“MACHINA/ the machines of God”

The Smashing Pumpkins

If there ever was a constant in the music business, it’s that the Smashing Pumpkins will never repeat themselves. For what may be the last album by all four original band members (bassist D’arcy left the band to pursue acting), the band has put together a prolific collection of songs.

“The Everlasting Gaze,” grinds the album into gear with the familiar buzz of guitar the Pumpkins made famous in the early 1990s. As Billy Corgan sings “You know I’m not dead,” he’s almost reminding the world that despite the band’s ultimately ignored previous album, “Adore,” his band still knows how to rock.

Perhaps it was “Adore’s” intimate sound that failed to appeal to a wider audience. Or maybe it was the return of ex-drummer Jimmy Chamberlain that reinvigorated the band to rock once again.

Whatever the cause of the band’s re-energized sound, one thing is certain — this album surpasses most current music, without having to reinvent the wheel.

“Stand Inside Your Love” tumbles along gently, teetering on the edge of exploding as Corgan croons with intimate, yet lofty sincerity. Before long, the song blasts into a sonic wall of stellar proportions, giving new and epic meaning to the standard power ballad.

Corgan proves he still knows how to write a love song without sounding banal. The same goes for the pop tunes, “I of the Mourning,” and “Try, Try, Try.”

On “I of the Mourning” Corgan remains sentimental, but later throws himself into it, screaming “What is it you want to change,” juxtaposing the feel-good nature of “Try, Try, Try,” as Corgan affectionately addresses the conflict of coming to grips with letting go of the past.

The record marks a departure from the norm for the band sonically. Many of the songs are played in C-tuning, two steps lower than standard, giving them a darkly haunting edge. The Black Sabbath-influenced “Heavy Metal Machine” is but one example of the experimental tuning.

“MACHINA” continually changes mood from song to song. The terrifyingly dark “The Crying Tree of Mercury,” and the even gloomier “Blue Skies Bring Tears” are followed up by the happy-go-lucky sound of “With Every Light.”

Maintaining the epic pull of past songs like “Silverfuck” and “Porcelina of the Vast Oceans,” the 10-minute “Glass and the Ghost Children” never loses captivation. Arcane chords cry metallic tears of sound behind Corgan’s cosmically cryptic vocals. It takes profoundly positive shifts while Corgan pleads with God, “All is You/ You are all,” before eventually breaking down into silence followed by a recording of Corgan talking about the qualms of his own demagoguery.

Songs like this make it apparent Corgan is a guitar genius and songwriting guru. Whether or not his ego is the size of Chicago, he’s remained true to himself, his band, his fans and most importantly, the music.

Although alternative music died, the Smashing Pumpkins refused to be buried alive, opting instead for a reincarnation. They transformed into a prolific icon representing where we once were and where we will go, all under the direction of one enigmatic mortal and his music machine.

5 Stars

— Kevin Hosbond

“Standing on the Shoulder of Giants”

Oasis

Throughout their time in Oasis, the constantly bickering Gallagher brothers’ source of inspiration has been fairly obvious.

From the “Yellow Submarine”-like video for “All Around the World” to the song “Magic Pie,” the band has been anything but subtle regarding their desire to be the Beatles.

Noel and Liam Gallagher have been both lauded and attacked for their musical aspirations. After the release of “(What’s the Story) Morning Glory?,” some critics labeled the brothers the next John Lennon and Paul McCartney, while others were more skeptical.

“Be Here Now” seemed to justify those individuals in the music industry who were unsure if Oasis was worthy of the Beatles comparisons. At times noisy and abrasive, the record was difficult for even some die-hard Oasis fans to fully appreciate.

The loss of both a bass player and a rhythm guitar player combined with the ever-present brotherly tension could have torn the band apart. Instead, Liam and Noel overcame these obstacles and created an album that surpasses all their previous releases except “Morning Glory.”

