A decade is a long time to wait for a Pixies reunion. It seemed even longer at the end of a nine-hour day of bands pumping out everything from indie to alt-country to funk, gospel, reggae, hip-hop, power pop and more, all under a cloudless sky in near 100-degree heat here in one of the country’s best-known music towns.
But that’s what tens of thousands of sweat-soaked fans did at massive Zilker Park, home of the third annual Austin City Limits Music Festival, which is quickly becoming one of the nation’s most prominent music fests.
The three-day palooza, which drew more than 75,000 from all over the country, wrapped up Sunday night. It featured a whopping 120 headliners on eight stages, including Wilco, Elvis Costello, Ben Harper, Sheryl Crow, Ryan Adams, Jack Johnson, Franz Ferdinand, and Chicago’s newest national breakout star, Rachael Yamagata.
Begun in 2002 and based on the legendary new artist TV showcase, “Austin City Limits,” the ACL fest has quickly grown, drawing top talent from all musical genres. It is now on par with the town’s longtime premiere South By Southwest fest and certainly holds its own among the country’s most influential fests.
The Pixies–Saturday’s top draw, and set for an unprecedented five-night Chicago tour stop in the fall–reunited in the spring and are riding high, landing on magazine covers, facing frenzied fans nightly and selling out shows across the country. It was no different here as pandemonium erupted when drummer David Lovering thundered the opening blasts to “Bone Machine.”
It’s too bad the band (which influenced a wave of rock bands in the ’90s, most notably Nirvana–Kurt Cobain even acknowledged “Smells Like Teen Spirit” borrowed heavily from the Pixies’ trademark loud/soft formula) couldn’t absorb the crowd’s energy. Even performing in front of one of the biggest audiences on its reunion tour, the group couldn’t muster much enthusiasm on stage.
Guitarist Joey Santiago stood nearly still; bassist Kim Deal was almost as motionless, save for smoking cigarette after cigarette. The exception was Lovering, who pounded his way through the hourlong set. Even frontman Frank Black (or has he reverted back to Black Francis?) remained aloof, playing as if the Pixies were rehearsing alone in a garage somewhere in the band’s native Boston. As Black screeched the climax to cult classic “Monkey Gone To Heaven”–“If the devil is six, then God is seven!”–it sounded more like rote noise rather than a writhing anthem.
The band did display mild interest early in its set during a four-song hit parade of “Subbacultcha,” “Umass,” Wave of Mutilation” and “Crackity Jones,” but the passion quickly evaporated.
A dynamic stage presence isn’t necessary for a great live concert, but how about at least faking some interest, guys? By the time the band hits Chicago’s Aragon in November, it needs to do some serious soul searching: Did it reunite for a new generation of fans, as it has claimed? For the music? For the adoration? Or for the paycheck?
Here’s hoping for at least a semi-noble reason and an energized set of shows.
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Edited by Cara DiPasquale (cdipasquale@tribune.com) and Kris Karnopp (kkarnopp@tribune.com)
