That concert was the greatest time I have ever had in life. My friend and I were in the mosh pit (I was really hoping to get in the VIP section but we were too late.) But we were in the very front, getting smashed into the metal gate. It couldn't get any better. It sounded great, they looked great, and I was so hyped up afterward. It was one hour before I got out of the parking lot, forty-five minutes before I got out of Minneapolis, and then an hour and a half before I got to my house. All in all, I cant' wait for them to come back. I promise, that to all you alternative fanatics out there, who not only miss the whole genre itself but those who also grieve the loss of those who died with it such as Kurt Cobain, that I Denise will be here in Minnesota, and all over the world, I am right behind the Pumpkins in whatever they proceed to accomplish, and they will continue to inspire me and all those copycats ahead, I am going to get out there with my guitar and sweat, and bring back a few of those all time riffs and modify it with the help of the main man himself, Billy Corgan. Don't beleive? Right behind me? I don't care about either I'm too damn determined to bring at least the life of it back to the music that brought me to my feet. You might want to save this, and use it to refer back to one day when you see a Denise from Minnesota out there playing with the band she loves most. Thinking rational and totally blowing me off about this is exactly what made people like Billy stronger and more determined than ever. I'm in lovewith rock!!!

“The Indescribable Moments of Your Life - an extensive concert diary”

Falling away...rising up. ‘Twas a wonderful night in itself, the beautiful melodies of today and the far-away guitar rock and true drum beats we’ve all missed, along with Billy Corgan’s sweet singing that ranged from near-whispers to jellybelly wails .....D’Arcy’s prominetly poised figure, angelic despite her revealing shirt and worn black demon horns, and her usual deadpanned look ..... James Iha’s seeming detachment from the rest of the group, usually presumably off in his own little world of bugg superstars and translucent folk medlies...his small but beautifully sculpted figure and striking facial features appearing every so often from behind his black streaks of hair and stark clothing.

But this isn’t what made the nite for me. Just being there, experiencing all life means to me, there amongst the thousands of people ..... whether they happened to be one of the many “scenesters,” there for the appeal of something seemingly “trendy” and the promise of something for free, whether they realize the greatness or not one of the true fans (I actually happened upon a few Listessians) or one of the crazed street-walkers we encountered along the way. (One frightening being, nicknamed “Bloody” by us, wandered along muttering, “Don’t hit anyone, or take their stuff,” over and over again, to no bodies in particular. We soon noticed him sitting in some trash, smoking a joint and bleeding from his hands ... whenever he neared us, we escaped quickly, as to not receive and unwanted disease.)

Surrounded by these people made this event both more interesting (i.e. Bloody), yet annoying (the crowd surfers few moshers and people who just HAD to prove they were TRUE fans by singing along, at the top of their lungs and into my ears, to every single song). But these were minor factors, considering he event. THE Smashing Pumpkins. THE Billy Corgan, James Iha, and one and only D’Arcy. But let’s start from the beginning ... which is really the end of a different beginning, but anyhow...

We arrived, finally, at about 3 o’clock, on the afternoon of July 17th, 1998. “We” consisted of me, my best friend/boyfriend Cole, also a huge fan, and 4 others who either HATED the Pumpkins, or at least weren’t very familiar with them. Cole and I decided to separate, and we soon found our friends Nick, Nick, and Dustin, all huge fans. We hung around together the whole day, waiting for the gates to open. Eventually we moved around to the side gates (after various encounters with Bloody) to get a better chance of getting up front. The closest to the stage was a v.i.p. area, but we weren’t concerned with that. When the guards let loose, we got to our perceived destination.

Soon, turmoil began. They began giving away v.i.p. arm bands to anyone who showed up, so after waiting awhile, struggling to make sure it was safe, we raced over to receive our arm bands. We were in. Cole and I weaved our way through about half the crowd, till we were near the middle, towards the right of the stage. Now the real waiting began.

Surprisingly, two opening bands preceded the Pumpkins. The first to play was some band out of California named Furrside. Pretty lame choice for an opener -- the singer (a chick) sang like Alanis and had lyrics which were about as deep as Gavin Rossdale’s. Needless to say...

The next band, Cracker, was preceded by the mayor on Minneapolis, Sharon Sayles Belton, who is a wannabe-diva, I think (possibly a mix between Oprah and Star Jones from “The View”). I was expecting her to “raise the roof.” But it is pretty cool that the fact that the show was free was all because of her.

