Photo credit: Michael Marten
As a “stan” of mainstream hip-hop and pop artists like Eminem and Michael Jackson, I was nervous to see The Smashing Pumpkins live at the Scotiabank Saddledome for their sold-out Rat in a Cage tour.
I was not sure if I had the right ear, in terms of recognizing what songs stood out or whether I had the right look, but ultimately learned that yes, there is a particular fashion to The Smashing Pumpkins (dark, sombre, and ominous). However, they are for everyone to enjoy and to erase their own musical biases (what song they preferred over the other).
The Smashing Pumpkins are arguably among the most iconoclastic American bands. The original members were Billy Corgan, or “William Patrick Corgan Jr.”, a guitarist and songwriter; James Iha, a guitarist; D’Arcy, a bassist and Jimmy Chamberlin, a drummer, and they formed the group in Chicago in 1988, creating an amalgamation of progressive rock, grunge and psychedelia, in addition to a subtle flair of goth rock and “dream pop” from the Cocteau Twins. However, Billy Corgan & Co. performed on Nov. 3, 2026.
Photo credit: Michael Marten
The first time The Smashing Pumpkins performed in Calgary was in 1996, demonstrating that their Canadian fanbase has grown exponentially and across generations. I struck up conversations with people from motley demographics: old and young folks, black and white, gay and transgender people and found mutual nostalgia in the experiences of the people I met, especially for my friend who had a tale to tell me. Before the concert, with tears welling in her eyes, my friend fiddled with my finger and spoke generously about a shade of remembrance for a time no longer attainable. The first time she heard “1979” from Mellon Collie and Infinite Sadness (1995), the opening song of the Rat in a Cage tour, was with her dad in kindergarten. It was funny and almost cosmic, because she reminded me that I was included in her road trip down memory lane to 2008; I met her on the same day she discovered The Smashing Pumpkins, and a week later she recalled singing “1979” to me.
“And I don’t even care to shake these zipper blues And we don’t know just where our bones will rest To dust, I guess forgotten and absorbed to the Earth, below,” she had sung in her alto voice, imitating a younger version of herself with hot pink pants and a pixie cut.
We lost contact throughout middle school and high school, fell back into friendship in college, and she ended up inviting me to the concert back in September, replacing a sibling who wanted to go on a trip with me instead. “1979” stood out to us because there was a mutual sense of growing up; it teems with restless nostalgia, teenage alienation and coming-of-age. It is disaffected, yet hypnotic in its continuous guitar loop.
As a new listener to the Chicago band, I was initially intimidated by memorizing all their lyrics in a week. Before I started researching, I was told to go in blind, but we debated, and I persistently advocated that it was morally unjust to attend without at least knowing five songs by heart. I was adamant that a collaborative effort to listen to Mellon Collie and Infinite Sadness (1995) as an adult would make the experience more communal, as Beyoncé claims, “people don’t listen to a body of work anymore.” I would highly recommend the album for adolescence; it has a trajectory produced by “wrathful heaviness” and nihilism.
Nov. 3, 2026 was monumental because of the convivial attitudes associated with the brimful parking lot and train station. Chatter between strangers in the stadium filled the atmosphere with amicable conversations between friends, family and total strangers. Before the concert began, we overheard people placing their claims on their favourite albums and songs, while also reminiscing about who introduced them to The Smashing Pumpkins, where and how old they were and why Billy Corgan, in particular, was deserving of social recognition.
In my section, some people had lighters in place of a phone’s flashlight, and I instantly felt connected to the audience, in addition to the stage lights, which created an alluring attraction and an appropriate ambience for the spectacle in which exquisite lights reigned upon them.
Billy, a tenor, had an outstanding voice that was sonically resonant throughout the performance. His tone emphasized a sense of love and loss, and I felt equally moved to tears as did my friend, and I was dizzy with remembrance for a star-crossed lover who is overseas. The ultimate message that I found throughout the concert was to be unabashed in expression and to meditate on a series of different emotions, as many people align with these frequencies and need an outlet. Overall, I would label the Rat in a Cage tour as one of my favourite experiences, and I would also recommend not letting a safety net of previous musical experiences get in the way of re-learning or learning about The Smashing Pumpkins.