September 7th may have been the greatest night for people-watching at a show. Ever. Gen-X music icons, The Pixies, were about to hit the stage at the Plaza of Nations, and I found myself rubbing shoulders with the strangest crowd ever assembled at the quasi-outdoor venue.

To the left of me I saw weathered hipsters – men and women clearly in their early to mid 30’s, sporting trademarked thick rimmed glasses, but also sporting deeply receding hairlines or crowsfeet around their eyes. To the right I saw people half that age – hoodie-wearing mall-punk kids, driven by curiosity to check out the band that their older brother or sister raved about a decade ago.

The entertaining thing was that everyone was getting along swimmingly.

Despite an almost tangible tension in the air as the collective crowd waited and waited for the Boston-based 4 piece to jump on stage, everyone maintained a surprising level of calm. No pushing, no shoving, just mild debate about what song the band might open with.

That was until drummer David Lovering started hammering out the opening beat for “Bone Machine.” As stick hit the skin all bets were off and happy hysteria set in. Everyone was clambering to get a glimpse and to get as close to the band as humanly possible. And why not, really? This was the band that supposedly was the foundation of inspiration for Nirvana and the rest of the 90’s alt-rock movement. This was the music that formed the soundtrack in those weathered hipsters’ teenage years. But, what I was more interested in was attempting to figure out if the music stood the test of time, or if we were all just a bit high on the fumes of nostalgia.

Surprizingly, the songs – some of which were penned 15 years ago – are still rich with vitality. Yes, Frank Black’s lyrical subject matter is ambiguous and all over the map, but that creates a timeless quality to their sentiment. Yes, the bulk of their material has a unchanging “caveman” quality to it (ie: loud, soft, loud, soft, etc), but it works well in a live environment. The two qualities create a show which is compelling and completely pleasing to take in… if you can handle the mall-punk kids randomly asking the name of each song the band tore into.

The other pleasant surprise was The Pixies’ stage presence. Overall, it appeared more polished than their last stop in Vancouver in late April. This, of course, being the result The Pixies’ summer of steady touring and festival performances across North America and the UK. There seems to be a level of maturity and contentment between the band members. I could have sworn I saw Frank Black and bassist/vocalist Kim Deal exchange smiles with sincerity throughout the night. Drummer David Lovering and guitarist Joey Santiago also created playful interludes within their performance as Lovering tossed his drumstick to Santiago which he then used to play his guitar. This positive band dynamic was a far cry notorious bitterness which tore the band apart in 1993.

I’ve been asked by many friends to tell them about a specific highlight for me in the evening… and I really can’t. This wasn’t a normal show. This wasn’t a show where people came to be seen or to kill time on a Tuesday night. This show was cheerful and shockingly fun. “Fun” isn’t really a word used to describe shows these days. But then again, The Pixies aren’t like most bands these days.

Elsewhere

By Rob Anand
Photos : Tanya Volk
Published February, 2005.