Also, some whorish chick with a large bosom was brought onstage by one of Minneapolis’s many “hard rock” radio stations, Rock 100.3, promoting (?) themselves by declaring that she had “Rock 100.3’s pumpkins.” Disgusting. Cole and I stared at each other in shock as testosterone-filled guys hoot-n-hollered for a moment. This is the world we live in...

Cracker played their nineties-alternative-hit-parade-of-stale-hit-songs playlist ...and everyone just seemed to be having a great time. But I was going crazy. The first no-name band started at 6 o’clock, and the Pumpkins were due up at 8. Cracker *finally* ended the pain at 7:30, giving us over half an hour to go mad in anticipation.

Slowly, we creeped up through the crowd, closer and closer to the bondary gate. We searched and searched for our little dearies...and by 8 o’clock there was no sign of them. Time slowly passed .. the waiting infatuated us. And suddenly around 8:15, the 3 unimportant drummers, nameless but for Kenny Aranoff, emerged to their orderly drumsets .. followed by James, Billy, and D’Arcy to their respectable places onstage. After this point my mind became so undefiled and enraptured that the meories only come back as disjointed sequences and little scenes that seem like yesterday, yet so far behind in the past. So please forgive me if there are missequences or other mistakes.

Was it shock? Or total unbeuiled peace...? Maybe just one of those unspeakable moments in life, nonunderstandable to anyone but God Himself, including your own self. So all I can really truly describe about that nite besides the feelings of total peace and unmatched nirvana that I don’t know if I’ll ever have the chance to experience again until the moment I die ..... all I can begin to describe are the scattered memories floating around my mind.

I remember thinking that it all way too real, too RIGHT, to actually be occurring. It all fell together so perfectly it was nearly dreamlike. The way they looked, their actions, the music...even the imperfections were perfect. My dreams of them beforehand were beautifully shattered with this newfound sense of authenticity...it was truly them for the first time.

They were all completely dressed in black, except for D’Arcy’s pale-greenish satin pants (which had black embroidered vines cascading down the legs). D’Arcy’s well-renowned horns and lace shirt, along with Billy’s peacoat, were also present. Kenny Aranoff stood out horribly in his black-and-yellow tacky ensemble, but my attention was completely focused on the Pumpkins themselves, mainly Billy, the entire time.

The minute the Pumpkins hit the stage, the crowd went mad. Maybe they felt like me, or maybe they were just star-struck. This went on throughout the first song of the night, predictably enough “To Sheila,” alas it was beautiful. Louder than the album version, which didn’t exactly do this song justice. It’s meant to be a quiet song, yet its power never fails.

The second song to be performed was “Behold! The Night Mare.” Very similar to the way “To Sheila” was played, with the added loudness of the drums nearly overpowering Billy’s voice. At this point I was already questioning myself with whether it was what I had expected...but soon these feelings faded.

I had been pretty excited about hearing “Pug” being played that nite, but I think this was one of the nite’s “disappointments” (if I may even go as far as calling them that). It seemed to lack the energy and passion I’ve come to realize, and love, on the album version.

Next up was “Tear,” my favorite album song. I think this is the point where Billy introduced the band and album, and “this is called ‘Tear.’” They then proceded into a slightly longer introduction than usual, then Billy’s vocal “solo,” and then onto the rest of the song as usual. Most of the performance was misted with green lighting.

The drummer closest to James started the next song out with the shaking of maraca-like instruments, prompting the beginning of “Ava Adore.” With the first words of the song, the crowd immediately recognized the album’s “big hit” and predictably enough started to go crazy. Moshing may have been involved with this one, along with some major head-banging and your typical crowd-surfing. Some people...but this seemed to be the song performance that broke the Pumpkins out of their metaphorical “shell.” This sounded GREAT live, and got the audience finally involved.

After this point I couldn’t keep the song list straight, for my mind was falling overitself and I just couldn’t keep things in order any longer. I’m not sure, but I think “Once Upon a Time” was next. (Otherwise I’m guessing either “Perfect” or “Daphne Descends.”) This song was done beautifully, very similar to the album version.