Noel’s efforts as a solo artist found him dabbling in techno, and it shows on “Standing on the Shoulder of Giants.”

Each song pulses with looped drums, and some tracks even feature samples. The beats blend well with the music and the album does not sound like Oasis attempting to be Prodigy. Instead, it sounds like Oasis trying to sound like Oasis. In other words, the Beatles.

However, not everything is the same.

“Little James,” the first song penned by Liam, appears on the record. Similar in style to the Beatles’ “Hey Jude,” it begins with swirling notes that take shape as the piano enters.

Though the structure and melody are simple, the song is completely perfect for its subject matter. Liam’s voice, usually filled with sarcasm now sounds, for once, entirely sincere. It’s as if he is singing to an audience of one — his wife’s son, James.

Completing the “Hey Jude” feel, the song ends with Liam repeatedly singing “Na na na na” and eventually fading out.

Noel is the lead vocalist on two songs, which is another first for a full-length Oasis album. “Where Did It All Go Wrong?” features a strong vocal performance from the musical mastermind.

“Sunday Morning Call,” also sung by Noel, is the pinnacle of the album. Noel has always expressed a desire to write the perfect pop song, and that song is the closest he has come.

The contemplative track begins softly, building intensity as guitar effects, piano, drums and vocals float and interweave. The lyrics are simultaneously melancholy and hopeful, as he sings, “But I’m not sure if it ever works out right/ But it’s okay/ It’s all right.”

Most likely resulting from the band’s tumultuous history, this contrasting theme lasts throughout the record.

Only one thing is disappointing about the record — it’s too short, containing only 10 tracks.

Oasis has no reason to stand on the shoulder of giants — they stand tall on their own.

4 1/2 Stars

— Jon Dahlager

“Thank You Very Little”

Screeching Weasel

Chicago punkers Screeching Weasel have endured a tumultuous 14-year career, repeatedly hitting nationwide punk scenes, crisscrossing the country in a van and playing $5 shows at all the run-down bowling alleys and small clubs of the world.

“Thank You Very Little,” their new double-disc, chronicles the scope of the band’s material, from hardcore to pop-punk to plain pop.

Loaded with 50 songs, “Thank You Very Little” makes for a worthy introduction into Screeching Weasel’s repertoire.

You know that typical punk-pop sound that you hear from bands like Blink 182 and Goldfinger? Well, Screeching Weasel and their cohorts laid the groundwork for it back in the mid ’80s.

Much of the record’s songs come from demo tapes and recording session outtakes, so the sound quality is a bit substandard.

It’s very raw, but given the punk context, that doesn’t matter much. In fact, the unpolished nature of this recording is surprisingly its saving grace. This feeling is heightened by the liner notes, which point out unique tidbits about each song, how, where and why it was written.

“Someday,” for example, appears here with no bass line because of an accident in the studio in which the bass track got erased.

The liner notes provide incredible insight about the band, more comprehensive than any article that could ever be written in a punk magazine or band bio.

Harking back to the old school is 1986’s songs “Nothing Matters” and “I Hate Old Folks,” which were submitted to renowned punk fanzine MaximumRockNRoll to be included in the magazine’s “new bands” section.

Some early and alternate versions of “Hey Suburbia,” “I Need Therapy” and “I Wanna Be a Homosexual” add familiarity into the collection, which is also spiced up by rough versions of “Jeannie’s Got a Problem With Her Uterus” and “Cryin’ in My Beer” (recorded by hot-shot indie rocker Steve Albini who would go on to record Nirvana’s “In Utero”).

Gems of simplicity like “Shirley’s on Methadone” and “Amy Saw Me Looking At Her Boobs” are drenched in vocal harmonies that make pop-punk so infectious.

These songs epitomize the grassroots DIY spirit more than anything Blink 182 could ever do. They’re not squeaky clean and polished, but that’s the idea, and it works.

4 Stars

— Conor Bezane

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Ratings based on a 5 Star scale