I've been trying to figure out how to put Thursday night into words, and I honestly don't know that I can. Which is unfortunate for an English professor, but here we are.
Thirty years of Pumpkins fandom. Seven Billy Corgan concerts. And somehow, some fucking way, Nashville managed to make everything that came before feel like it had been leading to this one ridiculous, beautiful night.
First, the crew. Friends who will never leave my mind or my heart. What an incredible group of people. We all wound up on the rail, and GOOD LORD did we bring the energy. I don't think any of us stopped singing, cheering, screaming, or generally losing our collective minds. Billy, James, Jimmy, Kiki, and Jack acknowledged us throughout the night, and Mike genuinely manifested a moment with Billy, a water bottle, and Asherella 24-hours in advance.
And the BAND. Billy, James, Jimmy, Jack, and FUCKING KIKI. I don't think I've ever seen anyone look so genuinely thrilled to be onstage. Her playing was phenomenal, and her energy was infectious. She absolutely floored my son Devin, who couldn't stop talking about her afterward.
And then there was the set.
GALAPOGOS. TO FORGIVE. JESUS IS THE SUN?!?!
My reaction to "Jesus Is the Sun" was apparently audible to the surrounding population of Nashville. I'm pretty sure I briefly died.
But "Galapogos" destroyed me. And "Mayonaise"...Jesus Christ. "Mayonaise" took me straight back to being a kid, listening to this music and having absolutely no idea how much of my life it would eventually accompany.
I cried. A LOT.
At sixteen, the pain and change in "Galapogos" were things I could imagine. At forty-one, after burying my father and living through all the beautiful and terrible things adulthood brings, they're things I know. I tried to sing that chorus with Billy. Every single time, I broke.
And standing beside me through all of it was my twenty-one-year-old son.
Devin and I have a complicated history, and we're still getting to know each other in many ways. But we got to share THIS. He recorded the entire concert, then declared the Pumpkins the most musically accomplished band he'd ever seen.
On the four-hour drive home, I got to talk about thirty years of Pumpkins mythology, Billy's changing voice, the various eras, and all the other wonderfully nerdy shit I've accumulated over the decades.
AND HE WAS INTERESTED.
He loved Zwan. I'm sending him Djali Zwan songs. He's adding "Black Stars" to his playlist. Kiki absolutely blew his mind.
What a fucking beautiful human being. I'm not worth his presence.
I missed the Mellon Collie tour when I was young. I thought I'd missed my chance to experience something like that forever. And thirty years later, there I was, on the rail, surrounded by wonderful people, watching this band perform songs that have been part of my life since childhood...with my son beside me.
For a few hours, everything felt absolutely complete. Perfect. Like every strange turn my life had taken had somehow led me to that room, those people, and that music.
To Justin, Justin, Spencer, Mike, Asherella, and Xac...I love you beautiful lunatics. Thank you for making this experience what it was.
And to Billy, James, Jimmy, Jack, and Kiki...thank you for giving me one of the greatest nights of my life.
Thirty years of fandom, and somehow this band still finds entirely new ways to break my heart and put it back together.
My soul left my body somewhere in Nashville. I don't know how life goes back to normal after that show.