Artist bio

See also: Frank Black, The Amps, The Breeders

Arguably the most crucial rock band of their generation, the Pixies formed humbly in Boston in 1987, and disbanded with little fanfare six years later, having offered via five albums and an incendiary live show a bridge between '80s underground rock and '90s "alternative," a blueprint for some of the '90s most groundbreaking artists, and a new approach to the classic 3-minute pop song formula.

Abrasively creative frontman Black Francis (nee Charles Thompson, later Frank Black) and his friend and filipino fireball of a lead guitarist Joey Santiago rounded out the final two pieces of their puzzle via a newspaper ad -- "seeking bassist and drummer who enjoy Husker Du and Peter, Paul and Mary" -- and thus dependable drummer David Lovering and bubbly bassist Kim Deal were brought into the fold.

Francis' songwriting approach was raw, primitive and instantly approachable all at once. Pop hooks buried themselves in the fuzzy, drum-heavy production of Surfer Rosa, with its muted verses and blast-your-head-off choruses and the manic energy of all four band members imbued the songs with an inimitable charm. Doolittle was the group's White Album, a smorgasbord of song varieties, spawning indie "hits" like "Debaser," "Here Comes Your Man," and "Monkey Gone To Heaven."

By 1990's Bossanova, Francis and the group had enveloped themselves in a cloud of marijuana smoke, but as the production grew crisper and shinier, the guitars and vocals wailed even louder. Still, a muted sense of pop perfection took hold of the group's music like determined ivy burrowing under a tree's bark. Also creeping under the band's skin was the growing tension between the talented songwriter Deal, whose side-band the Breeders recorded its debut album around this time, and Francis, whose indie megalomania (think: an alternative-rock Roger Waters) kept pushing Deal into a "backing-vocals and bass" position in the Pixies.

Trompe Le Monde proved to be the group's swan song, as its subsequent tour and even an opening slot on U2's Zoo TV tour could not pull the by-now indie darlings back into the tight unit they once were. Francis decided a change would do him good, and recorded his debut as Frank Black before breaking the news of the Pixies' demise via a press release. Deal, seemingly unperturbed, was recording another album at the time -- the Breeders' "Last Splash" -- which would wind up out-selling each of the Pixies' albums and Francis' future solo efforts as well.

But six years was enough to leave a legacy few of the Pixies' era can match. Case in point: a little album released two weeks before Trompe Le Monde, called Nevermind, was described by its creator (one Cobain) to have been a collection of "Pixies rip-offs." 'Nuff said.

Albums by this artist

Trompe Le Monde (1991)

Bossanova (1990)

Doolittle (Recommended) (1989)

Surfer Rosa (Recommended) (1988)

Come On Pilgrim (1987)

Features

Pixies: The NATN Pantheon
Published March 1, 2007

Pixies

Surfer Rosa

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» MARK T.R. DONOHUE | STAFF WRITER

NATN Recommended Pixies Surfer Rosa 4AD, 1988 RiYL: Nirvana, The Velvet Underground, Sonic Youth, R.E.M.

There are some records that, as you listen to them, you can practically hear the sound of a hundred bands starting. Surfer Rosa is one of the most prominent examples. Although the Pixies weren't the first ones to do this sort of angular, awkward, abrasive, but accessible music, they were the first ones to do it this well, and no doubt a thousand aspiring Frank Blacks were on the phone with their female bass-playing friends well before Surfer Rosa even finished spinning for the first time in their CD players.

Although it doesn't possess all that many real songs past "Gigantic," "Bone Machine," and the colossal "Where Is My Mind?", Surfer Rosa is more a record about a sound than songwriting, and as cultivated by the soon-to-be ubiquitous Steve Albini, this album beats one about the head with it. A seemingly never-ending stream of remarkable four-note basslines emerges from Kim Deal's instrument, Joey Santiago's guitar woozily careens over it, Black Francis begins wheedling, and college radio listeners nationwide reach for their wallets. Rock.

The secret of Surfer Rosa is that a little originality goes a long way. The album's songs aren't that far left-of-the-center -- they're just odd enough to make you take notice, and just normal enough that you'll have no trouble singing along. Visionaries and critics alike may complain that the real genius bands get ignored while the less innovative, more digestible bands sell the records, but so what? Music ought to be fun sometimes, and the Pixies are a fun band. Or at least as fun as a band whose frontman has a peculiar worldview centering around Spanish babbling, Dali films, and ritual mutilation can possibly be.

Now virtually every indie rock band in existence (with the possible exception of Godspeed You Black Emperor!) owes something to the Pixies, a contention confirmed by the recent Glue Factory tribute album which featured fifteen bands whose Pixies covers hardly diverged from the originals and yet didn't sound all that unlike the bands covering them either. Consequentially, a first-time Pixies listener today probably won't be as stunned by their music as those folk back in the late '80s were. But isn't that the very definition of "revolutionary?"

MARK T.R. DONOHUE | Mark T.R. Donohue is a prolific freelance writer whose areas of expertise include Rockies baseball, video games, genre television, English soccer, and pub rock. He lives in Colorado, where he cultivates the largest and creepiest private collection of Alyson Hannigan memorabilia in the Mountain West.