Breathtaking in their pop brilliance, it’s when actually seeing the Pixies – the PIXIES!! – perform that the realisation comes…every band you have ever adored in the last fifteen years, minimum, has been influenced by these four very people.
It really is a case of the hits and memories – a casting glance is given toward Trompe le Monde and Bossanova, but the focus (as it should be) is on material from Come On Pilgrim, Surfer Rosa, and the irrepressible Doolittle. The band are as tight as a band playing their hits and memories should be, despite Kim saying, rather than harmonising the titular hook line on Debaser. In a nice touch, the band’s set is preceded by the second disc of Frank Black Francis, in which the band’s best numbers were recast by Black and Pere Ubu collaborators Two Pale Boys in 2004, just prior to the reformation beginning.
It’s often understated just how good a collective of musicians the Pixies actually are. With his Amish-alike beard, Dave Lovering does more than just keep the beat – he powers it along in glorious leaps and bounds, his inventive style completely classic. He’s assisted in keeping the bottom end by Mrs. John Murphy – Kim Deal: the woman who has inspired how many fellow fems to pick up a bass guitar and join a band? – who makes an incredible racket for someone armed with only four strings, her thick gelatinous bass runs booming out powerful and true. Joey Santiago creates an unholy racket with three Marshalls stacked behind him, as he’s left with the entire left of stage to treat as he will. Yet he keeps it fairly static throughout – save for when he calls for Dave to chuck him a drumstick to better eke out the noise during Vamos.
Then there’s Frank Black Francis, Charles Kitteridge Thompson IV. He doesn’t address the audience; he barely addresses his band, save to check that Dave is all good to sing La La Love You. The band don’t wander offstage for an encore after their set proper has finished – instead, they wave to the audience, say thankyou, then reset themselves to deliver said track and the blissful Gigantic.
So is this a mere cash-in? Oh yes. While the band seem to be thoroughly enjoying themselves – and the audience goes absolutely ape-shit, like they have very rarely to many, many bands throughout the years – you nevertheless get the sense that the Pixies have done this setlist a thousand and one times before this night, and will do it a thousand and one times again.
Who knows if there’ll ever be another Pixies album; in some ways it would be nice if, unlike the Stooges, they never dared to fuck with their legacy.
