We have arrived on time. Take a rest, sit down and find a good position, don’t forget to get something hot to drink and finally relax, but please come closer, I have something to suggest you before nosing around.

Welcome to the Reign of Melancholy, in the so far Teargarden Land.

Let’s take Billy Corgan as a unique King of pain, let’s imagine how his soft, bittersweet writing style can tell us, in a smooth, charcoal, polychrome overflowing of impressions, the very story of Smashing Pumpkins. Words like blunt swords coming from the gap that separates him from the rest of his related, other men, hard-fought metaphors cried by astonished eyes, written with human blood on the mere sand, drown by the hands of the beloved ones, as expected. Let’s pretend to be all subjects in this kingdom, let’s forget that everybody hurts/sometimes.

After a quite long break our regent is going to please us with another tale, a tale coming from his own experience, a mythic legend full of bravery and patience and strength and love and hate as well, a sort of blinking with fists fable, lovely but nippy, honey garlic. I suggest a sincere clapping. While recording two new albums, Oceania and Teargarden by Kaleidyscope (in honor of our glorious, wonderful Land), he started writing an autobiography, titled God is Everywhere, from Here to There, a sort of “spiritual memoir”, collected by our king on his own, stealing one hour per day to his musician’s duties. Made up with total fresh material, it will take another year to be published, and will probably outnumber the Holy Bible in terms of pages amount. By now, 300 paper sides have been fulfilled, and we’re not even close to the very half of this epic deed. Not bad for a crowned minstrel, hey!

What is more interesting for us, humble subjects in his bright starry reign, is that our majesty won’t limit himself to confide the audience about the whole story of his music band, but we will finally know the truth in the matter of his love stories, addictions, deepest tribulations and, obviously, child abuses he more than once charged in his own songs (who will forget the harrowing Disarm?). Definitively, a rough sketch of a spiritual will we hope to receive in a long long time: the later it is, the better will be. Meanwhile, let’s wait for these Chronicles of Melancholy, wishing to find them as divine as Blinking with fists, full of intense feelings, vivid images, pastel colors and magic of course, as we know our king can do, with a pen and a blank sheet in his charming hands.

by Silvana Soffia

Related Images: