When I first heard the rumor that the Pixies were considering a reunion I scoffed and said, "yeah, and they'll be playing with The Smiths, I suppose."
Little did I know. By February, the reunion seemed quite official and equally surreal. I was more than a little determined to get my Pixie-lovin'
foot in the door of one of the obscure venues they had decided to book.

Even after all these years, Black Francis has never really managed to rub his greasy fingerprints off my musical psyche. The Pixies were to Alternapunk/Grunge what The Cure was to Fashionably Pessimistic Goth Rock. They may not have invented it, but they put a stamp on it that was so solid you simply couldn't talk about the genre without crediting them for it's rise in popularity. I openly questioned whether a reunion was such a good idea. They couldn't possibly make themselves MORE legendary... they could only chip away at their current God-like status.

Along with thousands of other fans, I was shut out in my first attempt to procure precious tickets to see my past and present musical idols. Have cash, will travel. By the time the news broke that tickets were being sold for a "secret" show at the Fine Line Music Cafe in Minneapolis, the tickets were gone. I blew $400 on Ebay securing two of these tickets and sat around chewing on my fingernails until they arrived.

They arrived... oh boy, did they ever.

A friend and co-worker of mine, Adam Bowen, hopped into my Mitsubishi on the morning of the 13th of April in the year of Our Lord 2004. Tickets in hand, hotel room waiting, full tank of gas and 250 miles from musical bliss, we drove without stopping for so much as a bathroom and munchie break. We arrived in Minneapolis at around 4:00pm and the final four hours before the show seemed somehow longer than the twelve years since the Pixies last recorded an album.

We checked into the Hyatt and walked the Nicolett Mall looking for something interesting to eat. Minneapolis probably has some fine restaurants, but the downtown area is totally devoid of anything remotely resembling ethnic food. The closest we came was a chinese guy selling hot dogs from a stand or an "Italian" restaurant called "The Olive Garden." We had a burger at the Lone Tree Something or Other about a block and a half from the Fine Line... the burger was great... the backside on the bartender was even better. Somehow we blew $28 on two burgers, two beers and a soda. I tipped the barkeep $7...
she was well worth it.

Doors open at 8pm. Expect a line. Guard your ticket with your life. Pixies, Pixies, Pixies. The line looked about how you'd expect it to look. Aging hipsters who weren't fooled by Nirvana and currently had jobs as lawyers or dentists (which is how they could afford the ticket). People had travelled from across the country to witness the spectacle and quite frankly, Mr. Black could have stood up on stage and burped into the mic and the show would have been a success just because he burped NEXT to Kim Deal, Joey Santiago and David Lovering. People were pacing up and down the line offering a couple of hundred dollars for anyone's spare tickets. No one was selling.

We stood for an hour before being herded into the Fine Line. 21 year old Adam got the once over before they reluctantly gave him his "I can drink Beer" wristband. The last moment of nerves ended as the little scanner zipped over the barcode on my ticket and approved me as Pixies qualified. I was in... and suddenly another $40 was sucked from my wallet in the form of two t-shirts (one "death to the Pixies" and one saying "Pixies Sellout"
followed by the tour dates). $50 more was lost at the DiscLive stand and then the bartender raped me for $8.50 for two twelve ounce Leinenkugel's taps. I gave him the left over $1.50... he didn't deserve it.

The Fine Line Music Cafe is a small venue... I wouldn't think it holds more than 300 people on the main floor, but apparently there were 700 tickets sold, so men with brooms crammed bodies into the door until we were all there. One big happy Pixies family reunion. Welcome back, brother... can you get your armpit out of my face? A set of stairs leads up to a narrow second floor walkway which skirts along the wall and widens in the rear of the venue. It probably holds about 75 people, 200 of which were pressed up against the railing anxiously awaiting the music.

By all standards used to judge bands, the opening act "The Capitol Years" was a fine band. That said, no one was there to see them and they knew that full well. The crowd was very polite and recieved them warmly. I think if people had chased them off the stage, they would have understood. They had a cute schtick... the bass player pretended to be horribly bored and at one point they all talked into the mic at the same time... they had that sloppy alternablues thing going on... kind of like a sober and showered "The Strokes."

Man, if you made it this far, you must really love the Pixies.

The Pixies sound crew played a little game with the crowd where they'd set everything up and then disappear... then one of the guys would walk back on stage and everyone would stand on tippy toes to see who it was. He'd futz with something and walk off. Then someone else would come up... repeat, repeat, repeat. After about twenty minutes Kim Deal appeared... AND THEN IT WAS OFFICIAL.

When the Pixies wandered onto the stage, I couldn't help but smile and think to myself "this is the most unlikely bunch of rock stars you will ever see." They weren't young, they weren't attractive, they didn't wear bizarre outfits or have metallic objects hanging from random body parts. They had no makeup, no frilly stage props and no particular strut of "rockstardom." If they had walked onto the stage at your local band hangout, you'd probably do your best to avoid making eye contact with them. Your first impression would be "I bet this is going to suck" and if you'd never heard their music (which has kind of a learning curve to it) you'd probably get up and leave after they began screaching into the microphones.

