For my money, even Kurt Cobain and Elliott Smith (and Noel Gallagher?) can eat their hearts out; Billy Corgan was the finest songwriter of the 1990s and a generation. That decade was the golden era of Smashing Pumpkins, with an early period awash with little nuggets of buried developmental treasure, an outtakes compilation stronger than any studio album most acts ever produce, four major albums of which two can be counted as seismic and troves of b-sides worthy of any great record; all in all, a veritable platinum mine. The classic line-up of James Iha (guitar), D’arcy Wretzky (bass) and one of the finest drummers of all time in Jimmy Chamberlin being in tow certainly didn’t hurt the group’s stock and potential.
The stylistic diversity within the alt-rock sphere is perhaps the most striking; after triangulating 60s psychedelic rock with the still-emergent but fast-skyrocketing alternative rock genre on 1991’s “Gish”, all bets were off for the size and structure of a Pumpkins song. This means that in attempting to collect their finest 25 efforts of that decade, all manner of songs are benched, traversing proggy supernovas (“Soma”, “Silverfuck” ), metal-adjacent freakout jams (“The Aeroplane Flies High (Turns Left, Looks Right)”, “X.Y.U.”), electronic radio gems (“Ava Adore”, “Perfect”), tightly wound pop songs (“Bodies”, “Tristessa”), eye-of-the-storm becalmers (“By Starlight”, “Galapagos”), slight but indelible musical poems (“Cupid De Locke”, “Stumbleine”), punk workouts (“Tales Of A Scorched Earth”, “Pissant”) and, perhaps most egregiously, even the sickly-sweet orchestral acrobatics of “Disarm”. Not to max out on spoilers, but you get the picture.
All that said, let’s dive in and rank the absolute cream of a decade’s worth of gob-smacking sonic excellence from the Chicago outfit.
25. “To Forgive”
From “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” (1995)
When “To Forgive” creeps in it sounds like a track in the midst of decay, with a rousing progression wobbling through its chords, primed to crack open and reveal its inner workings at any moment. Even with the support of Chamberlin at the set entering the mix, it hardly becomes any less delicate as it flowers, introducing ornate arrangements to a cut already tracking as one of the most chamber-ready from the Corgan songbook. That pulse-checking pause in the final chorus is a reminder of how organic the process is, even from a band firing out generational anthems like a well-oiled production line at this point in both their career and the “Mellon Collie” album.
24. “Rocket”
From “Siamese Dream” (1993)
It’s another huge entry in the win column as far as the studio martialling of Butch Vig and Billy Corgan on “Siamese Dream” goes, with remarkable use of the boards to construct an imposing barrier of blaring, contorting guitar alarms. It’s a viscous buzz-box, and sounds too good not to submerge oneself in the glorious blur. While what passes for dream pop today, as popular as ever, has morphed over time, Pumpkins tracks like “Rocket” have proved immeasurably seminal, with a glam rock stomp to boot adding significant bolster. The transition of the guitar from verse or bridge to hook is a truly velveteen scheme. Call it textural ecstasy.
23. “Marquis In Spades”
From “The Aeroplane Flies High” (1996) / “Zero” (1996)
Lurking on the “Zero” single and collected on the “The Aeroplane Flies High” bumper boxset, this banger is one of only two cuts from said compilation to make my ranking despite being surrounded by pearls, such is the competition for slots on this list. Sounding superb and ageing as well as any A-lister Pumpkins track of the era, its elastic, bendy chord progressions are nonetheless extra crunchy and speak to a then-young lifetime of Black Sabbath worship. Alongside other amazing discarded tracks of these sessions like “Mouths Of Babes”, the suggestions that “Mellon Collie” could have stretched to a triple album pile up.
22. “La Dolly Vita”
From “Pisces Iscariot” (1994) / “Tristessa” (1990)
The earliest days of the Pumpkins are loaded with tracks orbiting the debut album “Gish” which thrum with promise and potential within the confines of their twee guitar-pop, often incorporating eastern scales on a Beatles-style psychedelic kick. One of the strongest crystallisations of this affectation is “La Dolly Vita”, which landed as a b-side on the “Tristessa” single and helps elevate the 1994 collection “Pisces Iscariot” as possibly the best outtakes album of all-time. For good measure, on its rear it bookends its textured majesty with guitar launch-speed, and with Chamberlin unleashing a percussive stampede at the stool, as per.
21. “Geek U.S.A.”
