Smashing Pumpkins – Gish [Deluxe Edition] /Siamese Dream [Deluxe Edition]

If end-of-the century Pumpkins were a group that had become bloated by theatricality, then the exploits of the band (and Corgan in particular) post-reformation have been pure soap opera. Suddenly the man who had once proclaimed to be "fighting the good fight against the Britneys of the world" was stepping out with the likes of Tila Tequila and Jessica Simpson; his online slanging matches with an increasingly unhinged Courtney Love started to resemble a badly written Hollyoaks script; and under increasing criticism from disgruntled fans, Corgan himself took shelter under a particularly unconvincing façade of aggressively spiritual positivity and new age philosophy – a move that later backfired when it emerged that Jimmy Chamberlin's exit from the band may have been expedited after Corgan introduced him to a mystical life-coach by the name of Shaman Durek.

And then he started his own wrestling promotion.

Of course, none of that bullshit would matter if he was still producing great music, but the fact is that the recurring theme of the Pumpkins' musical output over the last couple of years has been good (occasionally great) songs played out live and then subsequently murdered by amateurish engineering and bad production choices once the band hit the studio. It was no great surprise then that when the announcement came that both Gish and Siamese Dream were to be remastered, the reaction of many fans was something along the lines of "this man has to be stopped." This is, after all, the same guy who proudly coined the phrase 'loud at any volume' to describe his 2003 album under the Zwan name.

The good news is that far from being the fiasco that many anticipated, these reissues are actually pretty great. Siamese Dream has long been held as the high-water mark for rock production and, despite the remaster being handled by Bob Ludwig (the same guy who brickwalled the fuck out of Nirvana's recent Nevermind reissue) there's only a negligible sacrifice in dynamic range for the sake of volume, whilst frequency-wise the recording has been tweaked to sound slightly brighter than the original. Bolder strokes have been deployed with the Gish remaster which is noticeably punchier, with increased presence particularly on bass and drums.

Musically speaking, this stuff is peerless. Twenty years on and Gish has retained all of its charm and power. Ostensibly the sound of a naïve misfit from the Chicago suburbs finding a kind of transcendence through rock music, it manages to sound like both a muscular, visceral document of youth and a heady, sonic exploration of the possibilities of otherness. And whilst it occasionally feels like Corgan is still finding his feet lyrically, tracks like Siva and Tristessa show that the band had already assimilated their classic psychedelic and metal influences to the point where they were able to articulate a unique individual vision with complete clarity.

And so to Siamese Dream: from the opening drum roll of Cherub Rock onward there are no wasted gestures; no false steps – just a succession of staggeringly brilliant songs, each one rendered with real feeling and supernatural finesse. It's probably the best rock record of the 1990s – a portrait of a life in disarray and a band on the verge of self destruction that somehow manages to swaddle its message in some of the dreamiest and most nourishing guitar tones ever committed to tape.

Available as stand-alone CDs/vinyl, as superbly-presented deluxe editions (including new liner notes, unreleased photos, live video footage from the period and a CD of unreleased tracks and rarities) or as audiophile 24-bit/96kHz downloads, it's especially pleasing to see so much care relished upon the catalogue of a band whose reputation has been tarnished so much in recent times.