Pixies, Wellington NZ, 2022

Pixies

14th December 2022
The Opera House, Wellington, New Zealand

Review by Tim Gruar with photography by Bruce Mackay. 

They are back! After lockdowns, re-schedules and resets, to complete unfinished business Downunder playing their debut releases – the electrifying 1987 EP ‘Come On Pilgrim’ and 1988’s debut full-length album, ‘Surfer Rosa’, in their entirety here in the Capital and at the Christchurch show. Auckland, however, will get a different set with songs across the back catalogue and maybe some brand-new tracks from their latest album, ‘Doggerel’.

Tonight’s concert was something of a curatorial exercise. Normally when bands late in their prime return to Aotearoa they are in revival mode, pushing their latest and greatest, when their fans really just want the hit albums of yester-year. So, what happens when the focus is, indeed, on these earlier works, for the most part ignoring new?

There are the memories and undefinable connections we all have with the original recordings. For me, ‘Surfer Rosa’ was the album I thrashed on student radio at every opportunity. I’d squeeze in ‘Where Is My Mind’ or ‘Gigantic’ between songs from Soweto, Flying Nun bands and Inner City dance beats. It was a time of true creative diversity in airplay and Pixies were definitely part of that rich, beer stained sound carpet that furnished my own sonic house at the time.

But before the Pixies, Ōpōtiki/Tāmaki rockers Die! Die! Die! took the opportunity to blow a few cobwebs away with their perfectly blended mix of hi-powered, infectious post-punk noise pop. The band recently toured new tracks from their latest album, so this was another chance to hear them or to get slightly acquainted, in the case of most of the older audience members.

Andrew Wilson delivers with the intensity of a manic street preacher, well supported by the speed demon combo of Lachlan Anderson and Michael Prain flooding the sound of his arc welding guitar lines. He attacks his guitar with drumsticks and throttles it with feedback from his amp, squeezing sonic hell out of every valve.

They blast through tracks like the incredibly stark and alien ‘This Is Not An Island’ and the explosive dark energy of ‘Losing Sight, Keep on Kicking’. There’s the lomping overture ’15 Years’ and the happy-go-lucky cadence of ‘I seek Misery’. ‘Disappear here’ and ‘8 Months in A Lighthouse’ are the standouts, as much for their drama as their music. And then there’s the obscurely referential ‘Vanish (but That’s My Home Town, Marcus)’, which, I think, is about talk radio commentary and small town bigotry. They complete on a track they’ve only aired live once before called ‘Smelter’. This intensely assaulting noise reminded me of Bailter Space live in their early days.

Die! Die! Die!’s music is just as viceral, complex and brutal as the Pixies in their fledgling years, a veritable tidal wave of controlled, yet chaotic cacophony. A perfect opener, almost as if there was a time machine and one band was transformed to the time of the other to share the stage. And guess what? Here we are, witnessing this in the flesh.

In contrast to their music Wilson is polite and whimsical. “In all our 19 years as a band, we’ve never played to a ‘sit down’ concert before.”

Yes, the weirdness of the venue wasn’t lost on us as the mixed ages of parents, grandparents, even, and kids of kids shuffled in on all levels of the Opera House. It was a sell-out capacity. But this was a concert for everyone at every place. I saw couples, groups, out to party, a hen’s night crew, at least one group of old flatmates reliving experiences and even a dad and young son team.

Before we start in earnest, there’s a short doco up on the big screen that spans the back of the stage, narrated by the bands long time collaborator Vaughan Oliver, who passed away in December 2019.
Oliver produced the artwork for the Pixies’ entire discography during his lifetime, including ‘Come On Pilgrim’ and ‘Surfer Rosa’, as well as numerous singles and EPs. In the movie he tells us anecdotes around how artworks, like how the photo of the topless flamenco dancer on the ‘…Rosa’ cover came about. This was a staged photo in an upstairs room of a pub, made to look like a scene from the Old West.

The movie finishes and the band come on to an orchestral arrangement of ‘Where Is My Mind’.

“Welcome to the Opera”. Black Francis announces their intentions for the night and they kick into an intense and high-sonic version of ‘Pilgrim’s’ opening track, ‘Caribou’ complete with 12-foot-high images of two deer drawn in black and white.

But the images will change, constantly, flashing up reminders of Oliver’s work from all of their albums and videos, even the lights turn on and off, focusing here there and everywhere as if the lighting operator is actually a stray cat high on catnip rolling about the desk with wild abandon.

