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KERRANG: Zwan AS PUNDITS and punters alike queue up to administer one last kick to nu-metal's creaking corpse, Billy Corgan's creative comeback is a timely reminder that scenes are temporary but class is permanent. A freaky frontman with an elephantine ego and a borderline Messiah complex who inspired devotion and derision in roughly equal measure (onetime Smashing Pumpkins manager Sharon Osbourne memorably dismissed him as a "baldy twat in adress"), Corgan was, in many ways, the Chad Kroeger of his day. The pair even found fame in similar fashion, capitalising on a gift for grunge, despite being born some distance from that most local of genre's geographical epicentre of Seattle (Corgan is a curmudgeonly Chicagoan, Kroeger a charmless Canadian). And yet only one of these rock stars is likely to ever be thought of interms of being an artiste (although, amusingly, a convincing case could be made for the other being an "autist"). Despite the disposable nature of the modern music industry, Corgan still commands covers and column inches a good decade after the release of his first record. One gets the feeling that Kroeger - and, indeed, the vast majority of his interchangeable contemporaries - will be lucky not to be embarking on a challenging newcareer in the fast food industry in just half that time. If they don't make musicians quite like Billy Corgan anymore, then it's equally true that musicians no longer make albums quite like Billy Corgan does either. The five frequently fantastic (in both the literal and figurative senses of the word) full-length studio albums that he recorded in nine years with the Smashing Pumpkins were characterised by a constantly evolving aesthetic that meant no two sounded entirely alike. In fact, the only truly constant component of that band's sound was Corgan's uniquely nasal vocals. As such, and despite the frontman's assiduous assertions that his first post-Pumpkins project proper is a "bona fide" band as opposed to a solo album, it's initially impossible to view 'Mary Star Of The Sea' as anything other than what Billy did next. Perhaps aware of this, Corgan holds back until the album's penultimate track (significantly, also the one from which it derives its name) before embarking on the epic, 14 minute-long rebirth parable 'Jesus I/Mary Star Of The Sea'. Essentially two songs segued seamlessly together, it marks Corgan's transition from past to present. It's followed by the harmonica-led, countrified closer 'Come With Me', probably the only track here that, in truth, wouldn't sit comfortably "somewhere" in the Smashing Pumpkins' back catalogue. This disarmingly subtle sequencing does as much as anything else to establish 'Mary Star Of The Sea' as a Zwan album, rather than a Billy Corgan album. That's not to discredit Corgan's contention that Zwan's first full-length features more collaborative compositions than any other he has recorded, however. There's plenty of evidence to suggest that not only does each member of Zwan plays their part, but also that they play them well. Corgan has always been an accomplished - if underrated - guitarist, but the intricate interplay between Matt Sweeney and David Pajo (ex-Skunk and Slint respectively) occasionally borders on the breathtaking, and Paz Lenchantin's understated basslines fulfil a melodic role similar to those played by Peter Hook in Corgan's onetime employers New Order. Longtime Corgan cohort Jimmy Chamberlin, meanwhile, is seemingly back to his very best form, his deftly dynamic drumming propelling perky opener 'Lyric' and febrile first single 'Honestly'. As with any new album bearing Corgan's name, the temptation to overanalyse 'Mary Star Of The Sea' is great. And yet to do so would run the risk of overlooking the fact that it is essentially a collection of classic rock songs. Corgan claimed in Kerrang! recently that the relief of surviving September 11 has left him feeling grateful to be alive and making music, and whether upbeat ('Declarations Of Faith', with its lyrical nod to Springsteen's 'Born To Run'), downcast (the mesmerisingly melancholic 'Of A Broken Heart'), or just plain out there ('Baby Let's Rock!), the music that he has made is rarely less than inspired. Back in 1998, prior to the release of the Smashing Pumpkins' electronica-influenced 'Adore' album, Corgan crowed, in the outspoken manner that artistes adopt from time to time, that rock music was dead. He's never really been allowed to live that premature proclamation down, so it seems somehow appropriate that, five years on, it should be him that breathes new life into the genre. Reviewed By: DAN SILVER |