I got home at 1 am Thursday morning knowing I had to wake up in five hours, and the tinnitus roaring in my ears could probably have woken up the neighbors then and there. But I was extremely, utterly, brazenly happy.

I had just seen the Smashing Pumpkins live at the Viper Room. One of the most scarce, long-shot bands that also happened to define half of my generation’s high school, college and post-college experience had played less than 20 feet from me in a venue the size of a large studio apartment. There are a handful of lifetime events I decided long ago were essential in order for me to die happy, and this one just got slammed out of the park.

After making the crowd wait about three hours (except the die-hards who had been posted up outside since 7 am), The Corgan and ensemble trickled up the left side of the crowd and onto the stage, where they started up a feedback frenzy that could best be described as very fucking loud. (This is where the aforementioned tinnitus kicked in.) Corgan wore a thin, dark, long-sleeved shirt reading NATURE, which recalled his trademark ZERO shirt and made everyone feel back home in 1996. His head glistened like a well-polished agate.
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