“Thru the Eyes of Ruby” followed whatever song was actually played sixth. It came to a surprise to most of the crowd, who seemed to be more familiar with the “Mellon Collie” collection. I had been expecting either this song or “Porcelina.” This remake was done beautifully (a word that regularily comes to my mind since the concert). They even did an extended guitar solo at the end! It was definately one of the show’s high points.

I’m not positive, but I think “Perfect” was next. This performance was nearly identical to the acoustic version heard on a recent “Modern Rock Live” performance. Billy strapped on his acoustic guitar and D’Arcy sang back-up. The crowd recognized this one, of course.

At this point of the show I think Billy and D’Arcy talked to the audience, thanking us for being there “tonight, tonight.” (This was a crowd-pleaser, although it was done in a sweetly simplistic, bluegrass-style.) Before the song, Billy commented on “all you crazy people standing on top of that building” (watching the show from a nearby building’s rooftop), and D’Arcy uttered her first words of the nite -- “Please, don’t jump.” Billy added, “The Smashing Pumpkins are not a band that condones dangerous activity of any type,” and with that...

After the hand-clapping version of “Tonight, Tonight,” *I think* the band passively went into “Daphne Descends,” alight with red stage lights. It was like being in a heavenly hell. Billy ended with the lyrics changed around to, “you love him, she loves you, you love him, etc.”

There wasn’t much to “Shame,” done more quietly than previous songs (but with its own soul-fleeing power). The guitar solo was, of course, included. The crowd quieted down. But not for long.

The drum sets slowly started up again after “Shame”’s ending. I suppose it was to highlight the wonderful three drummers, namely Kenny Aranoff. Although I have to admit it was pretty good.

I knew from the start of those drums that “Bullet With Butterfly Wings” would soon ensue. And sure enough, it did. No one else seemed to be in on the secret -- the crowd didn’t really respond until after the band returned (they had left the stage while the drum solo went on) and Billy uttered the timeless words, “the world is a vampire.” This supposed-new version of the classic mainly only differed in its lack of guitars, replaced but its overcharge of drum beats, with Billy’s speak-then-scream vocals remaining. It was exciting hearing this song, being played live and in its new context, and hearing Billy just CREAM the scream we thought he had put to rest and ply the part of his guitar-rock-god angst-ridden zero/hero we were all afraid we had lost for good. “The more you change, the more you stay the same.” These words come to mind now...although I’m not sure if their from Billy’s mouth himself.

After this catalictic uprising, Billy put his hands on his shimmering bald head, then moving them outward in an explosive gesture, remarked that, “You all jsut want to go CRAZY.” He then said that “You picked the wrong album to go crazy to.” (Clever genius, at his best.)

The supposed last song of the nite turned out to be “For Martha.” I waited and waited, and so far no “Crestfallen” (can you imagine?), no “Appels + Oranjes,” no “Tale of Dusty and Pistol Pete,” no “Blank Page.” I was still hopeful, yet already forseeing what was ahead.

“Majestic” is one word that comes to mind when I think back to “For Martha” played that nite. So do “transcendent,” “timeless,” “spellbinding” ..... “judicious, beautiful, uh, mentive, whatever.”

The winding guitar solo at the end ensued. Nearing the ending, Billy stood at the edge of the stage, first moving to the right side (the side I happened to be on), bowing, waving, blowing kisses, the usual mantra, I suppose. But I was going CRAZY for it! No less. He then moved onto the left of the stage, proceeding with the same actions he had bestowed upon us. To the protesting cries, he exited the stage at the left back corner.

James was next to go. During Billy’s extravagant exit, he and D’Arcy had continued playing. At this point he put away his guitar and began piddling around the stage. Before leaving he waved and actually smiled a little, surprising in how quiet and detached he had been that evening. D’Arcy continued on with her droning bass. Eventually the stage was deserted.

The crowd seemed sullen with this. A few people began mundanely chanting things like, “We want more,” “Billy cme back,” and “Pumpkins,” half-heartedly. It seemed nobody cared to promt an encore since they already knew one was coming anyhow. They just layed in wait, wrapped in themselves, for the great Pumpkins to arrive.

Time passed. Ten, 15 minutes. And...here comes James! Crazy we did go. He took the microphone and spoke to the crowd for the first time of the nite. I don’t remember exactly what was said, but as D’Arcy, and then Billy, re-entered, he and Billy spoke of a “surprise guest.” But the rumoured guest didn’t show...Billy called her their “invisible guest.” To that, D’Arcy replied, “Well, he’s not much of a guest...” with a little smile on her face. Of course, we were all dumbfounded.

