Following their 2004 reformation, Pixies headlined the Reading and Leeds festival the following year.
For many of us this was a chance to take in Boston’s truculent noiseniks after missing them first time round; it was in some aspects therefore not so much an event as a rite passage.
And then a funny thing happened; as darkness fell punters began to stream away from the main stage, a human caravan leaving Black Francis and co. to entertain a crowd which could generously be described as economic in size.
Eventually this writer gave up too, and joined the throng on their journey to the NME stage, where all suddenly became clear; Leicester upstarts Kasabian were top of the bill, the tent so packed that thousands of speccies were craning their necks just to get a glimpse of the new guard.
The public it seemed had spoken.
Happily the blow was far from a terminal one, and now nearly a decade later the reformed version of the Pixies has been together longer than the original one. This period of stability came to a halt last summer, with bassist Kim Deal leaving apparently in the midst of recording the predecessor to this release, the also snappily entitled ‘EP-1‘.
Francis had spoken previously about the need to revitalise the band’s energies through the medium of recording new material – their last album was 1991’s ‘Trompe Le Monde‘ – although everyone remains tight lipped on whether this aspiration was one that all shared.
The release of their second EP (part of a planned series conceived as an alternative to delivering a full album) is somewhat overshadowed both by the revolving bassist door as Deal’s replacement Kim Shattruck was summarily fired and then replaced with Paz Lenchantin and more so by the savage criticism that its predecessor received from some quarters.
These cries of a lack of authenticity were loud, even given the context of a twenty-year-plus hibernation of the creative process, not it appears that it bothered the band that much themselves.
Their (possibly) offended fans may have been smarting, but they’ll be relieved the press sneers that this was a band that had lost not just its mojo but its very identity – despite the fact both ‘Andro Queen‘ and ‘Indie Cindy‘ were actually rather good – may be quieted this time round.
Opener ‘Blue Eyed Hexe‘ does that job effectively, bringing the whole back to basics shebang on point with some chunky riffage and a cheese laden chorus that takes us back to a more primitive rock n’ rowl, but in possession of a less intense level of bug-eyed grind. It’s a return of the old thrill alright, although it should be whispered that there are definite flashes of AC/DC to be had for the widely listened.
This swagger isn’t strictly repeated again, although ‘Magdelena‘ has the same kind of creeping menace that the band could patent if they wanted to; subtle and always feeling like it’s about to get massive, this lower pulse is something of a decoy, a velvet hand in a velvet glove. If the first two songs are cogent examples of past glories (the degree to which they recapture them still up for debate) then the others brace point their way to something else.
Ironically, if an outfit such as the Manic Street Preachers had dropped a song like ‘Greens and Blues‘ onto their last album, it would most likely have been hailed as a pastoral, alt.pop masterpiece. Whether people feel its hook-laden guitar lines are appropriate for the Pixies will take time however to understand.
Its lack of punch, grind or weirdness – indeed its very orthodoxy – is though oddly brave, a continuation of the experimental ethic that’s helped to blur their place on the Ye Olde Mappe of Musik. The same sentiment could apply just as broadly to closer ‘Snakes‘, its edges darker but in spirit still taking cues from more mainstream garage and 20th century college rock they once thumbed their noses at.
Neither are anything ground breaking, but that argument lacks perspective; had they set about to re-create ‘Surfer Rosa‘ times four over again, they’d equally have been pilloried for a lack of inventiveness and refusal to change.
Damned if you do then and damned if you don’t; probably best to just be damned full stop, as the devil has all the best tunes.
Starting with a fair, reasonable, positive and optimistic review of the new Pixies material and closing with an obscure Prefab Sprout reference! You, good sir, are my kind of music fan. Bravo.