The Pixies were among three or four bands that got me through high school. I’ve probably listened to Doolittle as much or more than any other record in the history of music. Today’s release of a new song, “Bagboy,” came as a total shock to me and it would seem the rest of the music-loving world. With a low buzzing synth riding under a mix of thin loops, whining guitar, and Black Francis’ underwhelming, chanted vocals, “Bagboy” staggers forward for over four minutes, kicking out a big chorus with competing male and female vocals that’s clearly the song’s high point.
People have commented on Pop Press International’s slant toward positivity, and it’s mostly because we just write about songs we like and decline to comment on those we don’t. However, my deep and long lasting love of the Pixies compels me to say something here. I can’t even begin to describe the horror I felt when I heard the band’s last original song “Bam Thwok” and “Bagboy” is a clear improvement. It showcases that penchant for swirling instrumentation and austere melodies the Pixies have always possessed. However, most of the song is flat and thin and at its worst sounds like a rocked up version of 90s alternative band Cake. Black Francis is missing all the vitriol and agression that made him magnificent. And Kim Deal is no longer in the band, which is a heartbreaker.
I could make guesses about the promise of new cashflow, band instability, or aging sense of judgement, but in reality I have no idea what compels the Pixies to put out a new song once each decade or why both have been cheap, fading echoes of the greatness that once was. And if that’s a little harsh, it’s only coming from a place of deep love for a band that I easily place in my top 10 of all time. I can’t believe I haven’t seen more reaction so far this morning. Even several of the most critically relentless sites have basically just reposted this quote from Black Francis:
“The lyrics, coincidentally, were composed at a Starbucks Coffee in Harvard Square in Cambridge, about a hundred feet from where, 25 years ago, I composed some of the lyrics to an old Pixies song called ‘Break My Body.’ Twenty-five years later, some Starbucks in Harvard Square…I thought that was kind of interesting. The music for the song has been around for a few years. There are some demos I made with Joey and David a few years ago in Los Angeles, related to a film idea that still has yet to see the light of day, although work on the music continued. So a lot of the musical idea had been kicking around for awhile. It’s pretty simple, kind of a blues-based, two-note kind of thing, really.”
Much like The Stooges’ fiasco of The Weirdness, The Pixies risk legacy with far less than par new material. However, it has only been two songs, and we must not forget the invaluable contribution with which these pioneers blessed indie rock. Deal’s departure is of more consequence than a mediocre at best new track, and the band’s live shows simply won’t be The Pixies anymore. I’m thankful to have seen them four times since their reformation, and plan on submerging myself in the cleansing waters of The Pixies back catalogue today after the mire of “Bagboy.”
