not afraid to be different and a little out there. It’s not afraid of shocking you. You’ll tap your foot gladly while Perry Farrell sings about torture. Because torture, this album, is not.

I’ve been meaning to do a music post for some time but the prospect became too daunting. You see, I wanted to with about my all-time favorite albums. The ones that you can listen to straight through without skipping a track. And let’s be honest, for every band you love and album they put out, there is the inevitable song or two that just never really grips you. So I’ve decided to do this in installments. I’m calling it Awesome Albums, and in each post, I’ll tell you a little about an album I love every song on and I will also embed a player where you can check out one of them.

So what better way to start tan with my favorite album of all time. That’s right: all time. It is The Cure’s Disintegration, released in 1989. I would even call it their opus. It’s fantastic. Moody and ethereal. Charged and subtle. Little nuances of noise creep in the background, so slight you nearly don’t hear them at all. It makes me think of stars falling form the sky, and perhaps that is because when I first fell in love with it I was star gazing for two long nights in a forest clearing in Oregon back in 1997. Prior to that year I hadn’t given the album a good listen. Maybe it was serendipitous that it eluded me as it had for if I had not had those two stargazing nights than perhaps I would not have become so enamored with it as I had. Oregon is a prime place to watch stars. The air isn’t obscured by pollution the way it is here, outside Chicago. Here, you can hardly see the stars at all. It was such on odd experience to lay in that forest clearing and even though the ground was chilly and slightly damp, I didn’t care; I was mesmerized by the sky. I didn;t even realize that one could see so many stars in the sky. Maybe I just thought there weren’t so many visible at all, from anywhere on the planet. I suppose I hadn’t ever given it any significant thought because I had become to accustomed to the absence of stars. But seeing them….I was transfixed.

That may sound as though I’ve gone off and a tangent–and that may partly true–but that experience is undeniably tied to my love for this album. Strangely bleak and hopeful in the same moment, The Cure’s Disintegration has the capacity to transpose me into another place. Whether it is back in that forest clearing in Oregon or to another construct within my mind is inconsequential. But that it does, is what’s important.

I love all kinds of music mostly but overall I am more inclined toward melancholy tunes. The Cure’s discography is filled with this kind of stuff. Disintegration may have more of it than their other albums. Even the faster songs, such as the titular “Disintegration” and “Fascination Street” are somehow soft. Each track is full of haunting melodic tones with a tinge of cacophony and often–though not always–riddled with non-sequitur lyrics. They’re poetic. From the titular song:

Now that I know that I’m breaking to pieces // I’ll pull out my heart // And I’ll feed it to anyone // Crying for sympathy // Crocodiles cry for the love of the crowd // And the three cheers from everyone // Dropping through sky // Through the glass of the roof // Through the roof of your mouth // Through the mouth of your eye // Through the eye of the needle // It’s easier for me to get closer to heaven // Than ever feel whole again

by Robert Smith from The Cure’s official site

“Love Song” is probably the most well-known of the album’s tracks. It’s a great song but it’s far from my favorite. There’s lots of other great treats on this disc. I offer up “The Same Deep Water as You” as a sample. It begins with a rainstorm and molds into a beautiful instrumental segment before the lyrics come in. Though it is from 1989, it doesn’t sound that way to me. There’s a timelessness there. This is an album that go on without coming off as dated. I can’t say that about a lot of albums, not even any of the other The Cure’s. So take a listen and see if you agree.

In the very first season of South Park there is an episode called “Mecha-Streisand” in which an evil giant Barbra Streisand comes and brings destruction to the town and it’s up to Robert Smith of The Cure to save the day. And he does, of course. And as he is leaving and walking toward that proverbial sunset, Kyle yells to him “‘Disintegration’ is the best album ever!” I couldn’t agree more.

In the spring of 2010, Disintegration will be re-released in as a 21st Anniversary remastered, 3-CD Deluxe Edition. (It will also be available on a single disc and a double vinyl.) There’s also to be other remastered releases in 2010, so I’ll have to keep on eye on that too. :)