Marking 30 years of Mellon Collie, Chicago’s alt-rock titans Smashing Pumpkins crash into Gunnersbury Park with nostalgia, grit and a few curveballs, proving they can still turn Sunday night into something unforgettable…
Words & photos by Felix Bartlett | August 11, 2025
The sun had only just dipped behind the trees of Gunnersbury Park when the alt-rock crowd, some sipping early-evening beers, others buzzing with excitement, got a crash course in how to warm up an audience. Rocket kicked things off at 3 PM with a burst of garage-rock energy, followed by the moody, gothic anthems of White Lies at 5 PM. London’s own unpeople hit the stage at 3:55 PM with a tense, jagged set that kept everyone on edge in the best way possible. Then came Skunk Anansie at 6:15 PM, with Skin leading the charge, her voice impeccable as always, delivering new bangers mixed with old and as the crowd roared along to Weak and Hedonism, complete with a crowd surf by the legendary punk artist. By the time they left the stage, the park was buzzing and ready for the main event.
And then, at 8:05 PM, the lights went out.
No need for an intro, mate, this is the bloody Smashing Pumpkins. That’s the attitude you might’ve had as Billy Corgan and co. strode onto the stage at Gunnersbury Park as the lights switched back on, diving straight into the deep end with Glass’ Theme and Heavy Metal Machine before casually dropping Today three songs in before announcing tremendously “we are The Smashing Pumpkins”. A ballsy move? Absolutely. But for a band steeped in three decades of history, nostalgia, and an almost mythic legacy, it’s a gamble that pays off. This isn’t a band playing it safe, it’s a band reminding everyone why they mattered in the first place.
Competing with the likes of Korn and Limp Bizkit at previous renditions of the Gunnersbury Park festival in a sort of ’90s alt-rock war, the Pumpkins have always been masters of holding their cards close, and tonight, on the 30th anniversary of Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, they prove they’ve lost none of that calculated intensity. The crowd might have been thinner than those at other festivals this weekend, thanks to the Chocka-block August competition from Bloodstock, Boomtown, and Boardmasters (BBB, the new festival acronym to dread), but those who showed up were here for one thing: The Smashing Pumpkins. And the band delivered.
The sound was impeccable, no surprise there, but the atmosphere was harder to pin down. Standing behind an empty sound tower, it was impossible to ignore that something felt… different. Maybe it was a Sunday crowd energy on the wrong day, or one too many beers sloshed too early. Or maybe, just maybe, the Pumpkins’ audience has shifted from the mosh-hungry faithful to the arm-crossed head-nodders. But whatever the case, one thing was undeniable: the band still hits as hard as they did 30 years ago.
Nostalgia was the night’s unspoken headliner. A tear may or may not have escaped this writer’s eye during Disarm (let’s blame the bevs, eh?), but whether this was a pure nostalgia grab or not didn’t matter. The Pumpkins still have it, that intangible, crushing, beautiful thing that made them legends. From the sprawling Porcelina of the Vast Oceans to the hauntingly gorgeous Berlin cover Take My Breath Away, they balanced grandeur with intimacy, proving there’s something here for both the old guard and a new generation of punks.
Corgan himself was in fine form, wielding nostalgia like a weapon. A well-timed Oasis gag before Tonight, Tonight brought laughs, but the song itself delivered a gut-wrenching reminder: this still hurts just as much as it did in ’95. The band, meanwhile, packed the punch, James Iha’s shimmering guitars, Jimmy Chamberlin’s thunderous drums, all locked in, all still vital.
By the time Cherub Rock, Zero, and The Everlasting Gaze roared to life, any doubts about relevance or crowd energy melted away. The Pumpkins might not be the band they were in ’96, but they’re not trying to be. They’re something else now, still vital, still crushing, still worth every second. And on a weekend where festivals battled for attention, Gunnersbury Park felt like the right place to be. Because sometimes, you just need to be reminded: The Smashing Pumpkins are forever.
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