I'm a Billy Corgan fanboy. I can admit it.

More specifically, I suppose, I must be a Smashing Pumpkins fanboy, given that Zwan, for all its good intentions, good vibes, and other things good, largely left me cold, longing for the days when the rock bombast was accompanied by some form of catharsis. Zwan was supposed to be a sort of happy catharsis, the result of what happens when a band is just so filled with music that it comes spilling out without any regard for those it touches or those it emanated from. But it didn't really work--it felt rushed, it lacked melody, it lacked weight. Mary Star of the Sea has become, too quickly, just another record on the shelf, one that I might pull out for the joy of experiencing "Honestly", but mostly just gathering dust.

Still, my allegiance to Corgan remains strong, for the years of emotional overflow he provided with the Smashing Pumpkins. No band before or since the Pumpkins has meant so much to me, and to my interest in and connection with music has a whole. The Pumpkins made it possible for me to feel the music as much as listen to it, and perhaps it's typical post-high school nostalgia that retains the bond I feel with the band, but I will always appreciate the ways in which they changed me, and changed my outlook on so many things.

And so it was, that months ago, Billy Corgan's new album and first as a solo artist was announced, and it had a title: TheFutureEmbrace. I could hardly contain my excitement, marking the release date on my work calendar as soon as it was confirmed.

Yesterday, I finally bought it. And...well, it's pretty good, actually.

* * *

It's hard not to be disappointed in something Billy Corgan does that only approaches "pretty good", and disappointed I was, two or three listens in. There's nothing here that even approaches "epic", as no song even hits the five-minute mark. The album is done in a svelte 45 minutes, a trick Corgan hadn't pulled off since Gish put the Pumpkins on the map. And even though many of the sounds used give their songs a more expansive, stadium-ready sound, the songs created by those sounds are oddly restrained, almost humble in their execution. What Corgan has done here is put together a series of short vignettes, each of which give us a small glimpse into the psyche of the man behind them, but none of which even approach the confessional tone of glories past. What you think of this approach very likely has much to do with what you thought of Corgan in the past--a lot of people are bound to be let down, but plenty of others relieved.

As part of the "let down" camp, it actually took Corgan's name for benefit of the doubt to take hold enough to motivate me to listen to TheFutureEmbrace more than twice. And actually, I'm glad I did.

Honestly, Corgan didn't do himself any favors beginning with the rather milquetoast "All Things Change", a song that sees him fulfilling the prophecy of the title, but in a really non-energetic way with a too-prominent synthetic beat and lots of Machina-esque fuzzy synths. There's very little musical development or build, just Corgan letting off sentiments like I trust belief belongs to me and We can change the world, which would be nice enough if the music behind them inspired anything whatsoever other than pure ambivalence.

Corgan gets his swagger back with the next couple of tunes, however, as he delves deeper into the darkness (his old friend). "Mina Loy (M.O.H.)" is named for a futurist poet and artist, with whom Corgan obviously deeply identifies, and who was likely the inspiration for the title of the album as well. The "M.O.H." in the title is an acronym for My old heart, which Corgan seems all too ready to give away--via a vaguely industrial beat and lots of intermingling guitar noises, melodies slither more than they soar, Corgan professes his desire to keep his eye on the future, leaving the past behind, an undertaking he is likely trying to seal with the writing of his autobiography via blog (the url of which is helpfully provided in the accompanying liner notes). "The Cameraeye" rides a bass groove into a quick electro beat, decrying the difficulty of honest change in the face of preconceived perceptions. Who needs pain to survive? I need pain to change my life, says Corgan, and ironically, given that past, one can't help but believe him.

"ToLoveSomebody" is a silly excuse for a Bee Gees cover that features The Cure's Robert Smith on guitars and backup vocals. Unfortunately, on an album filled with confessional, Smith's presence feels tacked on and only makes the song sound whinier than it needs to.

