- 11 Oct 22
Dig, For Fire
Legendary status is all very well, and there are few bands who can lay claim to it more than Pixies, quite possibly the most influential rock act to have emerged in the late 80s/early 90s, but goodwill only stretches so far. Getting the band back together is a risky business, there’s always the possibility of tarnishing that reputation. Thankfully, Pixies have sidestepped that hurdle with ease. We will be talking in awe about their recent Irish gigs for a long time to come and now here’s their best record since they decided to climb back into the van.
Chugging guitars and ominous bass herald ‘Nomatterday’ – “I probably irritate you” – which kicks up a gear at about the two minute mark with plenty or heys, woos, and a warning not to “piss in the fountain”. This is what we want. ‘Vault Of Heaven’ has a suitably grand riff from the master Joey Santiago, and a chorus we’ll all be roaring at them when they come back here again. It sounds like a cut from some alt-dimension soundtrack to a spaghetti western directed by Fellini, which is a portal they've opened before, and you don't have to take my word for it either, just have a look at this clip.
‘Dregs Of Wine’ starts with a none-more-Frank-Black aside on his preference for The Kinks' 'You Really Got Me' as opposed a pal's admiration for Van Halen's. We all know relationships have fractured over less, although my own taste includes both snails and oysters, but in this instance they appear to hash it out by drinking those dregs under the Hollywood sign. 'Haunted House' is probably a huge pop hit in that previously mentioned other reality, and songs like ‘There’s A Moon On’ and ‘Pagan Man’ have ‘PIXIES’ written through them like a stick of seaside rock candy. ‘You’re Such A Sadducee’ – a denier of the resurrection at the time of Christ, I looked it up so you don’t have to – swirls around David Lovering hitting his snare drum so hard they should call in a priest to give it the last rights and they save one of the best for last with the title track wherein the mighty Paz Lenchantin's bass locks in with those drums like she's been there all her life.
Okay, Doggerel’s not quite up there with the immortal tetralogy of albums on which their reputation rests - very few records are - but it’s still pretty bloody good. They were right to give it another go.