Photo: Wenn
The Pixies return to Brixton Academy tonight (Monday, 28 November) only four months after they last graced the same South London stage. The venue has become something of a spiritual home for the band since they chose it to host a series of explosive comeback shows in 2004. And on tonight’s evidence, this is one transatlantic special relationship that is in no danger of cooling off.
Tonight gets off to a bit of a slow start with a slightly meat and potatoes version of ‘Where Is My Mind?’ – a song that, to be honest, owes its fame more to Hollywood than its own musical worth. Things start to warm up with the relentless ramshackle vim of ‘Nimrod’s Son’ and ‘Break My Body’ but the residual chill from the bitterly cold winter night outside hasn’t quite been banished yet.
The show gets going in earnest when Frank Black swaps the acoustic guitar he’s been sporting for the first half of the show for an electric, fires into ‘Planet of Sound’ and ‘U-Mass’ from the criminally underrated Trompe Le Monde and sends Brixton into the kind of frenzy that by all rights shouldn’t be anywhere near a Monday night in November.
The band are even charitable enough to play almost all of their new songs in a block to give those more attached to the older material (almost everyone to be honest) a chance to do what they need to do before the final stretch.
This newer material is where relatively new bassist and vocalist Paz Lenchantin gets a chance to shine. She does everything well, she’s technically a better player than Kim Deal and doesn’t do a bad job of aping her vocals when required – but boy do the band miss Kim at times.
There’s something about her presence that just can’t be replaced, which isn’t at all Paz’s fault. But occasionally it is evident. The band don’t even attempt fans’ favourite ‘Gigantic’ or a number of other songs where Deal’s vocals are to the fore. Conversely, their one song encore is every cultish obsessive’s favourite b-side ‘Into the White’, where Lenchantin, aided by gallons of dry ice and lavish vocal effects, deputises admirably for her predecessor.
But this is all a minor quibble in the grand scheme of things as tonight’s show is still magnificent. Somewhere between the towering majesty of ‘Velouria’ and the deliciously menacing ‘Gouge Away’ you start to wonder whether it’s actually possible for The Pixies to run out of songs. It’s a relentless assault that briefly transports you away from South London to a musical Eden somewhere indescribable but warm and welcoming. Such is the power of a select number of artists across the planet to turn the most basic of power chords into something transcendental. To say The Pixies are among the greats is no exaggeration.