From “Siamese Dream” (1993)
Any time Jimmy Chamberlin gets his own miniature intro you ought to know what’s coming, but not necessarily that you’re about to have possibly the finest performance of his career dropped on you. With that sort of scaffolding as a backdrop, Corgan rides the same stripe of turbo-charged riff you will hear throughout “Siamese Dream” across multiple movements. Indeed, a strength of the album is cohesion and the way various spins on the overarching idea are presented; clock that reprise of the “Today” melody in the bridge, as chords rotate aflame after a brief and wonderfully mellow interregnum. What follows is a frenetic breakdown which may be the most frenzied moment on this record.
20. “Where Boys Fear To Tread”
From “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” (1995)
The second half of the “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” double album scarcely requires an adrenaline shot unless dwelling in overwhelm after side one, which is far from improbable, but it gets one from this certified earth-churner. You have to love that stuttery stop-start guitar opener like a war machine being cranked to life, before the central riff bulldozes its way through. While “Siamese Dream” is the more celebrated for its production, Flood and Alan Moulder have to take credit for drowning the listener in sound, the way thunderously scuzzy guitar oozes into every nook of the mix once Chamberlin truly hits the zone.
19. “Rhinoceros”
From “Gish” (1991)
The “Gish” album was certainly the work of a band squaring its most bluesy, psychedelic and rocking influences from the back end of the 60s with the big bang of alt-rock then occurring in the American rock mainstream, as no shortage of bands would also do over the years to come, though rarely as superbly. Despite this, the sole “Gish” track to make my list doubles more so as a glimmering precursor to the dream pop fireworks of “Siamese Dream”. “Rhinoceros” still has room for an astounding hook, effortlessly intense drumwork, inch-perfect construction and tone, delicious licks and a searing solo set-piece on the axe. Marvel at it.
18. “Appels + Oranjes”
From “Adore” (1998)
With no disrespect to the still much-loved singles from “Adore” which also register among its finest moments, this for me is the album’s strongest piece and the last outstanding Pumpkins song of the 90s. Its blurry, obscurantist aural churn and the clattering percussion mash up beautifully, while the hook is similarly smeary with a melody to die for. Much of the record indulged very well-earned ambitions which didn’t quite translate under a new sonic template, recorded amid widespread personal tumult, but the highs spoke to a magical flame still flickering and seemed to vocally anticipate Corgan and Chamberlin’s (admittedly sunnier) doomed power pop supergroup Zwan.
17. “Jellybelly”
From “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” (1995)
You can practically scent the smoke as “Jellybelly” drives in, with overdriven guitar chords suggesting short circuit as Chamberlin, incapable of impatience given the fluidity of his drumming which always conjures an illusory spontaneity, sits waiting to pounce. One of the grooviest and most barn-storming grunge riffs in the catalogue unfurls, promising that whatever “Tonight, Tonight” may have promised, “Mellon Collie” is going to pack plenty of hooks and guitar payloads ascending several tens of thousands of feet above ground level, replete with squirms of fretboard-bothering threatening to tear a back-exit out of the mix.
16. “Thirty-Three”
From “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” (1995)
“Mellon Collie” sails off into the distance on a multi-track run of soft-rock and gentle ballads, but none of them touch the slightly earlier vulnerability of “Thirty-Three”, a spindly concoction unsurprisingly characterised by gorgeous Corgan melodies. Conceived around an acoustic strum, it still achieves the requisite power to reach the mountaintops of far more volcanic Pumpkins compositions, while lines like “tomorrow’s just an excuse away” reverberate down the generations. Listeners are liable to peer upon mirrored reflections when they glimpse the track’s surface, but the unquantifiable value of time looms large as a lyrical concept.
15. “Starla”
From “Pisces Iscariot” (1994) / “I Am One” (1992)
This celestial behemoth somehow didn’t make “Gish”, settling in place on certain incarnations of the “I Am One” single and lending plenty of legendary ballast to “Pisces Iscariot”. Bridging something of the gap between the chemically-assisted sonic stargazing of the earliest days and the monolithic shoegazing heard on “Siamese Dream”, especially in structural terms, “Starla” is a critical entry in revealing what a Pumpkins song could be, pairing a delicious, propulsive build-up with a rocking and delightfully destination-free denouement which shoots for the interplanetary and nestles comfortably amongst the satellites. Did I mention that it features one of the finest guitar solos you will ever hear?
14. “Porcelina Of The Vast Oceans”
From “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” (1995)
While we could visit and indeed are visiting countless tracks to study the band’s greatest loud and quiet moments, nothing combines them as jaw-droppingly as this epic. Positioned near the end of the first disc of “Mellon Collie”, challenging as it is to describe anything this entirely towering as being ‘tucked’, it evidences a band who had not in fact abandoned a propensity for Hendrixian structural unpredictability post-“Siamese Dream”. Whether appreciating anything from “Leviathan”-era Mastodon to the funeral doom of Ahab, this track is my supreme reference point for oceanic dynamics and sunshine-in-the-bay melodics.