Unlike many recordings of the time Pixies’ debut EP, ‘Come on Pilgrim’, was smashed together quickly, cobbled together hastily from a cheap demo. The infamous ‘Purple Tape’ recorded over six days, and funded by Black Francis’ Dad, at Boston’s now legendary Fort Apache studios not long after they’d got together as a group. Shopped around also in haste, Ivo Watts-Russell from label 4AD took a punt on it, releasing 8 songs as an ep.

And it’s easy to see why he loved it. Right here you get the band’s essential, core ‘sound’ – a widely used template with Francis’ manic screams, rants and stutters; David Lovering pounding away on the kit; Joey Santiago playing spikey, nagging riffs on guitar, and Kim Deal’s plodding bass and sugary fly paper voice.
‘Pilgrim’ was fully formed when it surfaced, yet still had enough chaotic energy to feel at least a little bit DIY/Punk. Take the twisted brain gnarler “Ed Is Dead”, a sort of surfer girl love song. It wants to be a typical pop song but goes out of its way to self destruct. All over this ep you can hear influences from the band’s peers like Violent Femmes, The Stooges, Lou Reed and Husker Du. Played tonight, it’s a punk song for sure. The players may have a few centimetres on the tooth but the energy still remains young and angry.

There’s plenty more hard-core in there, too. Like “I’ve Been Tired,” which has been considered as a surreal response to romantic rejection and sexual frustration. Francis almost sighs his delivery. Above him random snatches of his song compete with the actual lines he’s singing, provoking a confused response, at least.

And then there’s the perplexing “Isla de Encanta” – which I always thought was Tatoo’s song from the 80’s show ‘Fantasy Island’. Turns out it’s waaaaay cruder.

All over the e.p. you get spooky, sci-fi themes toying with theatrical imagery. Francis was inspired at the time by movie makers like David Lynch, so his lyrics were uncomfortable and nervous – dark sexual fetishes, obsessions with death and religious extremes. All of this blended in with a dark sense of humour and brazen obscurity. To newer audiences the lyrics can either unnecessarily offend or wash over without any impacts on the listener. On “Caribou” we are urged to “Reeeeepent!”, coming at you like at baseball bat to the head. Yes that line gets headlighted on the screen. Of course it does!

The e.p. is bookended by “Levitate Me” which pilfers a line from Christian singer Larry Norman: “Come on pilgrim, you know he loves you!” It also becomes the album’s tag line. And up it comes, in cartoon form on the big screen. Throughout this e.p’s performance fragments of lines will appear and reappear light ghosts. This is the animated version of what Oliver had envisaged for a book of photography he produced for the band’s box set a while back.

Then you get these weird, hard to figure out blasts like “The Holiday Song” and “Nimrod’s Son” – both, I read later, are voyeuristic, an uncomfortable look at incest, or at least unhealthy family relationships. There’s a line in ‘Nimrod’s Son’ that still creeps me out: “My sister held me close and whispered to my bleeding head/You are the son of a motherfucker” – which Francis and Lenchantin shout to the gallery like possessed banshee-demons, grinning all the way.

In comparison to later albums and e.p.’s, ‘Pilgrim’ still sounds raw and unnerving. Live, it has levels of nuance that you miss on the recording – body language, self checking, smiles, nods and of course the audience reaction. With songs not meant for today’s #MeToo audience it was a fascinating experiment.

Then there’s the band’s debut full length album ‘Surfer Rosa’, which was also made in a hurry. Recorded in just 10 days at the end of 1987 it was a ferocious effort that completely reinvented alternative rock, with a long reach, inspiring Radiohead, Smashing Pumpkins, Bowie, Radiohead, Nirvana and heaps more. Reviewers have called it a work of melodic intoxication and ‘visceral brutality’.

Again, the subjects are also unsavoury – incest, venereal disease, sexual conquest and extreme violence. Then add Catholic repression smashed against a wall of abandoned flamenco, chaotic surf punk and thrash. It takes most listeners multiple attempts to find their way in to acceptance. It’s not an easy listen, that’s for sure.

Francis and Santiago destroy the rule book on guitar playing, matching up song structures with uneasy melodies. Like ‘Bone Machine’, with its stop start approach, almost like someone forgot to write the arrangements for the bridge. Or ‘Gigantic’ which wants to be a pop song but just can’t face the limelight. Then there’s the churning of guitars on ‘Where Is My Mind?’ offset by these ridiculously immature lyrics about Caribbean swims and little fishes.  But the band are no slacks, the solo on the song is unusually played with notes from the B minor pentatonic scale, layered over a succession of major chords. An intelligent yet unconventional approach, almost showing off, on purpose.

