Pixies’ songs are dark. They obsess over lust and shunned love. They are near-psychotic experiences that keep reason on a very loose leash. Their incessant sound simultaneously hurts the ears and brings pleasure. A sound that relates to the listener through their baser emotions, ideas and instincts, expressing everything that they try to repress. A sound the Pixies emulated, but could not recapture, in Detroit.
When Pixies played at The Fillmore Detroit, they played it like a recital. In sequence, they progressed through two studio albums — Bossanova and Trompe le Monde — as well as four other songs at the end. During each song, guitarist Joey Santiago and bassist Emma Richardson stood stock-still behind their mics, their attention consumed by their instruments. Frontman Black Francis roved back and forth a bit, but even he stayed squarely behind his mic. No one walked over to another band member and played off of them. No one walked toward, or even really acknowledged, the audience. At the end of the show, the band grabbed hands and bowed instead of playing an encore. They could’ve been in a recording studio and played the same show.
This is not to say that they weren’t trying. One could see the exertion on Francis’ face, the rivulets of sweat that beaded on his scalp and the childlike smile he walked off the stage with. But instead of the audience, Pixies focused their attention single-mindedly on their music.
The Pixies’ sound was clear, booming from the back of the stage. Drummer David Lovering kept a strong concurrent beat. His strikes were surgical. Aided by a set of fans, his flowy hair and baggy clothes made him appear like an angel of rhythm — though the rest of the band didn’t need saving, they all mercilessly kept up. Throughout the mostly unknown tracklist of Trompe le Monde, Lovering’s drumming was invigorating.
Santiago and Richardson did great work enhancing the melodic elements of the songs while also adding to their raw power. Bossanova may be the Pixies at their most melodic, and both of them wonderfully played off this. Pixies star bassist and vocalist Kim Deal has been missing from the band since 2013, and Richardson is Deal’s most recent replacement. Richardson wonderfully took over her duties at bass and backing vocals. Her vocals were high and otherworldly. On the Peter Ivers and David Lynch cover, “In Heaven (Lady in the Radiator Song),” Richardson sang lead, perfectly matching the scintillating light show and the repeating biblical lyrics.
Francis sang the majority of the lead vocals. For the most part, he was able to hit the screeching notes of his younger days. Sometimes, though, his age would creep in, and his voice began to feel a little flat. His guitar playing, on the other hand, was consistently stellar as he alternated between abrasive strumming to more artistic leads.
Half of what makes music so important, though, isn’t the music itself — it’s the dialogues that it creates. It’s the communion between artist and listener, and the attempt by both to share something words don’t do justice. At their show, the Pixies seemed like they had given up on that. Their stagemanship was dull, failing to embody the heart of their music. During this performance, they didn’t try to talk to their fans. No breaks occurred between songs. The lights would turn off for a split second and the group would go immediately into their next song. Only once did the band pause, for roughly a minute, which Francis jokingly described as a smoke break. The crowd burst out laughing, eating his quip up. Obviously the fans wanted more interaction, but the Pixies didn’t want to fulfill their wishes.
As the show neared an end, some of the audience took matters into their own hands. For most of the show the audience felt subdued, mirroring the band’s energy on stage; some people would dance, but for short intervals and everyone seemed overtly conscientious of each other’s personal space. When they were playing Bossanova, most of the crowd knew the songs, but when they entered Trompe le Monde, the energy dropped significantly. Still, a few audience members weren’t willing to have a soulless Pixies show.
About halfway through playing Trompe le Monde, about 20 audience members started moshing. The mosh mostly consisted of young people, born after Trompe le Monde’s release in 1991. They started throwing their bodies into each other. Every shove and flying shoulder brought energy back to the screech of the music. It built upon itself, and people couldn’t stay on the ground any longer. Instead they took the hands of their fellow audience members. One of the moshers started crowd-surfing, then another and another. Heads swiveled to watch, the rest of the audience becoming more absorbed by this spectacle than the Pixies. It seemed fitting, almost as if the rebellious dancing had been what the people really came to see. The audience remembered what the music was about even if the Pixies didn’t.
As the crowd surfers rode their wave, the Pixies left Trompe le Monde, and played “In Heaven (Lady in the Radiator Song).” It was followed by “Here Comes Your Man,” which made the audience euphoric. A mix of the familiar ostentatious riff and the energy from the mosh made them feel alive again, dancing and singing along. The next song, “Where Is My Mind?,” was even more exciting as it was their most popular song. Francis also let the crowd sing a verse — a gift happily received. It felt as if the energy and the music was finally balanced. Even if Pixies were resolved to be placid, the audience wasn’t. Eventually, the band played “Into the White,” bringing the show to a close.
In the end, the concert felt incomplete. The next day the Pixies were playing a different set, one filled with hits but also songs from their newest album The Night the Zombies Came. Hits spread out across future shows might help solve the Pixies’ pacing issues and make the set feel fuller. However, an audience member shouldn’t be expected to attend two shows to get a satisfying experience. What felt incomplete about the show wasn’t the unknown songs; an artist can play songs you never heard of before, do so with intensity and passion, and still provide a life-changing experience. The Pixies’ concert felt hollow because they approached their songs as though they didn’t care.
Daily Arts Writer Joe Bogdan can be reached at joebogdn@umich.edu.
