Despite a fairly extensive promotional campaign, and a lifelong love of the Smashing Pumpkins, I’ve managed (with difficulty) to keep my head in the sand and avoid hearing anything in advance of the release. While this might seem unusually restrained, it’s more to do with the fact that Smashing Pumpkins singles rarely represent the breadth and scope of the album they are designed to promote and, rather than get a false impression of CYR, a double album that comes close to rivalling Machina in length, it seemed it would be an album better experienced from start to end. Certainly long-time Pumpkins fans will recognise that Billy’s genius lies as much in his ability to sequence albums as an epic journey as it does in individual songs, and if this might see to fly in the face of received streaming-world wisdom, Billy has always been at his best when indulging in a grand gesture…
And CYR is indeed a grand gesture. Nominally a sequel to Oh So Shiny… it picks up where that album left off and then runs into the aether, exploring the electronic influences of Adore and building a beautiful web of gossamer fine pop melodies in the process. As a collection of tracks, there are numerous standouts, but as an album it truly hits its stride, each piece flowing from that which preceded it. It might not be the album that Smashing Pumpkins fans wanted (especially those who crave the return of Billy the guitar god), but in these dark times, it turns out it is the album we needed.
The first side of the gorgeous vinyl edition opens very much where its predecessor left off, with the driven prog-pop of The Colour Of Love. Beautifully produced with a future-retro sheen reminiscent of New Order and the Pumpkins’ own Adore, it’s a keyboard-heavy piece, layered with backing vocals and lovelorn ambience. Things get weirder with the mid-paced and trippy Confessions Of A Dopamine Addict, which sees Jimmy’s drums heavily processed and guitars traded in for arpeggiated synths. The influences of Krautrock are overt here, while the ghost of Depeche Mode (last summoned by the Pumpkins on Adore) rattles its chains on the pulsing title track – arguably one of the most addictive tracks to which Billy has put his name in years. In contrast, Dulcet In E allows more organic instrumentation into the mix, with an acoustic slipping into place amidst the shimmering synths. The first side then spins to a halt with the misleadingly titled Wrath, another track that harks back to the early days of Depeche Mode’s career, with the lush vocals of Katie Cole and Sierra Swan very much to fore and Billy singing better than ever.
Side two opens with a tougher track, Ramona, built around a sanguine bass line and allowing some of the languid guitar of Adore to enter the mix once more. Better still is the fuzzy Anno Satana, a track that could easily have been on Oh So Shiny or even Machina with its crystalline groove. A track that you could easily imagine exploding in the live environment, it’s a perfect example of the way in which Billy crafts material that can take on a completely different aspect depending on his mood at the time. Jimmy’s stately beat sits at the heart of the stately Birch Grove, which proves to be a hypnotic diversion towards the taut rock of Wyttch. With hulking guitars only barely kept in check, Wyttch pulls a similar trick to Marchin’ On from the last album, emerging to pummel the listener before slipping away into the aether, unseen until it strikes again. In contrast, Starcraft proves to be a wistful rumination on the aging process (“we want just one more life”), set to an elegiac pop-backing that comfortably sits alongside classics such as 1979.
Side three opens with Purple Blood, a mellifluous piece that juxtaposes pastoral beauty with a gruelling bassline that seems to detonate at the heart of the track. Arpeggiated synths rule the roost on Save Your Tears, yet for all the synth elements on display, it’s another track that could just as easily tilt in a rock direction in the live arena, and the swooning vocals are classic Pumpkins in excelsis. Newer tricks are in evidence on Telegenix, which pairs a metronomic beat with dubstep bass lines to powerful effect. Jimmy drives the anthemic Black Forest, Black Hills with a tribal beat, although the aptly-titled Adrennalynne (Billy’s fondness for wordplay remains undimmed) is the highlight of the side, its stepped synths and pulsing beat strangely reminiscent of DMX Krew (as remixed by Aphex Twin)
Side four opens with the skittering Haunted, a suitably skeletal piece of music that builds beautifully. It gives way to the breathy pop of The Hidden Sun and the Krautrock of Schaudenfreud, a track that draws so widely from the synth-pop universe that it sounds strangely timeless as a result. Arguably the album’s strangest track, the short Tyger, Tyger genuinely sounds like a musical offcut from a hip hop album repurposed as a gorgeous pop number, only for Minerva to bring both the side, and the album, to a satisfying close.
At one hour and twenty minutes in length, you’d imagine that CYR would drag but, with Billy writing at his very best, this unashamedly pop-infused album seems to fly past. Much has been made of the futuristic approach, but it’s rather future-retro, with canny use of analogue synthesisers neatly combining with traditional instruments and a sumptuous production job. As such, the closest reference points are Depeche Mode (a band for whom Billy has long had an affinity), Talking Heads, New Order and Joy Division. Meanwhile, whilst those seeking a fix of blistering guitars will be disappointed, it’s clear that number of the tracks here have bene deftly rendered subservient to the production, allowing for a more rock-oriented interpretation on the live stage. An unexpected delight, CYR sees a reinvigorating Pumpkins exploring the boundaries of their influences with remarkable aplomb and the results are frequently blissful. 9/10
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