‘Bone Machine’ comes almost as relief in contrast to the songs on ‘Pilgrim’. The audience leave their seats and rush to the front. They sing at the top of their lungs, lost in memories and its quirky melody structure. ‘Where is my Mind’, of course gets the biggest sing-a-long.

Albini had fun on this album, too encouraging the guitarists to use metal picks, or running Francis’ vocals through his distortion pedals, Kim Deal’s vocals on ‘Gigantic’ were done in the bathroom to get an overly bright sound. Snatches of studio conversations are left in, like a moment when Francis tries to finish Deal’s sentence and is misunderstood claiming he wanted to ‘kill her’.

Tonight Lenchantin sings Deal’s part on ‘Gigantic’ and the audience helps her out – not that she needed it. She nails it!

Lyrics get really uncomfortable almost in defiance: “horny loser/ you’ll find me crashing through my mother’s door” on ‘Break My Body’ or a breathless charge of aggression and despair on ‘Something Against You’, or a mocking disintegration of the feelings of teenage isolationism on ‘Broken Face’. Somehow this song seems more rushed tonight, more punk. And loud, too.

The album’s pace is relentless and frantic. Live, it must be emotionally and physically draining to perform. You need ‘Gigantic’ with its sweet melodies to calm down and rest a little… Then the onslaught returns. ‘Cactus’ implores a lover to “bloody your hands on a cactus tree / Wipe it on your dress and send it to me”. We all sing along despite feeling like we are somehow encouraging a serial killer to carry on their good work. Performed live, I almost believe this to be a soft, sweet blues ballad, but I can’t hep being a little unsettled by the lyrical overtones.

Santiago has not lost his skills for one-note riffing, as he burrows away on ‘Oh My Golly!’. ‘Vamos’, like the album version is drowning in a squall of bone shaking feedback. He tortures his golden guitar, squeezing sound out of it like the remains of a toothpaste tube.

I’ve just realised that I haven’t actually mentioned Black Francis’ performance. That’s because he’s so svelte and quiet in his performance, as if the songs were channelling through him. Other band members are respectful performers, too. Simply put, they are present and engaging. Francis seems to be trying to take up as little space as possible. He makes the biggest splash, yet so quietly with his vocals and body language doing all the work.

Lovering, too, is on fire, so accurate and, at the risk of using the word again, visceral in his execution.

The album done, Lovering looks up from his drum kit and checks his watch. Time for a few more.

So, they pound through a selection of newbies and oldies including ‘Gouge Away’, ‘Wave of Mutilation’, ‘Tame’, ‘Planet of Sound’, ‘a sparking version of ‘Here Comes Your Man’, a face melting rendition of the Jesus & Mary Chain’s ‘Head On’ and a sublime cover of Neil Young’s ‘Winterlong’ with yet another mesmerising solo from Santiago.

It was a long time coming but I’m glad they did. Pixies are truly a phenomenal live act and well worth the price of admission – now and in your memories – and live is the best way to see them. By the end of the night you need to leave by the escape hatch before the theatre explodes. And don’t blame us if you wake up with unexpected residues on you dinner jacket!

Were you there at The Opera House for this brilliant alt-rock gig? Or have you seen the Pixies perform live somewhere else before? Tell us about it in the comments below!

Setlist:

1. Caribou
2. Vamos
3. Isla de Encanta
4. Ed Is Dead
5. The Holiday Song
6. Nimrod’s Son
7. I’ve Been Tired
8. Levitate Me
9. Bone Machine
10. Break My Body
11. Something Against You
12. Broken Face
13. Gigantic
14. River Euphrates
15. Where Is My Mind?
16. Cactus
17. Tony’s Theme
18. Oh My Golly!
19. Vamos
20. I’m Amazed
21. Brick Is Red
22. Gouge Away
23. Wave of Mutilation
24. Head On [The Jesus and Mary Chain cover]
25. Tame
26. Planet of Sound
27. Ana
28. Here Comes Your Man
29. Winterlong [Neil Young cover]

_{Note: Ambient Light was provided passes to review and photograph this concert. As always, this has not influenced the review in any way and the opinions expressed are those of Ambient Light’s only. This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase a product using an affiliate link, Ambient Light will automatically receive a small commission at no cost to you.}

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