Later on, the mayor on Minneapolis (the “special guest,” it turned out) again bestowed her grace upon us with a special announcement. Since that show was the only Pumpkins show in their latest tour which was allowed to be played for free, that day would be “Smashing Pumpkins Day” in Minneapolis. But how does that work? It was already 10 or so at that time. Not much of a “day” to be rewarded with. Anyhow...

They then went onto, as James put it, “play our ‘hit’ song for you.” (He used the quote-unquote finger motions while speaking the word “hit.”) Billy babbled something about the song, and right before going into a sped-up, more guitar-rock-like version of “1979,” James commented, “And now for our HIT song.” Funny guy.

This again got the crowd moving, although not quite as insanely as the “Bullet” remake-reverb crowd-hopper. Not quite my favorite of the night, but each song had its individual merits.

When that ended, the radio transmission began.

The slight disappointment of not hearing “Blank Page or the other blown off for the more “radio friendly” concert attendees’ taste (supposedly) didn’t last long. Billy spoke to the unknown beyond, asking the “ufo’s to come down to us tonite,” with their “Transmission” jam. He then asked the crowd if we were ready to rock. I don’t think he needed a reply. And then we descended into the “Transmission.”

It was my first time of hearing this song -- interesting, but you just KNOW it’s not a Pumpkins original. (Maybe because of the lack of lyrics?) No one seemed to notice, though. Then Billy asked us to “Dance, dance, dance to the radio.” For awhiloe the audience carried that refrain, although without really acting upon it. I guess no one really knew how to move to it. Spectacular, nonetheless.

After the initial part of the song had ended, and Billy had finished screaming “Radio!” over and over again, breakdown-style, into the mic, once again called to the “unknown beings” who had decided to not come down during the “Transmission” jam to dance with us. “There’s always a next time,” I think is how Billy put it.

Again, one by one during the 30 minute (?) long jam session, the pumpkins exited the stage -- but this time for final. First Billy crossed the stage, and as he was doing so, a full bottle of Mountain Dew flew up onstage and landed right in front of him. He was kinda like, “Hey!” but he stepped over it anyhow.

...Then James left, but only after he ripped off his guitar and screamed into Billy’s mic suddenly, before tearing it to the side and stalking offstage.

...D’Arcy left, unsurprisingly, without any goodbyes. But that’s D’Arcy for you...

It was all I could’ve asked for, especially on my 16th birthday (which it happened to be). I wish I could’ve thanked them for the best birthday present ever. It was the best birthday, along with the best DAY, ever. Finally experiencing this phenomena changed my life, as I’m sure many others’. *AFTER DARK*

Cole and I just ERUPTED. We had remained pretty calm throughout the show, but it proved to be too much for us. He screamed at me, “DUSTIN GOT A PICK!!!”
“WHAT??!!”
“He CAUGHT one of Billy’s picks!! He just walked by me and flashed it inn my face!”

I was just like, “WHAT?!” over and over again -- but what could you expect?

Inside my head I was going mad, with rattled thoughts and mangled visions racing from place to place in this compressed area, which had, in essense, been doused with gasoline, erupting in uncontrolled flames with a careless drop of a match.

We found our friends Nick and Nick, and we screamed at each other incoherantly about Dustin’s pick and the show and everything...then Dustin walks by, we’re like, “Dustin!! Let me see it! Let me touch it! Please!”

I’ll admit at this point I became quite star-struck. But I can’t see how you couldn’t be! I mean, BILLY’S OWN PICK. Wow.

The pick itself was orange, with the SP heart logo on one side. And it was Billy’s. It BELONGED to Billy. He played some magnificant manifestos, beautiful music, which originated in his soul, went into his head, then through his nerves, into his majestic fingers...and while playing his guitar, touching the pick, he was touching our hearts and souls at the same time. ok, ok...I’m getting a little sentimental and going into it all a little too deeply...but you get the point.

After walking funny for awhile, hugging everyone we knew, madly (whether they appreciated the show or not), buying a shirt, and bouncing around the parking lot woldly, Cole and I retreated to my unappreciative friends’ car to reminisce, and stopped at Perkins along the way. It all seemed too great to be real...but, yay for me, it was!

Cheers, ta!
until next sign...
jahna p.