Somewhere in the early to middle part of the '90s, depending on whether you prefer Siamese Dream or Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, Smashing Pumpkins frontman Billy Corgan peaked as an artist.
Over the ensuing decade and a half, he has done everything he can to alienate the millions upon millions of people who made him an alt-rock god. His existence to this point can only be described as ridiculous, and I am certain he is self-aware.
Frankly, Billy Corgan was an icon in every sense of the word. Smashing Pumpkins records sold by the millions, his iconic Zero shirt sold almost as well, and he even had a guest spot on The Simpsons.
It's hard to imagine any of this was just a fluke. Every move Corgan made -- from the four months it took to record Siamese Dream to his trademark shaved head -- was fully calculated.
Naturally, it stands to reason that the moves Corgan makes today are just as thought out. Moves like showing up to an awards show last week with Tila Tequila on his arm (other notches on his bedpost include supermodels and Courtney Love) and being a 42-year-old man still called "Billy."
It goes further than that, though. Corgan's body of work, especially over the last few years, suggests not that he is a rock star, but that he is a cartoonish parody of one.
Take for example back in January, when Corgan decided to unveil a new Smashing Pumpkins song in a Super Bowl commercial for Hyundai.
Then there's the band's most recent tour, whose sets featured unapologetically self-indulgent 10-minute improvised jams.
Or what about releasing several versions of the last Pumpkins album with different bonus tracks, so that any completist fan would have to pony up for copies from Best Buy, Target and iTunes, as well as a "deluxe" edition that came out only a few months later? Or what about the fact that the catalyst for the band's reunion was full-page advertisements Corgan took out in the Chicago Tribune and the Chicago Sun-Times?
If that's not enough, Corgan has been quite vocal in his support of music industry villains like Ticketmaster and the Recording Industry Association of America, going to bat in front of legislators on behalf of both.
Hell, the guy released a book of mostly free-verse poetry in 2004. Surprise, surprise: It wasn't that good.
Basically, the jerk store called, and they ran out of Billy Corgan.
Even when he was still being genuine, Billy Corgan was deeply in tune with his rock star predecessors. Musically, he drew from all over, borrowing from goth rock, metal, psychedelia, shoegaze. So it's no surprise that Corgan's off-stage life is a caricature of the archetypal rock star egomaniac.
And because he hasn't shown even a hint of self-awareness -- though it absolutely has to be there somewhere -- it's a genuinely subversive undertaking, not at all like Joaquin Phoenix's telegraphed hoax of a hip-hop career and beyond the capabilities of even someone like Andy Kaufman. No, this is a much more complex, more profound sort of hoodwink.
Sure, Corgan has made and stands to make a lot of money as a direct result of this sort of behavior, which puts it on a level with Tupac faking his death and Scientology masquerading as a real religion.
More interestingly, though, Corgan's life can be viewed as a sort of performance art piece. Artists are supposed to be heretical, and Corgan finds himself at the same as an icon and an iconoclast. His existence, then, serves as a reminder of just how ridiculous superstardom really is.
Billy Corgan is inarguably a superstar, and deservedly so: He's sold millions of records and influenced innumerable musicians. Corgan will likely release more music under the Smashing Pumpkins moniker, and even though he's managed to estrange all of the original members of the band, he still has legions of fans who will buy it up.
As contemptible a person Corgan might be, he's made it, and that's apparently all that matters. In trying to shatter his own image, consciously or otherwise, he's demonstrated just how pervasive and detrimental idolatry really is.
Adam Clair is a senior majoring in journalism and is The Daily Collegian's Tuesday columnist. His e-mail address is asc5014@psu.edu.
