Featured Essay: Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness at 30

by Mike Rastiello

The year was 1995 - I was a freshman in high school, and it was in the middle of what I now call my age of musical awakening.

I was starting at a new school - not just high school, but a new school in a new district where I didn’t know anyone. The hour-long bus ride was spent alone with headphones on, connected at first to a yellow Sony Sports Walkman, then later on, a Discman.

One of the albums that was in the rotation once I got a Discman was Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness by The Smashing Pumpkins. With its two-hour run time, it was a perfect album to bookend the day’s long bus rides - Dawn To Dusk (Disc 1) on the dark and cold morning bus ride, and decompressing from the day on the seemingly longer hour ride home with Twilight To Starlight (Disc 2).

Listening to Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness in 1995, as a 14 or 15-year-old kid, it felt a lot like what life was like for me, and probably many other kids. Feelings of frustration, isolation, and looking for a sense of belonging. Coupled with the pains of growing up, all while trying to figure out who you were and your place in the world, and looking for a better future.

Listening to the album now, I feel a sense of nostalgia, a longing for a simpler time - yet also the rollercoaster of emotions that comes with being a teenager. 

There are a few songs that transport me in time, and one of those songs is 1979. I’m instantly a kid again, and remember all the ridiculous things my friends and I used to do, somehow never getting into any real trouble.

As much as I love 1979, my favorite song from the album, and always will be, is Tonight, Tonight.

“Tonight, Tonight” was the fourth single from the album, and to me, it’s a weird song that got popular. In the mid-90s, when loud grunge and alternative music dominated the rock airwaves, a song emerged with incredibly nasal vocals, a full orchestra, and a video inspired by a turn-of-the-century French silent sci-fi film. Not the typical ingredients for success.

The album begins with the instrumental title track, which sets up “Tonight, Tonight” beautifully. It’s the dawn portion of the Dawn to Dusk side of the album. A new day. Things may not be going well right now, but we have each other, and there’s something to hope for and build on.

We’ll crucify the insincere tonight

We’ll make things right, we’ll feel it all tonight

We’ll find a way to offer up the night

The indescribable moments of your life

The impossible is possible tonight

Believe in me as I believe in you

Thirty years on, and I still can’t get enough of this song. 

Every part of this song is beautiful to me, but the drums are on another level. If you haven’t seen the video of drummer Jimmy Chamberlin playing Tonight, Tonight with the drum sound elevated above the song, I strongly suggest checking it out. The drumming and all of the instrumentation, including the orchestra, is an amazing feat of musicianship, but those drums, man. 

The album has a great legacy. It debuted at number one on the Billboard 200, certified Diamond in the US and nine times Platinum in total across six countries, and Gold in seven other countries by the RIAA, and a GRAMMY for Best Hard Rock Performance with Vocal (Bullet with Butterfly Wings). Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness also appeared on many best of lists at the end of 1995, and it consistently appears on “best albums of all time” lists. Five singles were released from the album (Bullet with Butterfly Wings, 1979, Zero, Tonight, Tonight, and Thirty-Three - songs that were constantly on the radio in the 90s and even today, if you’re lucky enough to live in an area with a rock station.

I’m not the biggest Smashing Pumpkins fan - outside of their first three albums (Gish, Siamese Dream, and Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness), I don’t think I could name one song. Still, the magic of Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness grabbed me 30 years ago and, thankfully, never let go.

Mike has been a lifelong music fanatic since the ripe old age of 4 when he took his parents’ cassette of Billy Joel’s Greatest Hits—Volume I & Volume II and claimed it as his own. Forty years later, Mike remains a moody and opinionated music lover. His favorite bands include Bruce Springsteen, Queens of the Stone Age, The National, and Deftones. Mike lives in Austin, Texas, with his wife Ali, his dog Poppy, and his record collection.

He writes and curates a monthly newsletter and playlist that can be found at www.downbeat.fm. He is @mikerastiello on Bluesky, and his other socials can be found at mike.fail.