The Pixies at the Tower Theater

It was with a tinge of sadness that Mr. DS and I walked down 69th St. in Upper Darby; we're getting to that stage where we realize that each concert may be "the last one". You can probably relate; you focus on your career, go back to school, maybe start a family or a cat rescue, your favorite artists sell-out or blow their heads off…attending concerts just drops to the bottom of the list of priorities. Then there are other little things like how the music industry as a whole is just a big machine, with no more moral high ground than any big pharma or oil company anymore. Purchasing tickets has become an adventure in racketeering. Simply put, there are easier ways to spend a Tuesday night.

But when I found out that the Pixies were actually coming to Philadelphia, I broke down and I had to go. They are really the last vestige of music as I remember it being when I was just out of school, very broke, totally prodigal, with more good years ahead of me than behind me. But a lot of time has passed and things happened to all of us: loved ones got sick, people we cared for died, we got divorced, we lost touch with friends or lost friendships altogether, we got fired from jobs or had to look for new jobs. The Pixies and I have more in common now than we did 20 years ago. And that's why I went.

So they played some B-sides and the entire Doolittle album which was cool on one hand, but totally reeked of path of least resistance on the other (20th anniversary not withstanding). But path of least resistance is what it's all about when you get to that certain stage of your life when you just don't want surprises anymore…because when you get past 40, most of the surprises ahead of you are not good ones. I did sense that the band was not totally into what they were doing. They seemed glad enough to be there, but they really didn't interact with the crowd – I mean come on, this was the opening show of the tour, you can't be tired of it already. But yeah, you can. Some people can come to work every day on auto-pilot and still do a pretty damn good job because they are so good at what they do and they've done it for so long that it doesn't require full engagement. They've got it down to a science. The Pixies, after playing since the 80's, have got it down to a science. They didn't need to work too hard at it because they know they're good and they know we know they are good. I'm willing to cut them some slack for that. On the other hand, they did give me what I came there for…loud music written by folks from a generation who didn't think they would still be here by now.

For those of you who missed it, here's the set list:
Dancing the Manta Ray
Bailey's Walk
Weird at My School
Manta Ray
Debaser
Tame
Wave of Mutilation
I Bleed
Here Comes Your Man
Monkey Gone to Heaven
Mr. Grieves
Crackity Jones
La La Love You
No. 13 Baby
There Goes My Gun
Hey
Silver
Gouge Away

Encore 1:
Wave of Mutilation (UK Surf)
Into the White

Encore 2:
Nimrod's Son
Isla de Encanta
Vamos
Where is My Mind?