Semi-Rabid Rock From the Pixies
By SIMON REYNOLDS
New York Times, October 27, 1991
There was a time when the Boston group the Pixies
was the last word in rock-and-roll bacchanalia. The group's singer and
songwriter, Black Francis, had been inspired by Iggy Pop of the Stooges
and by David Lynch movies like "Eraserhead" and "Blue Velvet." From Iggy
Pop, he derived a "primal scream" vocal style, while Mr. Lynch's
macabre surrealism influenced Black Francis's id-infested writing.
The Pixies' lyrics seethed with febrile imagery of
sleazy sex, base biological processes and mutilated bodies. Black
Francis's singing often bordered on speaking-in-tongues delirium. The
impression was of a driven, repressed individual venting his inner
turmoil in what he has called a "scream of consciousness."
The Pixies broke with their rabid norm with last
year's "Bossanova." With its intricate harmonies and twangy surf guitar,
the album's patron saint seemed to be Brian Wilson. Like Mr. Lynch's
"Wild at Heart," "Bossanova" was picaresque but ultimately cute and
inconsequential.
Perhaps because of the mixed reactions to
"Bossanova," the group's fifth album, "Trompe le Monde" (Elektra 61118;
CD and cassette), was hyped as a return to the good old noisy Pixies
that everybody loved. There were even rumors of a heavy-metal slant. And
indeed, there has been a perceptible shift back to the raucousness of
1988's "Surfer Rosa." On songs like "Alec Eiffel" and "Distance Equals
Rate Times Time," the Pixies are once again smothering their gorgeous
harmonies and melodies under a barrage of grunge.
For those who would dismiss Pixies as mere New
Wave-college radio lightweights, "Trompe le Monde" provides plenty of
ammunition: self-consciously quirky song structures, whimsical lyrics
and abrupt tempo changes and mood shifts. Black Francis has developed
the penchant for the kitschy sci-fi scenarios first explored on
"Bossanova" in songs like "Velouria," a love ode to an extraterrestrial
femme fatale.
"Bird Dream of the Olympus Mons" is about watching
the sun rise over a mountain range on Mars. "Lovely Day" continues the
Martian theme with what appears to be the lovelorn blues of a migrant
worker on the red planet. "Motorway to Roswell" is about an American
town where an alien craft is alleged to have crash-landed in 1947.
Time and/or space travel also recurs on the song
"Planet of Sound." With Black Francis's distorted voice, Kim Deal's
grinding boogie bass riff and Joey Santiago's squealing, backfiring
guitar, the group sounds more demented than it has in years. Yet there's
something curiously detached and studied about "Planet of Sound." Like a
lot of the Pixies' work since their semi-glossy 1989 album,
"Doolittle," it feels like an immaculately wrought but dispassionate
simulation of rock mania. A kind of blank irony, reminiscent of Pop Art
sensibility, holds the music back from true wildness.
The new album also features a remake of "Head On" by
the Jesus and Mary Chain, another group that has an almost scholarly
appreciation of the underground rock canon.
"Subbaculcha," the best song on "Trompe le Monde,"
sounds like the Jesus and Mary Chain's "My Little Underground." Lyrics
like "I was all dressed in black/ She was all dressed in black/ I was
wearing eye liner/ She was wearing eye liner" simultaneously mock and
glorify the outsider pose, while the music throbs with the brooding,
malignant pulse of the Pixies at their untamed best. The problem is not
that the Pixies have run out of things to say (content was never their
forte anyway), but that they're running out of new ways to reiterate
that nothing-to-say. "Trompe le Monde" doesn't have enough new twists
and turns to provoke anything but the inconclusive verdict: another
pretty good Pixies record.
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