Here comes your man: Pixies leader Black Francis killed it again at the Fillmore last night — as if we ever doubted him. Photo by Tina Hagerling.
Ah, 1989, it seems like it was only 20 years ago.
The worry with nostalgia is a little like the warning you read in your car: “Objects in rearview mirror may appear larger than they actually are.” We tend imagine the past in grander presences. Sometimes, though, the exaggeration feels justified.
The Pixies played Denver last night for the at the Fillmore Auditorium on a multi-nation tour of their epic 1989 album, “Doolittle.” If you were of a skeptical bent of mind, you might wonder if touring a 20-year-old album without any new material signaled a new trend in musical promotion or was just the product of a legendary band from Boston reaching for its moors.
For me, this question was dismissed when Black Francis screamed, in key — the way only he seems able to — “T—A—M —E!” This second take from “Doolittle” had somehow eclipsed even the slicing energy of the opener, “Debaser.”
I’d seen the Pixies twice since they reunited in 2004 and hadn’t heard that scream since, well, about 20 years earlier, when they opened for Pere Ubu at the old Gothic Theatre. A lot of Pixies fans are too young to remember that, but it seemed like there was something different about this show in comparison to the band’s recent performances, like they had reconnected to the original energy that created the songs.
The big radio hit from the album, “Here Comes Your Man,” was driven by a twanged-up guitar solo from Joey Santiago that gave the song a whole new rockabilly-West context. For the break of the next song, “Dead,” Santiago and drummer David Lovering worked through a line of jazzy changes in melodies and tempos. There aren’t a lot of rock bands — 20 years ago or now — who can do twangy and jazzy this well in successive songs. The full house in the Fillmore began to hang on every note of the album’s successive songs, most of which were quirkily introduced by Kim Deal.
If a 20-year-old album like “Doolittle” could still generate this excitement, who knows, maybe people would go to see a comedian who told jokes they’d already heard or an author read from a book they’d already read, or a painter stage a gallery “opening” of the same pieces from years before. But music is somehow different. The Pixies proved that when you play greatly constructed songs with intent — “greatly constructed” and “intent” being the key terms here — it doesn’t matter when those songs were written.
“No. 13 Baby” demonstrated the band’s wide range even more, with Santiago squeezing out a solo veering from cool spy noir to the threat of real menace. “There Goes My Gun” was highlighted by Black Francis yelling in almost mocking disgust, “Look at me/Look at me!”
The Fillmore’s house lights were already on by the time of the band’s second encore and the crowd would’ve gladly stayed for a third. Early on in the show, Kim Deal referred to the tour as a celebration. There will likely be many more bands to construct tours out of their old albums. The Pixies proved they can still dig fire from their past — enough to make you hope for what might lie ahead.
Follow Reverb on Twitter! !
Denver-based writer Sam DeLeo is a published poet, has seen two of his plays produced and is currently finishing his second novel.
Tina Hagerling is a Denver photographer and regular contributor to Reverb. Check out more of her .
