Billy Corgan

OK.

Yes.

OK.

OK.

So imagine he's.

Complete working class.

His mother is, you know, addicted to horrible, horrific men.

And he sees this guy he's got no tangential relationship to other than he's growing up in a predominantly black neighborhood and he loves to go across the street and listen to gospel music at the church.

And he sees this guy.

who's from the same sort of class level that he is, but obviously difference between a young white guy and an August black bluesman who's traveled the trails.

But they're meeting in this cultural moment of the 60s where because- Where that melange.

Through the genius of Bill Graham, Bill Graham says to the white kids in San Francisco, you need to listen to this guy.

So here my dad is seeing him on this trail that Bill Graham ignites.

And here is Albert King in Chicago.

My dad for 50 years of my life would talk about when Albert King would hit that string, what it would do to his senses.

It was like somebody trying to describe lightning in a guitar.

So when I'm on stage at the Avalon, and by the way, the Avalon is the first time we ever played me, James and Darcy in a drum machine.

Okay.

Okay.

So I'd been on that stage and I sort of knew that feeling.