The Smashing Pumpkins in Manila 2025 – The Pop Blog

I’ve been a fan of The Smashing Pumpkins since I was a kid. As a bubblegum-pop loving child, I’ll admit I was initially afraid of Billy Corgan, especially when he began sporting that pale, bald look. However, I was simultaneously drawn to the colorful, whimsical chaos of their music videos in the early-to-mid ’90s, like “Today,” “Tonight, Tonight” and “1979.” It was this strange push-pull: I’d be afraid of Corgan while also nursing a little girl crush on James Iha, the quiet one (band members like him had always been my type).

My relationship with Smashing Pumpkins solidified in high school. While I bounced between genres month to month, I kept coming back to the Pumpkins, and their music has stuck with me ever since. I didn’t make it to their 2013 concert in Manila (maybe perhaps ‘coz James wasn’t around, and I didn’t have budget), but the desire to see them peaked 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, whimsical guitars. Traveling by bus to the magical Shirakawa-go with tracks like “The Boy,” “Take Me Down,” “Said Sadly,” “Today,” “Drown,” “Mayonaise,” “Disarm,” and “Believe,” I made a vow: I would absolutely watch their next concert, no matter what.

Manifestation Achieved

Fast forward just two weeks after that trip, and Smashing Pumkins announced their Asian tour. I was ecstatic; it felt like a direct result of my manifestation. I had expected an Asian leg much sooner, perhaps 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 friends to join, but my solo path was set early: two cancelled, 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 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 PULP had everything under control, with booths set up and the venue ready.

I flew from Davao just for this. Given the considerable expense of the airfare, hotel, and food, I regretted that I only opted to get the third-tier ticket, though it was still worth every cent to be there. I arrived alone, which isn’t foreign to me—I’ve been going to concerts solo since 2013, often for indie bands my friends haven’t heard of. My look was understated, almost athleisure, save for a blue tye-died long-sleeved tee that served as my subtle uniform among the sea of black shirts.

The Overwhelming Moment

My seat on the left side, instantly regretting not a ticket on the right, which was James Iha’s side. Nevertheless, when the band took the stage, I was overwhelmed. Seeing them, finally manifesting one of my most favorite bands, was too much. Tears welled up and left my eyes, just as they had during my most intense listening moments.

Though I was alone, I felt a profound sense of home and company when I realized the men sitting directly behind me were speaking Bisaya. It was a familiar, comforting sound. Hearing their loud 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 wasn’t just there alone; I truly felt like I had company, imagining them crying and singing along with me.

The two-hour concert was marvelous . They played most of the crowd favorites, including “Mayonaise.” Yet, even with its extensive setlist, it still felt a little bitin (incomplete) to me. I was truly waiting for James Iha to sing one of his own tracks, like “The Boy” or “Take Me Down,” especially after Billy told him he “owes the people.” I wish I had been close enough to the front to clamor for it. I was also sad they didn’t include “Drown,” which is arguably my favorite, as I really do love their lighter, ethereal, and whimsical side that often transcends into shoegaze, phaser-dreamlike chaos. There’s some sort of vulnerability as their lighter sound juxtaposes into stronger 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 in the midst of one of their most popular album “Mellon Collie and and the Infinite Sadness,” 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 know I can manifest seeing them again. Maybe next time, James Iha can serenade me.

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