About a week ago, I started to write a review of Shiny and oh so bright, the first Pumpkins album since Zeitgeist to feature the talents of drummer extraordinaire, Jimmy Chamberlin; and the first album since Machina (from all the way back in 2000), to feature James Iha. Expectations were correspondingly high and I must admit that my first reaction was one of disappointment. I wrote my review, endeavouring to achieve balance, but I couldn’t get it across the finish line. Part of the problem was that, with each subsequent listen, different elements popped out, demanding attention and different songs became firm favourites. It was maddening and, in the end, I scrapped it all and put the CD to one side. It was as well I did. After a week of not listening, I got sick of various songs floating through my head and came to the cheerful conclusion that the new album, as so many Pumpkins albums have been, is a grower and one that rewards patience over instant gratification. It may not reach the giddy heights of Siamese Dream, or indulge in the rampant excesses of Mellon Collie, but it is a far better album than can easily be gauged with one or two listens.
Opening with knights of Malta, you’d be forgiven for thinking Billy had truly lost the plot once and for all. An epic introduction with too-loud keyboards and a nagging melody, its closest relative would be one of the many ballads permeating Chinese Democracy. Shudder at such a comparison if you will, but Knights of Malta is Billy at his most grandstanding and yet… and yet, underneath it all, Jimmy Chamberlin’s still-startling ability behind the kit drives it all forward with ferocious precision. And yet… where a solo should be, James Iha’s backwards-phased guitar proves seductive in its oblique simplicity. It’s not what I expected or wanted, and yet it proves to be a very strong opening indeed, worming its way under the skin with insidious ease. Similarly, Silvery sometimes (ghosts) takes its time to really introduce itself. Driven by Jimmy’s taut beat, it’s classic Pumpkins in the vein of try try try and, with Billy sounding in better voice than some time, not to mention James’ spidery guitar figures, it is likely to sit high in the pantheon of great Pumpkins’ tracks as fans increasingly succumb to its myriad charms. Still keeping things light, Billy guides us into the wide-eyed wonder of Travels, the work of a man who, for all his experiences in the industry, still maintains a touch of the innocence that lay at the heart of Gish all those years ago. The first half comes to a sudden and blisteringly exciting end with Solara. Proof that the band have lost none of their ability to set the adrenalin coursing through the veins, it opens with a tough, chugging refrain, nailed by Jimmy’s incisive percussion, before Billy launches an all-out riff assault. It’s the thunderclap that follows the lightning and, in just four-and-a-half minutes, all the tangential departures in which the Pumpkins have engaged are left in the dust as a chemistry long-thought lost explodes vividly into life.
Opening side two, Alienation, which starts out its life mired in hazy synth and eerie piano, shows that the spirit of the much-underrated adore is alive and well. A beautifully understated piece of music, it once again sees Billy’s more expansive tendencies tempered with startlingly good effect. In contrast, Marchin’ on is built around a chrome-plated riff that just seems to keep building until it hits a point where your heart is racing in time to Jimmy’s increasingly frantic drums. As exciting as anything Billy has ever put his name to, it is bound to be a live favourite and it floors the listener with a breakdown that makes you want to leap to your feet. With the end of the album looming, Billy offers a lullaby in the form of with sympathy, a track that could easily sit on Mellon collie, before the band round out the disc with the fiery seek and you shall destroy, a mid-paced track that takes its time to reach its violent peak without once losing sight of its central, gloriously shiny melody.
The pumpkins have had more than their fair share of ups and downs over the years, and even this album found itself mired in controversy thanks to the remarkably open conflict that erupted between the band and their former bassist, D’arcy. Such conflict could have signalled disaster, derailing the reunion before it even hit the tracks and yet somehow the band have triumphed, as they so often have, in adversity. Although the music is not instant, if the listener is prepared to spend some time in the album’s company, they’ll find themselves swept away by a set of songs that are powerful, coherent and which, in many ways, offer a neat summation of the Pumpkins’ work from Gish to Machina. An unexpected delight, Shiny and oh so bright neatly subverts all expectations and emerges as a very good record indeed. 9
