beloved of postmetal '70s-crazed players. But as he hauls out the Mellotron and strings, he reveals a thirst for the epic, melodic gesture that's often closer in spirit to the Moody Blues than the Stooges. Juxtaposing whisper-thin vocals against his own and the second guitarist James Iha's instrumental blitz is a neat pop maneuver, too. With lyrics about dysfunctional love and "that little child inside of me," Corgan works both the hard and soft sides of blank-generation concerns. Ruthless virtuosos and studio ghouls (it took five months to make Dream), the Pumpkins seem committed to an intriguingly perverse crusade: to prove that less is never more. (RS 672-673)