13. “Hummer”
From “Siamese Dream” (1993)
Compared to the baked-head meandering interspersed with flashes of compositional brilliance on “Gish”, a track like “Hummer” is one of the strongest examples of a new taste for multi-part suites and watertight engineering splattered across “Siamese Dream”. This might sound better than any other track on the record, with shoegaze missiles gliding in from all angles, a by-now-inevitable katzenjammer of a solo and Cogan delivering every line like a refrain. You know there’s magic at work when a lengthy and balmy coda may still be the highlight, even more so than when the DNA of blackgaze luminaries such as Alcest and Deafheaven can be heard fossilised within. It’s a magnificent triumph from a band entering the stratosphere.
12. “Set The Ray To Jerry”
From “The Aeroplane Flies High” (1996) / “1979” (1996)
This cult favourite b-side stands alongside the finest work the band has committed to tape, with the question of how it didn’t make the “Mellon Collie” tracklist being conspiracy-worthy, instead backing up the “1979” single release. Corgan is pared back exquisitely but in brilliantly longing form, against a stirring riff of guitar bubblebath and a slinky bassline foaming with vivacity. Chamberlin, as so often, is the secret weapon, with his more tender treatment still yielding a divine rhythmic force which carries the track into the empyrean. All the finest bands need one of their greatest tunes hidden away for the deep-divers, and this serves that purpose and then some.
11. “1979”
From “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” (1995)
Introducing the gothic digitalisms of 1998’s “Adore” album can’t have been helped by the fact that the band utterly perfected electronicised pop on their first swing at the style with this radio-ready shooting-star from “Mellon Collie”. As a glowing paean to youth and the intangibility which haunts nostalgia, the track thematically reflects the bittersweet crush depth of the jam-packed double-disc set which birthed it, simultaneously cosmic and microcosmic, and does so on the strength of a looping earworm seemingly fed a diet heavy on steroids. For a band harking back to times and influences grown dusty, the track continues to fold in on itself via new listeners and generations as the years and decades pass.
10. “Muzzle”
From “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” (1995)
On “Muzzle”, as on countless of the incredible pop moments intertwined throughout “Mellon Collie”, the guitars burning behind Corgan may be less expressive than elsewhere but are always dialled into a pitch-perfect tone and proximity, while Chamberlin wastes no chance to grasp a scene-stealing fill between his ever-metronomic thumping. Billy reels off a laundry list of some of his most tattoo-worthy lines in a track laced with despair and joy, the horror and electricity of being alive. The fashion in which the instruments hang back for a starting gun to commence both verses so that Corgan’s marquee moments shine brighter speaks to a seminar in songcraft. This one feels incredible to sing along to.
9. “Tonight, Tonight”
From “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” (1995)
Even amongst all of these stupendous songs, the beloved “Tonight, Tonight” seems to stand alone. Tasked with following up the titular instrumental intro to “Mellon Collie”, it properly kick-starts the rollercoaster with enchanting pop penmanship and a 30-piece string-section for an artful declaration of the band’s newfound station. This tune alone justified the ambition, with Corgan in his most poetic mode yet, as a tornado of strings dances wildly and Chamberlin lashes out a marching cacophony. The vocal is angelic alt-rock, a siren-song recruiting new listeners to the legion as surely in 2025 as in 1995. A bona-fide crossover hit with a remarkable accompanying flick, this is peak Pumpkins by so many measures.
8. “Thru The Eyes Of Ruby”
From “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” (1995)
Upon release and ever since, “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” was tagged as a Gen X equivalent of “The Wall”, which arrived sixteen years earlier. Spookily, another sixteen years later Millennials got our generational double-disc when M83’s “Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming” emerged, so we await whatever 2027 serves up from Gen Z. “Thru The Eyes Of Ruby” is the most “The Wall”-esque offering on the record, with magisterial peaks and valleys, vocal histrionics, a hook almost whispered as insanity unfolds around it followed up with a shrieked bonus chorus tacked to a ballistic, grungy riff, and a fleet of false finishes, each of them as pretty as a peach. To think it all started with those lopsided piano keys.
7. “Today”
From “Siamese Dream” (1993)
As the three-minute pop song goes in Billy Corgan’s hands, “Today” is the ultimate document. It is a devastatingly incredible slice of songwriting from its opening chimes, which flutter gleamingly like wings emerging from chrysalis before a raft of guitars take flight. A deeply personal song, Corgan recorded everything but the drums himself, which, like the name counts in this piece, hints towards the true driving forces behind this band. The sugary guitar avalanches, pre-hook air-drumming opportunities and irony-laden lyrics, which juxtapose suicidal ideation with one of the most sonically summery rock songs you’ll ever hear, are all over before you can blink.
