If there’s one thing Pixies’ drummer David Lovering wants fans to know, it’s that they aren’t an asocial band. “We don’t do banter, we don’t make jokes in between songs, we just get up there and play. It’s not that we don’t want to be there, we aren’t being asocial, we just want to do what we came there to do.” Lovering spoke of what it was like to miss making music when venues closed their doors during the Covid pandemic, describing it as a “no man’s land,” where everyone was simply wishing and waiting to be able to get back on the road again. There’s a new appreciation for touring, he said, and he was more than ready to kick off this tour, in support of the band’s 2022 release, Doggerel.
The crowd at Asheville’s Rabbit Rabbit didn’t seem to mind the lack of chit-chat when the Pixies took the stage at the outdoor venue on June 17. Backed by the setting sun and facing a remarkably well-behaved horde of fans from pint-sized tots to people well into their senior years, the band kicked off their wall-to-wall set with the Surfer Rosa classic “Cactus,” Black Francis’ mournful wail welcoming everyone to the spinning vortex of sound that first drew listeners in nearly 40 years ago.
In 1986, radio waves seemed dominated more by the sounds of hissing hairspray cans and stretching Spandex than by anything folks could relate to. Hair metal was stampeding over the horizon, pop idols bopped their heads from side to side on MTV while they patted their permed tresses with fingerless lace gloves, and the phenomenon that would become grunge – as if in deliberate contrast to the neon and airbrushed norms of the waning era – was still in its screaming, angry infancy. Somehow amid all of that chaos, the Pixies crawled out of the woodwork (well, technically out of Lovering’s basement) with a sound like nothing else. The decades between then and now did nothing to dull the band’s biting edge, and they powered through their set like the proverbial well-oiled machine, albeit one that shifts and morphs not only from song to song but verse to verse.
That fluidity has been a constant for the Pixies, and their set at Rabbit Rabbit highlighted that beautifully. From the lonesome blues of “Cactus” all the way through to the end and their powerful cover of Neil Young’s “Winterlong,” the music was a well-curated musical journey through the band’s extensive catalog. “Debaser” got the crowd moving in that collective Gen X way and you didn’t even need to squint to imagine that the audience was a sea of flannel and skater cuts, and when they kicked into “Here Comes Your Man,” an audible sigh arose amid the cheers as folks relived for a second the days of song dedications and hitting repeat on the CD player because that one song just won’t get out of your head. The nostalgia was strong and the Pixies did their due diligence, tearing through “Monkey Gone to Heaven” with a spectacular ferocity and dipping into the surreal with the requisite “Where is My Mind” and there wasn’t a bad spot in the entire night, but where they really tore it up was when they broke out the new material.
Doggerel was recorded during the winter in Vermont, the band trekking a quarter mile through the snowy woods from the artist’s residences to the studio, and that experience seems to have shaped the tracks on that album. Country-tinged and occasionally reminiscent of early Cracker, with a distinct vocal twang and lyrics that, in trademark Pixies style, blend intelligence and absurdity with a deftness few others have mastered, songs like “Haunted House” and “Who’s More Sorry Now?” prove that the Pixies are much more than just a ‘90s alternative band. And yet, “Get Simulated” ripped through the crowd with the same searing energy the Pixies brought to their earlier albums, and it could slip between the tracks of Doolittle as if it had always been there.
The Pixies are a study in contrast, blending ethereal melodies and hard-driving riffs with influences derived from across the globe and the musical spectrum, weaving old and new in a way that makes that contrast a pivotal part of their sound, a timeless testament to the power of camaraderie and creativity. The sound at Rabbit Rabbit was surprisingly clear, especially for an outdoor venue in the middle of a tourist town bustling with summer activity, and the Pixies’ performance was spot on. There is no laziness here, no sloppy playing or phoning it in, just a group of stellar musicians doing what they love.
This review wouldn’t be complete without mention of Franz Ferdinand, who took the stage before the Pixies. Like the Pixies, they showed up ready to play hard and well, and they did not disappoint. Their performance proved as tight as any live recording, and they spun the crowd into, well, not quite a frenzy, but certainly a tizzy, with their impressive set of hits and lesser-known tracks. Despite not having released a studio album since 2018, Franz Ferdinand is clearly still relevant, and while their music and the Pixies’ don’t seem an obvious match at first listen, both bands have an enduring quality to their music and a diversity of sound that makes them well-suited to share a bill. With Nashville band Bully kicking things off, the show was a sweet mix of powerful energy, reminiscence, and reassurance that the music we know and love isn’t going anywhere.
One Response
Hate I missed it! look like an epic show!