The Pixies may not have had the fame they deserved during their original tenure, but they’re making up for lost time now, for Birmingham’s O2 Academy is packed to a point that even the most basic movement is difficult.
Full it may be, but there’s an atmosphere that combines intense excitement at what we’re about to witness and, somewhat perversely, a sort of zen-like calm that sees people getting along despite the cramped conditions. It should go without saying, considering the legacy of the Pixies, but their audiences are cool.
Tonight, the band are here to celebrate both a catalogue that is embedded in their fans’ memories and excellent new album, The Night The Zombies Came, of which they play seven of the thirteen tracks on offer – and it says much of the band’s quality control that the new pieces slot in as if they’ve always been there.
The place is already full by the time we arrive. Sadly, we miss Big Special who, by all accounts, put on an impressive opening performance. With the crowd pushing right to the very back of the O2, it’s difficult to get from one place to another, and a heavy fug hangs over the crowded pit, with steam swirling in the blazing lights. If anyone is uncomfortable, however, they have no interest in showing it, and the cheer that goes up as the lights go down is both deafening and sustained.
Eschewing phony stage moves, the Pixies saunter on, seemingly oblivious of the chaos they are in the process of unleashing, and launch into Cecilia Ann, which triggers a spontaneous bout of moshing all around the venue. They follow it up with a rapid-fire run of career-best tracks including Monkey Gone To Heaven, Wave Of Mutilation and Planet Of Sound (YES!). From the start, the band sound utterly immense, with a pristine mix rendering each and every song devastating, especially the rabid Planet Of Sound, although the audience still do their level best to match the torrential volume flooding from the stage.
Having firmly brought the audience on side, the band dig into the new album (which, for the most part, the audience seem to know as well as the classics), giving us Chicken and Jane, as well as a cut from Indie Cindy in the form of Snakes. These new pieces may be slightly more relaxed in their delivery – which is a relief considering the soaring temperatures – but they’re no less inventive, and they showcase a band navigating their fourth decade with integrity and ambition firmly intact.
With the audience showing no signs of flagging, the band hit hard with another blast of classics – Gouge Away, Subbacultucha, Distance Equals Rate Times Time (a surprise deep cut from Trompe Le Monde), Hey – with Frank having to resort to slightly odd phrasing to shake the increasingly vocal audience loose – and a stunning Caribou, which has lost none of the quirky brilliance that first captured people’s attention back on Come On Pilgrim.
A quick nod to the present comes in the form of Mercy Me (a highlight from the new album) and Motoroller, before new bassist Emma Richardson leads us by the hand through the dark hallways of David Lynch’s eerie In Heaven. It’s followed by Death Horizon (from Beneath The Eyrie), which wrongfoots the audience with its Here Comes Your Man opening chord. That’s just the band’s sense of humour, however, and they follow it with exactly that track, triggering possibly the night’s biggest singalong in the process.
There’s still more to come. Where Is My Mind?, Velouria, and The Happening keep the audience on their toes, while The Vegas Suite and Primrose sit right alongside them, underscoring once more the brilliant tunes that lie at the heart of The Night The Zombies Came.
With sweat dripping from the venue’s blackened walls and the crowd all but hoarse, the Pixies bring the night to a thunderous close with four crushing tracks, three of which find Frank pushing his voice to its limits. It starts with an ecstatic Bone Machine, a song that basically kickstarted the whole quiet/loud formula with its harrowing screams and quirky melodies. Then we get Debaser and, just to seal the deal, an utterly ferocious Tame. Finally, with the house lights flickering on, it’s left to Emma to bring the night to a close with a stunning Into The White.
And that’s it. No encores, no grandstanding – just four individuals who shyly bow, their grins saying more than any closing speech could achieve.
It’s the perfect end to a perfect show, and all that’s left is for the shattered audience to find their way out into the rainy Birmingham night, most too overawed by the spectacle to do much other than stagger back to their cars.
