There’s something awesome about a rock band hitting its stride and creating music in its peak of relevance. I feel like that time often comes in the ten years after a band’s first album is officially released, and perhaps around the 3rd or 4th studio album. Albums like Joshua Tree by U2, Master of Puppets by Metallica, OK Computer by Radiohead, Synchronicity by The Police, Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd, or Destroyer by Kiss. These were albums made by bands when they were hitting their global stride. They were on top of the world, influencing the trajectory of their particular sub-genre of rock music, and in some cases influencing rock music as a whole. It’s extremely rare for a band that stays together long after these critical times to continue to be as relevant, to continue to influence the direction of new musical trends, or to continue to broaden their fan bases. But depending on how successful a band is in the early years, they can and often do continue to make solid records for loyal fanbases for a very long time.
Six or seven years ago, I started to become increasingly overwhelmed by the vast amount of music available to me at the click of a mouse through digital delivery services. I was getting turned on to new music every day but found myself staying on a very thin surface with these artists. I didn’t know the names of the band members, barely remembered the album and song titles, and felt very little connection to what I was hearing. Within days, I’d be off to the next new thing. A couple of years later, I made a conscious effort to strip my iTunes library down to only music that had truly moved me at some point in my life (that’s a story for another post). I was left with about forty artists and spent a few weeks simply enjoying this limited catalog of music that I truly loved.
I hadn’t spent a lot of time listening to some of those bands for quite a while, and I became curious about what they had created later in their careers after their mainstream relevance had faded away. I decided that if an artist had meant enough for me to make the iTunes cut, their newer work deserved at least a few spins on Spotify, after all, it was risk-free. So I made it a mission to go deep with a few artists that had meant something to me at one time or another, rather than go wide with a lot of different artists that I barely knew. Since then I have not only learned to respect the full breadth of a musician’s work even if all of it isn’t perfect, I’ve actually come to love some of the more recent, and more obscure albums by some of my all-time favorite bands. Here are three examples of albums that I truly do love that were released (arguably) past each of these band’s prime.
Smashing Pumpkins – Oceania
Smashing Pumpkins are without a doubt my favorite band of all time, which gets a little complicated when you know their history. In reality, I should say that Billy Corgan is my favorite musician of all-time. The Pumpkins and Billy undoubtedly couldn’t have developed in the same way without the original Pumpkins band members, particularly drummer Jimmy Chamberlain, but by Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness (1996), Billy had definitely matured as a songwriter and musician. Every album to follow, whether they are called Smashing Pumpkins, Zwan, or Billy Corgan, was really Billy Corgan albums, with different configurations of backing musicians.
Oceania by Smashing Pumpkins was released in 2012 but it didn’t come across my radar until the iTunes purge a few years later. It was part of an abandoned concept project called Teargarden by Kaleidyscope, and it’s a complete departure from the old band, with only guitarist Jeff Schroeder being a longtime “regular”. He’s been an active member of the band from 2007 to present day.
When I first took this album for a spin I was blown away by the power of the first two tracks “Quasar” and “Panopticon”. The album quickly balances out with serious pop-rock hooks in tracks like “Violet Rays” and “My Love Is Winter”. By this time in my life, I wasn’t loyal to particular band members so I just listened objectively and realized that it’s Corgan’s songwriting that drew me to the Pumpkins over the years. There’s just something about the way he constructs a rock song that resonates with me. And by Oceania, he seemed to have really matured as a vocalist, arguably his weakest trait in the early years. I found and still find the whole album to be incredibly solid and very listenable.
Jane’s Addiction – The Great Escape Artist
Jane’s Addiction busted down a lot of doors for a lot of bands, more than they will ever get credit for. They reconciled the power and energy of metal with the edge and darkness of post-punk at a most critical time, 1988. The release of Nothing’s Shocking brought together two of the most prevalent subcultures in rock music at that time and helped launch what became known as “alternative” into the mainstream. After 1990’s Ritual de lo Habitual, and lead singer Perry Farrell’s 1991 social experiment festival tour, Lollapalooza, the band was heading straight to the top of the rock world. Perry was named 1991 artist of the year in Spin Magazine, the same year Jane’s officially broke up, until they didn’t.
In 1997, after Perry Farrell and drummer Stephen Perkins released a couple of albums with Porno For Pyros, the two reunited with guitarist Dave Navarro, and reformed Jane’s Addiction without bassist Eric Avery. The only release from that era was Kettle Whistle, which had a couple of new songs recorded with Flea (Red Hot Chili Peppers) on bass, but the album was mostly a compilation of old demos and live tracks.
Jane’s Addiction continues to reunite periodically to tour or record between other projects. With bassist Chris Chaney, they went on to record two more studio albums, Strays (2003) and The Great Escape Artist (2011). When I first heard both of these albums sometime around 2015, I felt like something was missing, but there was enough substance to keep them on my radar. I have since realized how critical Eric Avery was to the first three Jane’s Addiction albums. It’s his post-punk bass lines, influenced by the likes of Peter Hook (New Order), that was required to complete that original sound. Without Avery, Jane’s Addiction is a rock band. I learned to let go of the expectation of the darkness that Avery brought to the early songs and discovered that the sans-Avery Jane’s isn’t just a rock band, they’re a really fucking great rock band. And while I could equally include Strays and The Great Escape Artist in this post, I have found that I seem to go back to the latter more frequently, especially the second track “End To the Lies”.
The Cure – Bloodflowers
Since 1989, The Cure has held either my top band spot or a very very strong second. Like the Smashing Pumpkins, though, it’s really about the leader of the band, Robert Smith. While the public narrative is that the various configurations of the band (and there have been a ton over the past 40 years) are very collaborative during the album making process, it’s clear that Robert has always owned the vision.
While this band is stereotypically known as a morbidly moody OG goth band from the 80s, or possibly a new wave one-hit wonder with 1987’s “Just Like Heaven”, neither could be farther from the truth. The truth is that Robert Smith has done it all, and The Cure spans an incredibly wide spectrum of styles, genres, and influences. I’ve been drawn mostly to the doom-and-gloom Cure, most notably when they were arguably at their peak of relevance in 1989 with Disintegration. So after a much glossier Wish (1992) and the moderately happy and very poppy Wild Mood Swings (1996), I was ready for some serious sorrow when Bloodflowers was released in 2000.
Of the three albums in this post, Bloodflowers was the only that I sought out at its release. The name was promising, and by the epic eleven-minute second track “Watching Me Fall”, I was sold. My Cure was back. Bloodflowers quickly became one of my favorites from the catalog, and to this day it’s very rare that I would pass up an opportunity to listen to that album. While the sounds were definitely fresh for the time, there’s plenty of classic Cure mood and atmosphere mixed in, particularly on the last two songs, “The Loudest Sound” and “39”, that both clock in at over seven minutes each.
If you have a favorite band that was peaking during your formative years I encourage you to buck the trends and check out everything they’ve done since. Respect the work of the artist, even when the record companies have dismissed them, and the court of public opinion returns a verdict of “washed up”. There are no guarantees, but you might be surprised at what you find.