Q&A: Seeking grace, Billy Corgan becomes Mr. Nice Guy

The last time The Smashing Pumpkins' Billy Corgan was on "The Howard Stern Show," he delivered what the shock jock was looking for: unvarnished answers to his questions.

By the time Corgan left the SiriusXM studios in New York studio on that 2014 morning, he had criticized some of rock's biggest acts, including Pearl Jam ("I don't think they have the songs") and Foo Fighters ("They just haven't evolved").

Throughout his career, which includes 30 million Smashing Pumpkins albums sold, Corgan has famously reveled in the role of contrarian, sometimes leading to public feuds with other musicians, former bandmates and many more.

But ahead of the Friday release of his new Rick Rubin-produced solo acoustic album "Ogilala," which was recorded under his given name William Patrick Corgan, Corgan says all that has changed.

He will no longer speak ill of others, he tells The News Journal in a recent interview previewing his concert at The Grand (818 N. Market St.) Wednesday, Oct. 18, at 8. (Tickets, $45-$59.50, are still available.)

STORY: Laurel military mom's haunted house raises money for troops

STORY: After 23 years, Dogfish Head's Punkin Ale finally gets six-packs

STORY: 21 fall and pumpkin beers from Delaware breweries

"I see myself being that honest as a lack of grace, honestly. I made my own commitment not to talk about anyone personally unless I'm going to praise them," says Corgan, who turned 50 in March. "I just think that's a better policy. It makes for good fodder, but it doesn't necessarily make for a good life." 

In our talk, Corgan chats about his new album and tour, freaking out fans with his voice and why he now also avoids talking politics. 

Q: I assume you've never played in Delaware before?

A: I feel like I have, but it's a bit blurry. Sometimes I'll swear I haven't played somewhere and someone will tell me I played some club in, like, 1992. It's a bit of a walk every time you go through the memories.

Q: When we got word of this show, I looked at the eight cities where you're doing these 14 shows: Los Angeles, San Francisco, Brooklyn, Chicago, Toronto, Nashville, Boulder and Wilmington. Delaware obviously stands out. Do you have any idea how we ended up in there?

A: There were actually a lot of proposed dates that I ended up turning down. But sometimes it's routing. Sometimes it's a historic district with a beautiful theater. 

Q: We have a nice opera house that you'll be performing in.

A: I'm always a fan of going places that aren't on the normal map. Sometimes those are the best shows because people aren't so jaded by a lot of live music coming to the marketplace.

Q: Have you begun to craft how these shows will be set up? Do you know what fans should expect or is that still a work in progress?

A: I basically have two sets put together. The first will be the same every night and the second will be different every night in terms of what I play from the past. I've tried to put together songs from every era and that's been an interesting challenge. It's one thing to say, "Oh, I feel this period of my life is overlooked." It's another to go find the song that sort of makes your case. It's a challenge, but I'm enjoying the challenge.  

Q: And you also have to find songs that will fit solo. Is it just going to be you, guitar and piano?

A: Yeah. And you're right -- trying to find those songs as an acoustic solo performer is a challenge, too. I've played this way a little bit before, but you're talking about a 2-hour show with two sets. And I'm not a big fan at this point of trying to yak my way through the uncomfortable moments. I always respected that about Bob Dylan. He would pick his lane and do what he was going to do, outside of that tour where he converted. I try to let the music do the talking these days and that seems like a good strategy. I used to get uncomfortable and think, "Oh, this isn't going to work, so I need to set this song up with a story." But in an acoustic setting that invites -- it's like if you talk, they talk more. But if you can create a mood that's spellbinding and people really enjoy it, then that's going to be more like going to a movie emotionally.

Q: In the past, your solo shows were sometimes all covers. Will there be a cover or two sneaking in for this tour as well?

A: Yeah. Last time I was out, we were doing an acoustic version of [David Bowie's] "Space Oddity," which was really beautiful. I have a few things planned. I have no problem playing covers.

Q: So let's get this question out of the way since I'm sure you're sick of it already: Why did you want to differentiate this album by using your full name, William Patrick Corgan?

A: Kind of a funny thing happened. A few years ago, as I approached 50, I started asking friends and family to start calling me by my real name. Billy just felt kind of alien to me at some point. It wasn't a big deal and it isn't a big deal. When that started translating out to the public part of my life, it turned into this weird, like, I was turning up my nose or something. Like this weird arrogant thing. It's very strange to me — we live in a click-bait society, so I'm not complaining — but it's a little weird to have people coming after you for using your real name. It's kind of strange. Billy is my name. And William is my name, too. So at some point it became almost like a joke — like, I'm just gonna kind of go with this because it seems to irritate people. And I see even doing it on the record is still causing this weird confusion. On a scale of one to 10 with me it's about a two. But it's been treated by a lot of people as a bigger deal and it's totally not a big deal.

Q: From what I understand, you pretty much surrendered these songs to Rick Rubin and let him take charge of the sound? That is quite an unfamiliar position for you when it comes to your stuff. Was it like a trust fall?

A: No, no. I know Rick. We're friends and his pedigree speaks for itself. He's done a great job through the years of finding clarity where maybe others couldn't, including the artists themselves. It's weird. When you're younger and you have a very particular vision, which I did, you fight really hard to implement that vision and if it works, then you think, "I know what I'm doing." That isn't necessarily true. So it's a little bit of a weird process to wake up one day and think, "I don't have the ability to judge how what I'm doing is going to be received by another." I'm so in my experience of my own music that maybe I lost a little bit of the common touch. It's about clarity of message. And Rick is really, really good at that. He can really get to the heart of the matter on a tune. If he told me he wanted to use drums and stuff, I would have been fine with that. But he wanted it simple. He was attracted to it simple. That clarity surprised me. Maybe if it was someone else, I would have second-guessed it. But I never looked back with Rick.