6. “Zero”
From “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” (1995)
“Zero” sits firmly as we delve further into a seven-track run early on “Mellon Collie”, all of which I’ve included here, and in many ways has lived on as the signature tune of both the album and band. Corgan is very much in his bag here, with vocals registering between the sexy and the snarling, while a battalion of rhythm guitars achieve carbonated takeoff. Chamberlin thoroughly interrogates every pocket of space he can find, and a squelching, extraterrestrial solo confirms that the more mellifluous pyrotechnics of “Siamese Dream” are in the rearview. The bridge, which is given carte blanche to breathe, is purely theatrical (“God is empty just like me”), and the concision of the whole hair-shredding affair scans as weaponised.
5. “Cherub Rock”
From “Siamese Dream” (1993)
Even for a band clearly growing into their own sense of identity, in opening proceedings on 1993’s “Siamese Dream”, this track wastes no time in announcing an exponential glow-up. With producer Butch Vig in tow to assist, Corgan set about crafting a trademark sound, with string tone and production techniques cribbed from an array spanning Jimi Hendrix through to the still nascent shoegaze genre. Faced with an overdub-heavy wall of guitar ferocity which Gen Z disciples of the widely-resurrected form are still attempting to recapture today, the breath catches repeatedly between the canyon-sized crevices of this arena-friendly meteor, complete with prismatic solo writhing gelatinously like a freshly released kraken. Talk about a mission statement!
4. “Bullet With Butterfly Wings”
From “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” (1995)
If ‘iconic’ has become an overused and abused word, “Bullet With Butterfly Wings” provides a calcified study in the qualities of the term. From its celebrated opening line to Corgan’s screamed variation on the hook after that strummed final pre-chorus, totems are tucked into every inch of the cut. The lyrics bottled the disenfranchised angst of Gen X as finely and cathartically as anyone working in any form ever had, a spirit teeming throughout the “Mellon Collie” album, to say nothing of its glammed-up video debuting that t-shirt, while offering up a final hurrah prior to as potent a pop cultural example as we have of a star seizing control of their hairline.
3. “Here Is No Why”
From “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” (1995)
Possibly my most played Pumpkins track, this one locates the band strapped into chugging lockstep from the outset. Corgan is irresistible, deploying those half-speaky but elongated verse and bridge melodies, while storm-gathering guitars crank up and into a hook positively soaring through hyper-space. There may not be a higher point in the canon as he wails perhaps his finest lyric against stiff competition; “In your sad machines/You’ll forever stay/Burning up in speed/Lost inside the dreams of teen machines”. Gen X doesn’t have a monopoly on alienation, but they were the first to see that the future didn’t look rosy.
2. “Fuck You (An Ode To No One)”
From “Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness” (1995)
This number may strike the optimum balance between the sharply coiled songwriting and the freer-form chaos at either end of the Pumpkins scale. Fueled by some of the most aerodynamic riffage and barrel-bomb chugs across the discography, the track strikes upon genius when it reveals a higher gear and a hook up its silvery sleeve at the approximate halfway point. Dynamic contrast is utilised mercilessly as Corgan takes his self-righteousness into elegiac territory, while Charmberlin’s percussive artillery provides an insurmountable challenge even to anyone strongly versed in superlatives. A-plague-on-all-their-houses collapse has rarely felt as thrilling or life-affirming, and on any given day you may find me caught beneath this landslide.
1. “Mayonaise”
From “Siamese Dream” (1993)
It speaks for itself when a track which begins life as a deep-cut and is never released as a single steadily grows to be a near-ubiquitous favourite in an outstandingly packed inventory. Such is the trajectory of “Mayonaise”, sitting pretty on the second half of “Siamese Dream”. No track as successfully repurposes the cursed dreaming of flowers-in-the-hair Boomers for Gen X, repainting their shimmering guitar vistas and filtering their most cryptic pinings for a better tomorrow through an alt-rock headrush. The whistling feedback arrives courtesy of a faltering guitar, an inimitable accident. The melodic twists and turns, whether through the sparkling introductory riffs or the varicoloured solo, one of my all-time favourites, are the stuff of Stendhal. “No more promise, no more sorrow/No longer will I follow/Can anybody hear me?/I just want to be me”. A yearning plea from one man with a guitar and a headful of hopes, on behalf of a generation, and as it turned out, many generations to come.


















































