The Manila rain poured heavily during midday on September 29, then subsided briefly but continued as a light shower until midnight. Despite the threat, Filipino pumpkinheads continued to brave the fluctuating downpour. We all headed to the Araneta Coliseum to culminate our decades-long relationship with the Smashing Pumpkins — the band that scored my childhood, youth, even my travels and heartbreaks.
I’ve been a fan of The Smashing Pumpkins since I was a kid. As a child who loved bubblegum pop, I’ll admit I was pretty disturbed by Billy Corgan, especially when he began donning the pale, bald look. However, I was drawn to the kaleidoscopic, whimsical chaos of their music videos in the early-to-mid ’90s, like “Today,” “Tonight, Tonight,” “1979,” and getting so curious about “Try, Try, Try.” Amongst the alternative bands of that era, they were the most child-friendly in their melodic and orchestral tracks, despite their distortion-heavy songs. It was a strange push and pull for me: I thought Corgan was scary, but I had a little girl crush on James Iha, the quiet, mysterious one, a crush I never outgrew (band members like him have always been my type)—all while enjoying some of their songs and music videos.
My relationship with the Smashing Pumpkins solidified in high school. While I jumped between different rock genres month to month, I kept returning to the Pumpkins, and their music has stuck with me ever since. I didn’t make it to their 2012 concert in Manila (maybe, perhaps ‘coz James wasn’t around, and I didn’t have a budget), but the desire to see them peaked again during a recent trip to Japan. The soundtrack to my bus and bullet train rides was James Iha’s solo work and the band’s earlier albums, heavy with those signature, dreamy, phaser-heavy guitars. Traveling by bus to the magical Shirakawa-go or by train to Saitama with tracks like “The Boy,” “Take Me Down,” “Galappgos,” “Tonight, Tonight,” “Said Sadly,” “Today,” “Drown,” “Mayonaise,” “Disarm,” and “Believe,” I suddenly felt the urge and wished to see them live. I promised myself then: the next time they came to Asia, I wouldn’t miss them.
Fast forward to two weeks after that trip, and Smashing Pumpkins announced their Asian tour. I was ecstatic; it was like a direct result of my manifestation—a miracle! I had expected an Asian leg much sooner, after Iha rejoined the group in 2018 and the release of the Shiny and Oh So Bright album, but it never happened, and the pandemic also got in the way. But 2025 was finally it!
I immediately called some friends to join, but my solo path was set early (haha—a feng shui expert told me that this year is gonna be a solo year for me): two canceled, and a third friend was more of a Lady Gaga fan than a Pumpkins devotee. Then came the concert day itself. The Manila rain fell hard from morning to afternoon, and I nervously prayed for it to stop, terrified the organizers and Smashing Pumpkins might cancel. I even thought of getting tickets and flying to Bangkok so that I can just see them live. But God answered my prayers. While the rain never entirely ceased, I was relieved that they had everything under control, with booths set up and the venue ready.
I flew from Davao just for this. Given the expense of the airfare, hotel, and food, I regretted that I only opted to get the fourth-tier ticket, though it was still worth every cent. I arrived alone, which isn’t foreign to me—I’ve been going to concerts solo since 2013, especially for indie bands my friends haven’t heard of. I didn’t plan my outfit. My look was understated, almost athleisure (I wore white running shoes and black cotton shorts), except for the blue tye-died long-sleeved tee that served as my subtle rebellion among the sea of black rocker shirts.
The Overwhelming Moment
My seat was on the left side, and I instantly regretted not choosing the right, which was James Iha’s side (I forgot about having to check my favorite band member’s side). Nevertheless, when the band took the stage, I was overwhelmed. Seeing them, finally manifesting one of my favorite bands, was too much. Tears welled up and left my eyes, just as they had during my most intense listening moments. Their songs have become my emotional catalyst to unrequited, delusional love, as well as my existential dread episodes.
Even though I was alone, I felt a sense of home and company when I realized the people sitting behind me were loud, Bisaya men. It was a familiar, comforting sound. I loved that they did their thing without worrying about the Tagalogs in the crowd (they were quite rowdy and even reeked of alcohol). Hearing their boisterous voices felt like I was suddenly surrounded by my own Davao-based “pumpkinhead” friends who couldn’t make it to Manila. In that moment, I felt like I wasn’t just there alone. It was like I had company, imagining my friends crying and singing along with me.
The two-hour concert was marvelous; it was raw and intimate. The crowd roared through fan favorites, including “Cherub Rock,” “Today,” “Bullet with Butterfly Wings,” “Disarm,” “Mayonaise,” and a surprise cover of Berlin’s 80s hit track, “Take My Breath Away.” But even with their extensive setlist, it still felt a little bitin (incomplete) to me. I was waiting for James Iha to sing one or two of his own tracks with the Smashing Pumpkins, like “The Boy” or “Take Me Down,” especially after Billy told him he “owes the audience.” I wish I had been close enough to the front to clamor for it.
It was unfortunate that they didn’t include “Drown,” “Rhinoceros,” “Luna,” “The Boy,” “Believe,” “Take Me Down,” and “Age of Innocence,” which are some of my favorites. I really love their lighter, ethereal, and whimsical side, which often transcends into shoegaze, phaser-dreamlike chaos. There’s some sort of vulnerability in their music as the lighter sound juxtaposes with stronger, heavy metal, distorted overtones.
Despite missing a few personal favorites and the set leaning toward their heavier tracks, I cherished every moment. The Smashing Pumpkins left everyone in tears because their music does more than evoke nostalgia. Even during the release of their most popular albums like “Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness” or “Siamese Dream,” there is an emotional, ethereal, and magical charm that has always defined them. I cried a lot and sang along, never shy about having gone alone.
As I write this, I’m still emotionally overwhelmed, listening to Smashing Pumpkins’ every album from start to finish. Each favorite song becomes an escape from my mundane work tasks, causing waves of feelings to resurface. I never imagined that, out of all the shows I’ve attended in the past twelve years, the Smashing Pumpkins would impact me the most. The feelings linger, perhaps because nostalgia has plagued me — every memory, every vision, and the vibrant colors of my summers from 1993 to 1999 during my carefree childhood days have come rushing back.
Three decades on, the Smashing Pumpkins’ music stays infinite—heavy but fragile, tethering memory. I don’t know how many days this melancholy will continue to haunt me, but I believe I can manifest seeing the band again, and maybe next time, James Iha will finally serenade us — or me.
The Smashing Pumpkins Live in Manila Setlist – September 29, 2025
- Glass’ Theme
- Heavy Metal Machine
- Bullet With Butterfly Wings
- Today
- 1979
- Pentagrams
- Edin
- Take My Breath Away
- Mayonaise
- Disarm
- Tonight, Tonight
- Cherub Rock
- Sighommi
- Bodies
- Porcelina of the Vast Oceans
- Jellybelly
- 999
- Ava Adore
- Stand Inside Your Love
- Zero
- The Everlasting Gaze
NeP-C Ledesma is a millennial writer and entrepreneur full of curiosity about our abstract world. She devours Psychology, food, Philosophy, and prefer cats as her all-time company. Pop Culture is her kryptonite.