The Smoking Popes are back – or so I’m told.

I guess you could argue the seminal 90s power-pop act was “back” last August when the announcement came via Web site it would play a reunion show. Or you could argue the actual return was Nov.11 when the quartet took the Metro’s stage for the first public performance in eight years.

Not me. In a case of Doubting Thomas proportions, I had to see to believe it. And to be honest, I’m still not sure how “back” the band is.

I could use the last month’s tour – 15 gigs and counting – as proof of the group’s return, or the subsequent live release that followed the November show. But none of that was enough. Sure, people said the band was in full swing and there is footage to back up the claims, but I had nothing in person.

So what better way than a weekend of homecoming Metro shows to see firsthand that Illinois’ favorite sons of power-pop (sorry Cheap Trick, Shoes) were back in prime form?

The thing is, I didn’t go. I didn’t go because I don’t want the Popes to be “back.”

In fact, there is no band that has broken up that I wish would mount a comeback.

Band members have a certain window of opportunity to combine muses and churn out a quality product. When that window closes and members can no longer make music together, the best acts know it’s time to call it quits.

The Smoking Popes did that – in 1998.

Josh Caterer and his brothers’ window closed, and if ensuing band like Duvall are any indication, their muses have been locked outside for quite some time.

Why would anyone waste their time pining over a folded group? Hundreds of new acts come along each year, and sitting around with fingers crossed hoping your favorites kiss and make up is stupid.

No band has ever broken up and returned better than it was at its final moment. So what you get, in a best case scenerio, is a group not as good as it was when it quit. Why get excited over that?

What ends up happening with moneymaking reunions is one of five things.

First a band can end up like The Who. A once-great act now missing a few original members, the band has somehow toured constantly despite not recording new material since 1982. Every show is billed as a reunion or a farewell depending on whose side of the story you believe. Although there’s no discrepancy – they are all boring, uninspired, overpriced gigs. Bands fitting this bill never quite seem comfortable during the reunion and reek of “in it for the money.”

Next a band can end up like Urge Overkill. Cashing in on nostalgia and the buzz of a new generation discovering its genius, bands that fit this description return with nothing new. Playing to the same size crowds in the same clubs as its heyday, these bands don’t offer fresh material and sound like a flashback to the good old’ days. But what’s the point? The songs sound the same as before, just played by people a decade older.

Thirdly, a reunion band can end up like the Pixies. After the original break, sometimes a band’s reputation grows exponentially. So during the return tour, the group is playing to bigger, louder audiences than ever before. Thus, a band that was used to playing to 1,000 screaming diehards now is the headliner at 20,000-person festivals. What better way to get back on the horse than getting in way over your head and ultimately letting down the legion of newcomers expecting you to walk on water mid-set?

A band can end up like the Smashing Pumpkins. After several post projects failed and members are left with a huge dent in their egos, reviving what first made you matter is a great way kick start that dwindling arrogance. Though bands can play it off and say the side projects were false attempts to ignore where their heart truly lies, it’s hard to ignore all those nasty things said during the break-up and leaves us all questioning the sincerity of the return.

Lastly, a band can end up like the Ramones. When the band returned with new material for a brief Warped Tour stint in the mid 90s, the band was a shell of itself. All bands run this risk upon a reunion gig. There’s always a chance they will just be bad with no hopes of rekindling the former iconic stature.

Where the Smoking Popes reunion will place them is yet to be heard. But it wont be heard by me. I have all the Popes I could ever want in the band’s brilliant catalogue. I’ll let the nostalgia hounds pack the Metro and dust off their copies of the ironically titled “Born To Quit.”

I, on the other hand, will keep listening for the future of rock’n’roll instead of hoping something from the past returns and tries to matter.

Daily Herald BEEP, March 12, 2006