As we swirl back into the electro stylings of "A100", it's easy to start wishing that Corgan would just keep staring into the darkness for his inspiration, as it's his most menacing instrumental tracks that are also his most effective--that is, until it flies into a lovely, soaring chorus that completely contradicts such a sentiment. "DIA" rides a propulsive beat that's allegedly by Pumpkins stalwart Jimmy Chamberlin, but mostly might as well be one of Billy's drum machine beats for all we know. Jimmy's technically pretty much perfect, and the structure of the song doesn't provide a lot of room for improvisation, so really, why have him here at all, other than as a symbolic gesture? That said, "DIA" also features some nice violins, and actually reveals itself to be a pretty catchy song after a few listens. "Now (and Then)", besides sporting a really silly excuse for a parenthetical title, is slow and pretty, though that's all I ever remember of it--nothing resembling a memorable vocal line or instrumental break ever makes itself known.

I love "I'm Ready" for its unabashed allusions to 80's pop music, but some might have a hard time getting past the precocious lyrics. Still, it's bouncy and fun, and that's enough to have me singing along in the car on a sunny day. "Walking Shade" continues the 80's revival via a Cure-influenced synth jam that never spends too long on a single chord progression. There are plenty of none-too-subtle effects on Corgan's voice, and the lyric On the 9th day, God created shame is admittedly pretty bad...still, don't pay too much attention, and you're bound to enjoy it. "Sorrows (In Blue)" meanders, almost jamming its way to its overwrought choruses, and sounds an awful lot like an underdeveloped idea that could have been pretty solid given some time to incubate. "Pretty, Pretty Star" is a take on an obvious, if poignantly used metaphor for something Corgan desperately wants but can never reach, and is actually quite beautiful.

But it's nothing compared to...

I take things down
I play chess from both sides now
there’s no regrets
just junk sayings
what is the price if you won’t play?

Perhaps a hint at the loneliness that propelled him to announce his desire to reform his old band on the same day that his solo album came out (which could either be brilliant publicity or commercial suicide for TheFutureEmbrace), "Strayz" closes the album on a note quieter than any Corgan has previously penned. As if putting the final nail in the coffin of his bombastic tendencies, "Strayz" is beatless with quiet synths and a quiet bass guitar, as Billy sits in a corner and sings his saddest, most inward thoughts to nobody in particular. Besides Corgan's name, it's "Strayz" that gave me the will to give TheFutureEmbrace another shot, and "Strayz" that keeps me coming back for more.

So there it is.

* * *

It's easy to be a bit startled by the artwork of TheFutureEmbrace--Corgan is posed and photographed, apparently nude (or at least shirtless) in a number of odd, striking positions that emphasize the shape of the human body. A personal favorite is the overhead shot that gives particular pronouncement to the shape of Corgan's ears, though the back cover, taken from behind Corgan with his hand looking like a particularly large spider on the top of his head is a favorite as well. The intent, surely, is to evoke a sense of Corgan laying himself out for all to see, all of his flaws and strengths intact and unfiltered, a reflection of the music on the album.

But the music itself tells a different story.

In most eyes, Billy Corgan is an egomaniacal jerk, a claim I have little grounds to dispute or support, given that I don't know him. Even so, I always kind of believed it, even if I held a justification for it to temper my love of such a character--of course he's an egomaniacal jerk. Who else but a complete egomaniac would explore himself in such detail, laying out every piece of his Shakespearean tragedy of a life out for all to see? You see, in my mind, it was and is that very self-absorption that made his art so compelling.

As such, page-long midlife crises in the Chicago Tribune notwithstanding, it's easy to see TheFutureEmbrace as a statement of maturation, of looking to the future with a knowing eye and a sense of being aware of, but not dominated by, the past. I love TheFutureEmbrace for its continuing self-awareness, but I loathe it for its unwillingness to completely explode. In the end, I appreciate it for its musical achievement--a simple collection of pop songs, most of them good. That, in and of itself, is something I never would have thought Billy Corgan capable of.

Recommended: Yes