Review: Pixies EP1

The first concert I ever attended was Nirvana, and the Breeders opened.  I had “mosh pit” tickets, so I was front and center for the show, loving every minute of it.  It was at the height of grunge (in Minnesota suburbs, anyway) so I wore both my flannel shirts.  I guess I figured it was super-grunge.  My first concert was everything I wanted it to be, mostly bragging rights for the rest of my life.

At one point in the Breeder’s set, Kim Deal ditched her guitar and dove off the stage into the crowd.  I thrust my hands up in a panic, not wanting to be the weak link that caused Kim Deal’s multiple reconstructive face surgeries.  My hands were up just in time for her landing, my right hand square on her tit.  My mind raced, imagining her stopping the concert to call me out for being a pervert, publicly shaming me and then dooming me to a concert-less rest of my life.  I pulled my hand away so fast that I elbowed the person behind me.  Then I panicked again, this time because I had my hand on her tit for a perfectly legitimate reason: she put it there.  I was simply doing my part.  But if I put my hand back up there, it would have been creepy and wrong.  My window of legit boob-grabbing opportunity had been shut.

I wonder if the recording of the new Pixies EP, EP1, was kind of like me attempting to re-create my stage-diving boob-grab of Kim deal.  Some things just happen.  Perhaps this music had its window and trying to make something “just happen” is a dangerous game.  It immediately strikes of nostalgia and lacks in quality.

What did I expect, though?  Was the new Pixies supposed to naturally pick up where the last album left off?  With everybody over a decade older, have gone in their own directions, having shrugged off this band and abandoned this sound for good, how was that supposed to be accomplished?  However, they’ve been touring together, and they made the decision to create more music under the Pixies’ name, so isn’t that a reasonable expectation?

This EP sounds like a Frank Black record with a better backing band.  This doesn’t sound like Black Francis, which is what I’d expect the Pixies to sound like.  Screechy, crass and endearing, not dull and uninspired.    Hopefully, they just need to shake off the cobwebs before they get to the good stuff.  Hopefully they don’t take all the reviews too seriously.

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