"Help a sick man sing!" pleaded Billy Corgan, as the Smashing Pumpkins thrummed their way through a nifty unplugged-style version of 1979. "I'm sick! I can't even speak!" Down in the stalls, Pumpkins zealots shrieked sympathetically.
Engaged on a whistle-stop "if it's Tuesday this must be Belgium" European visit to plug their new album, Machina/The Machines of God, the last thing the Pumpkins needed was for their frontman to be sandbagged by the flu, but the suffering Corgan decided that the London show must go on. His nagging whine of a voice has never been the Pumpkins' strongest asset, but here it sounded like a handful of rusty razor blades clattering round inside a waste-disposal unit. So this wasn't the perfect opportunity to get a first live earful of the new songs, which aren't the most accessible the band have ever recorded. A boomy sound mix didn't help either. Nevertheless, it was still possible to detect Corgan's familiar preoccupations in the music. The Crying Tree of Mercury (lucky this tour was confined to western Europe, because his ludicrous prog-rock song titles could get him arrested by several of the world's less tolerant regimes) is steeped in The Cure's meandering gloom, while Heavy Metal Machine takes its cue from the ear-rupturing excesses of 70s heavy metal. Corgan even recruited Sharon Osbourne, wife of Ozzy, as his manager, but the arrangement disintegrated acrimoniously.
A 70s vibe was also apparent in a spooky, atmospheric arrangement of the David Essex hit Rock On, while the electro-shuffle of Ava Adore mutated into a thundering Zeppelin-style juggernaut. Part of the reason for this may be the return to the Pumpkin fold of drummer Jimmy Chamberlin, now forgiven for his transgressions with banned substances and back to lay down some mammoth grooves. New bassist Melissa Auf Der Maur slotted unobtrusively into the band's barrage of gigawatts.
Second guitarist James Iha promised that the new songs are "really nice", and I of the Mourning showed that there is some Top 40 potential. But the crowd were grateful for back-catalogue highlights like Tonight, Bullet with Butterfly Wings and Cherub Rock. The ghoulishly bald and black-clad Corgan may resemble a Transylvanian grave-robber, but at the end, he paid his respects by spending a few minutes bonding with the crowd and pinging plectrums into the front rows. He's canny enough to recognise the value of a display of humility.
