I found a documentary about the Pixies on Netflix WatchNow the other night. Being of the right generation to appreciate such a thing and the right degree of lacking other plans, I decided I would have a look see. The movie was called LoudQUIETloud and it was really, really boring. That doesn’t mean it was bad. In fact, it might have been too good. A documentary is journalism, after all, and the measure for good journalism is accuracy. What became painfully clear through the watching of LoudQUIETloud is that the Pixies, an absolutely brilliant band that defined an era of musical innovation, are four of the most boring motherfuckers you will ever have to spend two hours with.
It was either Peter Buck or David Byrne who famously said of the Velvet Underground that only a thousand people bought the first album, but each one of those people immediately went out and started a band. It was that observation, almost more than the Velvets themselves, that started a whole genre of Rock N’ Roll. In my day it was called Alternative, but Avante Garde, Punk (including proto and post), or New Wave it always boils down to the same thing: Music that was so shocking and so ahead of its time that it is more influential than successful. This has been such a strong trend in the pop era that it constitutes a third leg of modern culture, beyond music and into TV (Arrested Development), film (The Big Lebowski) and new media (TBTL). And certainly there were people who were ahead of the curve before the advent of mass media, but that ends up being a different discussion. The point is, Rock N’ Roll is the context we started with and that is where this post is going to return and the splitting of the monolith into a trinity can be called at the late sixties. The division of labor was thus: The Beatles make you fall in love, The Stones get you laid, The Velvet Underground makes you try something kinky.
try it, you'll like it
The Pixies were of the Velvet Underground lineage. A roaring force that only a few heard, but those few immediately started bands of their own. Though they clearly had their roots in things that had come before, Iggy Pop, Elvis Costello, Joy Division,Husker Du, The Pixies had a sound that was so original and consistent that their essential “Newness” was undeniable. On the other side of their career, their influence was just as powerful. Bands like Weezer, The Strokes, The Old 97s, Spoon, Franz Ferdinand, none of these acts would have a foundation to stand on without them. We know this because Kurt Cobain said so. When they broke up it was with almost no explanation. The band just ceased and the members went onto other projects that didn’t have as much impact.
Then there was the inevitable reunion, which is what LoudQUIETloud chronicles. The movie does answer some lingering questions about the break up. Some part of it was that Kim Deal wanted to have more creative influence and resented the strict control Black Francis had over the proceedings. But more important was that the Pixies were simply four people who, in spite of making amazing music together, simply couldn’t communicate. The bond they had musically didn’t seem to translate into a bond personally. And it never did. That is where the documentary starts and where it stays. Anytime the band isn’t on stage or rehearsing, they are sitting around not talking. Two hours of four people not talking. As individuals they lack interest as well. Black Francis wanders the screen, expressionless. Kim Deal is a basket case in the way that anyone who is mildly depressed and has read too many self help books and been in too many programs usually is. Joey Santiago has a family and David Lovering tried his hand at being a magician which is as close as any of them get to having a personality. All of this flies in the face of Pop mythology. We have come to expect our geniuses to be tortured and their interactions to be full of high drama. Drugs and weird sex and life endangering misadventures is what we are supposed to get from our rock stars. With the Pixies we just get awkward middle age which, from all appearances, seems to be an extension of awkward youth.
Don’t see LoudQUIETloud. Not because it is poorly done, it’s fine. But just because these are not compelling people. Buy every album, get the box set, see the next tour. The music is what matters. In this case, it is the only thing that does.
It was an album with boobies on it. GROUNDBREAKING!