Kim Deal muttered something into the mic along the lines of "aroigahai." It was either "alright" or "hurray," I can't even tell from the CD. The crowd was sufficiently lathered and the band seemed genuinely pleased. There was no push to the stage, there was no "just add music" mosh pit. The crowd was 500 thirty year olds and they behaved as you would have expected. To an outsider reviewing this show, this crowd may have seemed a bit disconnected, but they were anything but. Everyone knew every word and every song. It was pure magic when the music began. Kim Deal was right on the money with her first note, but the second one came out all wrong. No one cared a whit.

Everyone's been to a concert where everyone cheers for the hits, and then you hear fewer cheers for the lesser known songs. No one paid $300 to see the Pixies because they once heard "that one song" that they liked. It was fans, wall to wall... and real fans, not curious onlookers. The crowd responded with almost perfectly equal fervor to each and every song.

The Pixies played all of their old classics and I, for one, was delighted. I don't think I've listened to "Bossanova" in six months and in the same time I've listened to "Surfer Rosa" about a thousand times. I think they probably should have skipped "Velouria" and completely canned "Bossanova" in the process. I wish they would have played a few more songs off "Trompe le Monde" but people should remember than this was their swansong and presumably things weren't going very well for them when they wrote those songs. They didn't reunite to scratch at scabs and if playing "Planet of Sound" brings back bad memories, I don't blame them for skipping it.

Performances: Kim Deal seemed shaky... other reviews have jumped on her performance in "Gigantic" but I thought it sounded fine. She missed notes off and on throughout the night and it was a tad distracting, but overall, I wouldn't trade the experience for any concert I've ever seen. It was bar none the greatest show I've ever seen... not because of stellar performances, but because of the sheer novelty of what I was witnessing.
Twelve Years. One of the greatest bands that ever was in now back in our midst. An acrimonious split now remedied. Of the group, Kim Deal seemed to be having the best time... she was truly flattered by our response and the thousands who have responded by selling out their shows as fast as the tickets go on sale. Good for her... I don't care if she misses a few notes (though Mr. Black might).

Black Francis/Frank Black seemed a bit detached, but he always seems that way... it was nothing new nor notable and I didn't even really think about it until I saw reviewers jumping to conclusions. It's ridiculous to suggest that he seemed like he didn't want to be there. He was clearly flattered by the crowd and he seemed very happy at times and a bit less so at others. The mix from the sound man was not what it should have been, in my humble opinion (the CD sounds WAY better than the performance did). Maybe he WAS angry with Kim... I think it's just as likely that he was just generally frustrated with the overall sound. Frank wasn't very energetic, but the third chin he's grown is bound to make energetic performance a thing of the past. You can have Frank jumping around for seven songs or performing twenty seven at a relatively calm clip. I'll take the latter. I know this sounds aweful, but I assure you that I worship this man's musical ability in kind of an "alternative John Lennon" kind of way... he's a genius and he can weigh 2000lbs and I'll still admire him.

Joey Santiago looked like a deer caught in headlights. If one of the band members seemed detached, it would be Joey. He DOES have perhaps the most difficult job up there and he hasn't been as active as the others, I think part of it was generally concentration and part of it was simply awe at how much people seemed to miss a band they hardly payed any attention to back when they were active in the 80's and 90's. I think more than any other member, Joey would have been an interesting conversation after the show to hear what was going through his mind. His performance was impeccable...
well, maybe a few minor slips, but overall superb.

David Lovering was there to have a good time and if Frank got grumpy or Kim miffed a few notes, there was no way he was going to let it spoil his party. I think if you polled the band you'd find that he's the happiest of the bunch that the reunion happened. He stood up to check out the audience on occasion... he had a grin the size of Massachussetts on his face for most of the night. He came out into the crowd after the show and mingled a bit (probably looking for some action).

Overall, my impression is that some of the people who have reviewed this show didn't put much thought into their review. They read things into Frank Black's mood that may or may not have been the case. Frank Black seemed exceedingly happy that the Pixies are back and more importantly, very happy that WE were happy that the Pixies are back.

And it's refreshing to see bands go back to their roots through the set list. If I went to a U2 show and all they played were songs off "War" and "Boy" I'd consider myself exceedingly lucky.

I saw the Pixies at the Fine Line Music Cafe in Minneapolis on April 13th, 2004. I'm one of only a few hundred people who can say so, and I'll never forget that show as long as I live. It was the first show in over 12 years for one of the greatest bands that ever was. I have no regrets.

A ticket to see the Pixies at the Fine Line... $200. Hotel room at the Hyatt... $102. T-shirts, stickers and buttons... $50. CD's of the show... $50. Beer and snacks for the evening... $70. Gasoline to get there... $40.
Grand total $512. I would have paid twice that.

(editors note: There were no corrections made to the above review. All grammatical errors, including typing mistakes, were left untouched in an attempt to completely capture the experience of this Pixies fan )