Nine Black Poppies

Are, actually. The couple of songs that have come out on the Teargarden project are just so... I dunno. They're not terrible enough to be really dismissive of--they're actually kind of passable--it's just next to things from 1988-1998, they sound so... limp. Like you just want to pat Billy on his giant bald head and say "Aww, there there." It's sort of depressing.

Not that I won't listen to the whole thing as it comes out, or anything else Corgan does. I have a similar relationship to Siamese Dream (first album I ever got, musical awakening, all that), so it's almost like I kind of have to.

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Like carnivores to carnal pleasures, so were we to desperate measures...