Q: One of the things that makes me a fan of yours is your outspokenness. A few years back you were on Stern and answered his questions honestly leading to headlines like, "Billy Corgan Disses Pearl Jam, Foo Fighters On Howard Stern." We never get to hear what happens after you leave the studio. Are you getting texts from people angry at you? Are your publicists freaking out?

A: Nobody says anything to me. In fact, I just saw [Pearl Jam frontman] Eddie Vedder a couple of weeks ago at a Roger Waters concert and he said hello and we caught up. So, it's not as bad as it necessarily plays out in public, but knowing it plays bad makes me not want to do it. I don't want to be part of the negative culture. I don't want to be part of that anymore, so I'm not going to be that guy.

Q: You also don't shy away from politics even if your views don't jibe with what you think your audience might believe. You've been a guest with Alex Jones on Infowars just like Donald Trump has before being elected president. What's your take on his first nine months in office?

A: Same answer. You can't talk about this stuff in our culture because there's no nuance. For example, I said something about Trump at the very beginning of the cycle -- I liked that he was disrupting the normal arc of the political process -- and that turned into an endorsement. I never endorsed Mr. Trump. It's frustrating because as a citizen -- not as a celebrity, but a citizen -- I think we need to have nuanced discussions. But we can't. We don't live in that culture. Hopefully that will change, but it's not going to change any time soon. We have a social media that's weaponized toward negativity.

Q: Was there one incident that led you to take this more graceful turn in terms of not getting into this stuff? 

A: No, you reach a point in your life and think, "What kind of person do I want to be?" I just want to live in an intelligent, nuanced culture and country that can have very uncomfortable conversations without the threat of violence and intimidation -- and that's both sides of the political spectrum. I want to see the rhetoric turned down and see people move towards a centrist, libertarian conversation that involves free speech and human rights. I'm happy to have that conversation all day long, but I don't want to be cannon fodder for a culture war that doesn't really care about my accomplishment or pedigree. Once you start seeing yourself used like that, forget it. I'm just not interested.

Q: I know you didn't have an easy childhood. I was curious: When you were older, in high school, what kind of a kid were you? I think most would assume you were an outsider, but then I read you were an honor student and athlete. Did you feel like you fit in?

A: No. I was miserable. I had a good peer group, even if they didn't understand when I would go on about [German philosopher Friedrich] Nietzsche or The Doors. [Laughs.] But I wasn't a misanthropic character. I've always been a social being and make friends easily -- and repel people easily because I'm opinionated. People who are intelligent, tend to be attracted to intelligence. People who want to score cultural points even at the high school level, it becomes about you being a polemic figure because you're not willing to fit into a group. When I played basketball, I was the guy with the hair down his back. I didn't fit into any particular culture, but that turned out to be emblematic of the world I was going into with music. I've never fit into any musical sphere. I've been lumped in quite readily and quite unfortunately, but to this day people still don't know what box to put me in and I've been doing this for 30 years. America is hell-bent on destroying the individual. I don't know why that is. But if you can survive the gauntlet of people trying to cripple your individuality and come out the other side, you almost get rewarded for it.

Q: I asked about your childhood because "Siamese Dream" came out the summer my folks uprooted me from Long Island to Rhode Island. I was in high school and it was the first time I ever felt isolated and I found your music and a lot of that early '90s alternative rock really spoke to me. How often do you hear stories like that?

A: Almost every day. And it's touching -- it means to me that there are voices that connect outside the pre-approved script we get every day from the media.

Q: You have such a great, unique voice. But when you're young, as you've mentioned, uniqueness is not sometimes what you want to be or what others want you to be. When you started, what did you and others think of your voice?

A: I hated it. And I got very little positive feedback. Thankfully my band was cool with it. It's not like they patted me on the back and told me I'm a good singer, but they embraced by voice top to bottom -- the way I sang, the lyrics I wrote and the music I wanted to write. And as I've gotten older, I'm really grateful for how supportive they were. I have been critical in ways that, again, were not graceful. But when I really look back, I realize I couldn't have accomplished anything without them. They gave me that vote of confidence that nobody else gave.

Q: When I read Neil Young's book "Waging Heavy Peace," he talked about how no one liked his voice in the early days. It's like your voice -- when you hear it, you know who it is immediately and if you're into it, you love it.

A: Yeah, my dad was a great singer and a musician and he told me, "You can't sing." So, if your own father is telling you that you don't have what it takes, you know. And I love and respect my father. It was very difficult. The breakthrough for me was thinking of my voice as a guitar part. And once I did that, I thought I could orchestrate my voice among the other bunch of noise. I eventually developed whatever that thing is. It's so unconscious at this point that I don't even realize it. I was doing an interview the other day and the guys said my voice is changing, but honestly, it's exactly the same. I just sing different in character. I can sing all those old songs the exact same way -- my voice is totally intact. My voice on the new album is actually the way I sing. It's the least unadorned voice I've ever used.

Q: So you'd feel like you're covering yourself almost if you tried to mimic that voice from your earlier work?

A: It's weird sometimes. I'll do it just to freak fans out. It's like a ghost that shows up.

Contact Ryan Cormier of The News Journal at rcormier@delawareonline.com or (302) 324-2863. Follow him on Facebook (@ryancormier), Twitter (@ryancormier) and Instagram (@ryancormier).

IF YOU GO

Who: William Patrick Corgan

When: Wednesday, Oct. 18, at 8 p.m.

Where: The Grand, 818 N. Market St., Wilmington

Cost: $45-$59.50

Tickets: thegrandwilmington.org