post punk opera house

Another excellent show at Oakland's lovely Fox Theater. This time it was the Pixies running through the whole of "Doolittle" for unknown reasons other than, what the hell? It's a better living than writing death notices? I dunno. I tried not to think too much about the enterprise of reforming for gigs like this. I'm cynical and my cynicism (or resistance to everything sez F) gets me nowhere, including not seeing the newly re-formed Pixies a couple years ago as they apparently destroyed Berkeley's Greek Theater.  I believe I was invited to that show but declined. I was getting sick of all the good bands who broke up getting back together as their older selves just to take us all down memory lane. Yech! I'd been mostly burned by this kind of show before: the sad reunion of Television in San Francisco saw them sloppy and unrehearsed; Gang of Four? Totally irrelevant and way tuckered out by the end of the night (not that I could play "I Found that Essence Rare" at the end of a long gig at my age... but you see, I don't attempt such!) Only the mighty Mission of Burma seemed to have a reason and the energy to come back: they were writing new songs! They wanted to rock. They fucking rehearsed and saw that they were good. Plus they stayed in pretty good shape. I mean, your humble narrator has aged and thickened and greyed and thinned, and yes, I bet if I wanted to I could get out there and start rocking again. But god help the sad geezers who've taken the stage in their fat, bald incarnations to less than hilarious results. Devo, I'm looking at you! Throbbing Gristle? Its not even fair to talk about it. The Pixies? 

Honestly, as much as I loved that band, I didn't want my excellent memories of seeing them – numerous times – including their famed appearance at Pittsburgh's The Decade, a bar where maybe 100 people, if that many, saw them play way, way back. That's when I fell in love with the Pixies and of course with Kim Deal's eyes. She was literally a pixie for god's sake with mischievous eyes and sweet singing voice and impeccable bass playing. As was evident that night and is still evident: the Pixies sound seems to be greater than the sum of their parts. in blowhard art historical terms that is usually considered sublime.  Maybe this is because they took the time not only to write killer songs but arrange them as well. Who did that back then? The whole vaunted "loud quiet loud" aesthetic was only part of it. The arrangements are key. Listen to how guitar parts come and out, trade melody duty, echo earlier riffs and later riffs, drum drop and reenter, bass takes the melody then the beat. Hell, Oliver Nelson couldn't have done it better himself.  

So it was good. And stayed good for a good amount of time. No complaints. Then, as almost always happens, the Pixies then seemed to run their course.  That's okay, know when to stop, know when to move on. Not a tragedy. That's part of the art of the game. Get out before it gets bad. Plus we still had Kim and the Breeders, and Frank Black and his many, many solo releases, which filled the Pixie void in my life, all of which I bought eagerly and loved and saw The Catholics and Frank Black and Black Francis and Charles Thompson and anything else the dude would do many, many times.  I related to the guy.  Big guy, fat fingers, about my age, my milieu. With all the good stuff he was doing, Charles in particular didn't seem to need a Pixies reunion, so I was suspicious. I'm sure he coulda used the money. I'm sure he was sick of the thousands of bands making it big emulating his riffs and arrangements and making a buck. But did the Pixies have new songs? No. Did they miss each other and were burning to get back as a band and play live? No.  So I resisted. Opted out.

Then a few documentaries on the Pixies came out, one about the reunion, which supports what I just said; the other about their strange synergy and legacy and so on. Very candid films, unflattering a lot of the time. Charles letting all the girth hang out, dysfunctional family dynamics, the oddness of Kim and Kelly Deal, the bizarreness of David Lovering, etc. These films though made me all very nostalgic about the Pixies, and aware of how special and wonderful a band they were, and made me damn my own contrary eyes for not going to see them at the god damn Greek Theater in Berkeley, even though I don't like seeing shows at the Greek too much, as I don't like baking on a concrete slab in the hot sun for hours, being penned in with very little access to expensive beer or bathroom etc., or listening to outdoor PA sound, I still, after seeing the films, and of course listening to "Surfer Rosa" and "Doolittle" a million times, wished I'd been there.

Then the Goblets, that famous art project/social club/zendo/band, which would be myself, Gina M and Courtney C, then snared some decent tix to see our old friends Sonic Youth play at the newly renovated Fox Theater in Oakland. Now of course the Youth haven't re-formed or revamped in any way, they've been there all along, talking the talk, walking the walk for untold years now, although my interest in them waxed and waned many times, and I had to be convinced a bit to see them in 2009 (I try to learn albeit slowly), and was damn glad I went. The Youth were remarkable and fresh and true to their mission, a pleasure to be sure; and the other surprise hit of that evening was the Fox Theater itself! A very plush experience -- one at least the Goblets were unused to in our concert going experience.  The Fox is one of many urban renewal projects just like it all around the country, where people are trying to save and restore these outlandishly beautiful, ornate old movie houses and theaters. Oakland also restored the art deco Paramount down the road to excellent reviews, and there have been similar projects in San Francisco and the East Bay that have spared no expense to get everything right. If you're an architecture buff, you love these places. If you're a history buff, the same.  But now, if you're a punk rock (and all the post punk nomenclature) buff, you can enjoy it along with those hip folks!

At the Youth show I remember thinking: this is just like the symphony and opera that my folks took me to as a kid back there in Pgh: Heinz Hall (which is no longer there?) plush, marble and chandelier, red velvet everything, old school place, which of course gives all proceedings the air of high art. Some of it is bullshit of course, the rich strutting their stuff, trying to snoot up music to unapproachable levels; but part is the seriousness given to the endeavor, the respect for the consumer of live music, and attention to their comfort.  This is what's been missing until now in the post-punk concert world.  A place that treats the whole thing with a bit more respect and intelligence than the down and dirty club, or the once proud, yet aging hall.  Not to discount the charms of both those types of places, but there's a lot to be said about the energy around going to a show at say Heinz Hall in Pgh, or Davies Hall in SF, rather than the Great American or the old Decade. Have we, as a generation finally grown into deserving the royal treatment for our Pixies and Sonic Youth shows?: the courteous staff; the clean, well appointed bathrooms (with sitting lounges even for the dudes, though no dude was sittin' there); the multiple bar areas that actually look like bars, not hospital carts or pissiors, stocked with good beer and liquor and quick service; coat checks and velvet stairs and cup holders and get this: excellent sound. All the stuff that the big kids get when they take in one of their operas or plays or symphonies.

The journey of the theater itself was much like that of a band like the Pixies: youthful grandeur, a heyday; a decline, a falling out; closed down, gone, getting older, poor condition. To bring the Fox back to life was an insanely expensive, politically tangled and near impossible task that only really happened because of the passion of a few people who kept pushing through. The Pixies initial reunion was frought with similar obstacles, yet somebody realized it was a project worth taking on and jumped through the hoops to make it happen. When the two finally met this November, Pixies and the Fox,  sparks literally ignited. Anyone, like me, who resists such reunions or such renovations should take note: sometimes they had it right in the past, ease up on the cynicism... 'cause a lot of times, what is old is more often than not, hot shit again.

Comments

[C. Marshall]

I somehow got ahold of Surfer Rosa back in 88 by default I guess... purchased it at the old Reckless Records on 6th St. I'm quite sure I based my offhanded selection soley on the cool artsy LP cover, the reference to SURF, and a posed topless latina. If I remember correctly I didn't know nary a thing about their music at the time.

Things turned out oh so well, except I never saw the band in their heyday. And I wouldn't go today or tomorrow.

The certainly were one of the best at that particular time...

[skirb]

c. marshall from SBT?? You need to email me brotha! lskirboll@hotmail.com