The Wake

Under the illuminated trees of stage theatrical lighting the mythical Pixies emerged from a cloud of smoke to play the music of fabulous rock ’n’ roll muses. The Pixies are themselves muses, inspiring ‘90s rock as they inspired the crowd at Roy Wilkins to lift their voices and arms to the glory that is their psychotically melodic indie rock. The band’s breakup in the early ‘90s left a fracture in modern music. But testaments to their influence have been felt in the gushing remarks of Kurt Cobain, all the way to the success of bands like Pavement and Weezer’s. These bands understood the magnetism of the Pixies’ guitar distortions and of their d surrealist-on-acid lyrics. Likewise, the Minneapolis crowd also understood the Pixies’ magnetism as they resurfaced from the breakup chasm to bring generations of music lovers together.

One couldn’t help but feel young in Roy Wilkins. It’s the gym like quality of the high ceiling and cinderblocks. And the fact that a horde of Gen-Xers are standing next to you might help the matter. As the floor and balcony filled, I couldn’t help but notice the crowd’s diversity. There were hair-dyed moms with their kids, thirteen-year-olds cutting a rug behind me, plenty of hipsters, and this old guy wearing an electric blue Replacements T-shirt convulsing to the music. It appeared the Pixies’ fans were highly generational, a testament to the relevance and beauty of their music. The opening act also had a timely and nostalgic quality. The Datsuns, New Zealand’s version of Led Zeppelin, warmed the diverse crowd up as they rocked away in way too tight jeans. The Datsuns’ revival rock was energetic with killer drums and wonderful guitar excess. Whistles and admiring shouts were thrown at The Datsuns, who played a strong set varying in tempo and intensity.

Meanwhile, exhilaration surged through my veins as I waited to see the Pixies for the first time. Not only does their reunion mean something for indie rock itself it also means something to a newer generation of fans that have found the Pixies. The excitement only swelled as the lights dimmed to welcome the Pixies to the stage. A hush fell over the audience, but the moment Kim Deal stepped onto the stage to serenade us with her unearthly voice the crowd cheered in exaltation. As the other members surmounted the stage, it was clear they were happy to be playing together once again. Smiles were exchanged as Charles Thompson (a.k.a. Black Frances) took the mic and began the casual set of crowd pleasers such as “Here Comes Your Man,” “Where is My Mind?” and “Monkey Gone to Heaven.” The seamless transitions between songs and the partnership between Thompson and Deal’s voices were phenomenal. The organic harmonies, crazed wails of Thompson, and the capricious movements of guitars and drums made the music just as fresh as if it was the beginning of the Pixies’ career.

Throughout their set the Pixies’ easygoing demeanor could be felt. Lead guitarist Joey Santiago took up a gigantic guitar solo, at which point he and drummer David Lovering played catch with a drumstick. Upon grasping the stick the first time Santiago proceeded to play his guitar with it, extorting eerie and fanciful melodies. All the while Deal and Thompson could be seen laughing and enjoying Santiago’s performance. Loving the show of craftsmanship the crowd danced and cheered Santiago on. The musical tension was growing and the audience began to move more and more to the music. Next to me those 13- and 14-year-olds were dancing and moshing away.

As the concert climaxed the Pixies kept the insatiable guitars and drums going till the crowd could take no more and the Pixies then abruptly left the stage. They were called on stage and ended the night with a pleasing encore. Their gracious and appreciative bows and smiles left me with the sense that I had seen greatness. I was grateful for having seen the Pixies, which was something I never expected to happen. As a hybrid of pop melodies, powerful guitar distortions, artful drumming and poetic lyrics the Pixies once again offer a different kind of rock to a new generation of music lovers.

Editors Note: I was unable to attend this show. And for the record, I chopped my ears off and gouged out my eyeballs because of it. Never will I enjoy music again!