Mary Star of the Sea
ZWAN
Reprise
"1979" is certainly one of the best tunes in the Smashing Pumpkins canon. It's also wholly different from any of the other titles which may be considered superlative, by dint of its character. "1979" is a pop song, maybe the only true pop song Billy Corgan released in the guise of the Pumpkins. Everything else they did fits rather easily into two other categories: "rock" and "shite." Sure, the band was mercurial and ambitious (hell, that's what sunk 'em), but they were a rock outfit — for all of their artiness, alt-cred and inexplicable Goth fetishism, the stick Corgan measured himself against was of Zeppelinesque proportions. And "1979" is masterful, but it doesn't rock you. It pops and bops you.
Zwan, it would seem, is Corgan's attempt to map the middle ground between "1979" and the assaulting rock of his other finest hours. Don't be fooled by the band's pedigree or the smattering of shared songwriting credits. Paz Lenchantin (A Perfect Circle), Matt Sweeney (Cat Power, Guided by Voices) and David Pajo (Slint, Stereolab, Tortoise) all contribute creatively, but it's to a minimal degree. The overriding personality here is that of the Tall Bald Weird One.
Does that mean Mary Star of the Sea comes off like the lost sessions between Mellon Collie and Adore's infinite sadness? A bit, yes, what with Corgan's whine and some of that overfuzzed shredding in full effect. But the tunes don't feel like SP, and in its drive to split the difference between rock and pop, the disc sacrifices the power of the former and the whimsy of the latter.
The first single, "Honestly," is the most immediate nostalgia trigger here, and while there's definitely a resemblance, "Today" and other hook-driven Pumpkins anthems packed more weight. Even drummer Jimmy Chamberlain seems overly subdued, echoing the straightforward looped rhythm of "1979" throughout.
This may be the place where you want to point out that, duh, Zwan is NOT the Pumpkins, and I shouldn't be comparing them. Which, of course, is bullshit. Corgan didn't put out a record of concertos for oboe and zither. He didn't even change genres, he just changed members, wrote a bunch of guitar-driven, arty, alt-credible songs, and sang on them. It's not a new direction so much as fresh meat and a fresh perspective.
If Zwan were somebody's first outing, it would go down as an ambitious, mature, and better-than- average debut, because there's some decent stuff here ("Lyric," "Of A Broken Heart," "Baby Let's Rock!," "Jesus, I/Mary Star of the Sea"). But as the new album by the guy who made Gish, not to mention the presence of several other talented folks, it's too ostentatiously pop to get floored by, too ironically rock to bop along to, and too uneven to praise. 
1/2
—Scott Harrell
Iron Leg: The Complete Mickey and the Soul Generation
MICKEY AND THE SOUL GENERATION
Quannum Projects/Cali-Tex
A decade ago, DJ Shadow ran across Mickey & the Soul Generation's "Iron Leg" on an otherwise tepid jazz-funk comp. A quest was born. Through copious musicological research, Shadow tracked down the long-split R&B ensemble in San Antonio. This set — as good an example of rare-groove as you're apt to find — represents the fruit of his labor. The six-piece band sprouted from the fertile cross-culturization of Tejanos and African-Americans. What resulted was a muscular, raw-boned brand of instrumental R&B, like James Brown's Famous Flames but more tightly wound, like Booker T. but wilder, like Average White Band but not as slick. Greasy B-3 organ plays off of a double tenor sax front line, which is punctuated with sinewy bass, slinky wah-inflected guitar and, of course, brawny drumming. The best songs here possess an irresistible sense of propulsion. The 19 selections, several seeing release for the first time, were cut from 1969 to 1973; none made a dent in the national psyche. M&SG was among the litany of promising acts that earned local and regional success but got kicked around by the industry when it came time to take it nationwide. Difference is, this band gets to delight funk fans all over again, 30 years on. —Eric Snider
Attention! Blah Blah Blah
ATOM AND HIS PACKAGE
Hopeless
Atom and His Package is exactly the sort of thing that would've irritated the shit out of me back when I was first getting into underground music but still had no tolerance for smart people being cleverly stupid (Dead Milkmen, anyone?). And apparently, I haven't evolved to the degree that I'd hoped. While I can appreciate Atom's facility and creativity, I also want to put a Sharpie through my left eye after about four songs. If everything sounded as good as "Friend, Please Stop Smoking" and "Head with Arms" (quite possibly the greatest one-two punch ever to be buried in the middle of a full-length), such would not be the case. But the metallic riffs, punk-pop riffs, metallic punk-pop riffs and non-stop Package yammerage just get to me after a while. Atom's a sharp one, and I think he's great fun live, or for about seven minutes of a mix CD. A 13-track disc, however (can you believe he's got, like, five albums out?), is just too tiresome, no matter how good the lyrics. 1/2 —Scott Harrell
Dies Tonight
THE DROPSCIENCE
Happy Couples Never Last Records
The Dropscience claim to follow in the footsteps of the progressive rock masters, but it sure doesn't sound that way. After only a few listens to Dies Tonight, they sound like a mediocre punk band that couldn't dent the log-jammed genre and decided to wander into a realm of eclectic botchery in the name of prog-rock. Dropscience outfits their Fugazi forgery with dull synthesizers and various cosmic guitar-chord endeavors. The band also showcases some of the worst lyrical ability this side of CKY, which especially surfaces on the dreadfully titled "This is a Picture of a Tiger Exploding." Further, the Dropscience's faux prog is overshadowed by the disc's terrible production. Dies Tonight sounds as if the producer asked each band member to play something totally different in four separate rooms — and then spooled the tape together. Then again, that's probably as close as this band could come to making a prog-rock album. —Nick Margiasso
This article appears in Feb 19-25, 2003.