The Smashing Pumpkins Aghori Mhori Mei

It always seemed as if the only way The Smashing Pumpkins could ever grab most listeners' attention again was by, to put it bluntly, rocking out. Aghori Mhori Mei, the veteran alternative rockers' 13th album -- debatably, their 11th conceptual release -- does attempt to answer the question of how the band would return to their celebrated early-90s output, but less in imitation and more in practice. In frontman Billy Corgan's perception, that meant bringing back rhythm guitarist James Iha and drummer Jimmy Chamberlin into a studio setting, which hadn't happened since 2017's post-reunion test run Shiny and Oh So Bright, Volume 1. 

 

Depending on how you like your guitar tone fuzz, a neverending point of contention from purists, Aghori Mhori Mei unquestionably falls into the heavier side of that spectrum. While full-throttle opener Edin extracts the dreamier side of their sound -- which, given Corgan's production choices as of late, is long gone -- it does reveal how the band hasn't lost their love for metal-tinged psychedelia, returning to the rowdier cuts on 1995's Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness and their debut album Gish. At times, these pivots can be both sides jarring and exhilarating, like on Pentagrams, which seems to share more of a commonality with bands like Soundgarden and A Perfect Circle -- the latter of which Iha moonlighted in before rejoining the band at full capacity -- than their new wave of British heavy metal-leaning Zeitgeist.

 

But, to return to the question of how the Pumpkins rock better, the simple answer is that they're just more dynamic songs. While Corgan has attempted this formula before, the commercially underwhelming Monuments to an Elegy being a good example of how he tried to pick up the pieces of his past at the wrong time, he's at a happier, more whole place in his personal life and the results show. Take Pentagrams, which might seem fairly commonplace on paper until it builds into an unpredictable, six-and-a-half-minutes of sludgy prog rock that fully depends on Iha and Chamberlin's performances. For once, it doesn't feel like Corgan is tinkering inside a studio by himself calling the shots. The same goes with 999, in which the band taps into their progressive tendencies even further similar to 2023's ATUM, but with more of a limber and forceful treatment to that album's stodgier, kitschy treatment. It might seem uncommon for them to write like this, but coming from a band whose members consider Rush and Weather Report pinnacles of the genre, it's entirely in character.

 

Of course, it wouldn't be a true Pumpkins album if Corgan wouldn't feel compelled to consider writing more singles-driven material. Surprisingly, even the poppier moments on Aghori Mhori Mei don't have the most arresting choruses, but that actually works to its benefit. The uniquely titled Sighommi, which continues Corgan's fascination with the occult, is the closest they arrive at writing radio-rock, in which the band drives in an acid rock groove sweetened by Katie Cole's backing vocals. Even when clocking in at less than three minutes, it's more tuneful and multi-layered than ATUM's more straightforward singles Empires and Beguiled. There are touches of synths on Who Goes There, an 80s-inspired anthem that shows Corgan's more poetic inclinations. Just like his more emotional side, the ballad doesn't initially make an impression, but its lyrical openness grows on you. There are recollections of their 90s tenure on Goeth the Fall, which moves at a mid-tempo pace akin to 1979, wrapped in lithe production touches that add buoyancy to the bright strumming pattern.

 

While Aghori Mhori Mei doesn't reach the same highs as some of their defining albums, it does show the original trio of Corgan, Iha, and Chamberlin forging a newfound musical identity in lockstep. Claims of a so-called return will resurface more pointedly than ever before, which, given the band's checkered history, are more than fair. But that just adds to the Pumpkins' unique myth: a band that, through their 35-plus year journey, has increasingly chosen not to care about their place in rock history to cater to their niche, albeit, with the benefit of a larger audience than most. Looking back is usually what foils bands like Pumpkins, and given the album's lean, unadulterated approach, it propels them forward.