“With your feet in the air and your head on the ground/ Try this trick and spin it/ Your head will collapse, but there’s nothing in it/ And you’ll ask yourself: Where is my mind?” So goes the absorbing first verse of the Pixies’ most recognizable song “Where Is My Mind?”
On Friday, November 6 I got the opportunity to venture into L.A. and hear these lyrics and many more live from the Pixies themselves at their concert at the Hollywood Palladium. Formed in 1986 in Boston, the Pixies are one of the most notable groups to come from the post-punk movement of that decade, but their specific musical style is fairly difficult to pin-point. They oscillate and hang somewhere in the realm of hard rock; their guitar sound can be somewhat abrasive and intense, singing of bloodshed and mutilation in a way that is reminiscent of such seminal bands as Husker Du and Iggy Pop, but, on the same token, they have a variety of songs that are arranged with an easier tone, more reminiscent of the New Wave music of the early 80s.
However you choose to define their sound, it’s undeniable that the Pixies have an uncanny ability to create a sort of lyrical irony; using somewhat absurd lyrics to convey very real observations and desires. It is this particular characteristic that drew me to the Pixies when I first heard them, and it is no surprise that Kurt Cobain named them one of his greatest influences when crafting Nirvana’s debut album Bleach.
I first heard about the concert when some promoter on a street in L.A. shoved a postcard in my hand. Tired and disgruntled I shoved it in my bag, and discovered it days later crushed between the pages of one of my textbooks. So goes the story, a friend and I bought tickets, and three different train rides later, we arrived at the concert. Due to the pangs of our stomachs and the conveniently located In ‘N’ Out, we missed the opening act, No Age, but we made it in time for the Pixies and that’s all that mattered. We walked in, and did the most embarrassing thing possible: we purchased band-specific concert merchandise before the show had even started (the lines get so long after the concert!)
After discreetly shoving the shirt in my bag, we decided we should find a spot. Even though the Pixies are probably better enjoyed from the midst of a large mosh pit, I decided to sacrifice the experience for the comforts of the balcony. I got upstairs and found a spot right at the front of the balcony, attempting to wedge myself between a mellow Swedish couple and an aggravating girl in her early 20s who, despite all the room she had, wouldn’t let me squeeze next to her. Witnessing my attempts to move the girl over, a boozy 30-year-old yelled at me, “God gave you that butt for a reason! Push that girl over! Knock her dead!” Taking her advice, I was able to get myself into the front of the balcony, establishing the perfect spot.
From there, it was a Pixies fan’s bliss. The lights went down, and all that was illuminated were four huge lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Then, large screens hanging from the back of the stage started playing clips from the silent French surrealist film Un Chien Andalou, a 16 minute silent film most noted for its haunting imagery of a woman’s eyeball getting sliced, her breasts being groped, and another woman being hit by a car. It is this same haunting and weird yet thought-provoking imagery that acts as the inspiration for the song “Debaser,” so as a fan I appreciated the nod, though I am sure that many in the audience were left perplexed. I’ll also add that I felt slightly privileged to have learned about the movie in my Language of Film class only three days earlier.
Then came the music, which was absolutely unbelievable; I wish I could sufficiently explain the sensation I was overcome with at how good it was. The concert’s main focus was songs from their 1989 album Doolittle, which reached near perfection because of its lyrical and melodic variety yet cohesiveness. The crowd went wild at the high spirited songs such as “There Goes My Gun” and “Tame”—the insanity of the moshing below provided sufficient entertainment for the Swedes next to me, who would point and chuckle every time somebody tried to crowd surf or was hit in the face. Even within the midst of the chaos I couldn’t help but thoroughly enjoy the concert from the beginning all the way through the two encores.
While you might not catch them live on this tour, you can do the next best thing and invest in their records.