Less than a week from now, Pixies will return to the Aragon Ballroom. It’s not clear which band member needs the money this time around, but it is clear that Chicago Pixies fans had enough pent up demand to merit adding a third show.
Now when you listen to albums released in 1989, you are transported — back to wearing cutoff jean shorts with black tights, when old men were Presidents, Norm’s ass was always firmly planted on a Cheers barstool, and phones had cords. Here’s what we were listening to in 1989:
The Replacements – Don’t Tell A Soul
2 Live Crew – As Nasty As They Wanna Be
Indigo Girls – Indigo Girls
Madonna – Like A Prayer
The Stone Roses – The Stone Roses
Richard Marx – Repeat Offender (Really??? His agents couldn’t have had some foresight on that one?)
Nirvana – Bleach
Don Henley – The End of The Innocence
Chris Isaak – Heart Shaped World
Soundgarden – Louder than Love
Pixies – Doolittle
With the exception of Bleach, maybe, there’s not a single piece of work above other than Doolittle that doesn’t seem dated and entirely of its time, regardless of how good it is.
Doolittle now seems at once legendary and fresh. If it dropped today, music bloggers would lose their collective shit (and wake up from their Animal Collective induced stupors, pun intended) to fall all over this album. It’s got the lo-fi noise pop (Dead), the spacey, airy model dirge (Silver), and devastatingly crushing bookends (Debaser, Gouge Away). In between are the art-pop hooks that the Flaming Lips always wanted to write, but had to build stage cinema around to provide relevance for instead (sorry Lips fans).
Needless to say, I’m excited. You’ll see me on Friday at the Aragon standing in my chinos, shirt pulled off clean.