Bag It Up, Pixies.

Bag It Up, Pixies.

While some of us were busily celebrating about the foot of an ephemeral pinnacle in mercifully sunny Somerset last week like the uncultivated nomads we really all long to one day become, the www. was instead set alight by several fairly substantial releases from some of alternative music’s chief Apostles, the most notable of which was the below – the long overdue return of the Pixies. The first thing heard of them since Kim Deal’s omnipresently reported departure last month and indeed their first burst of activity for nine enervating years, Bagboy is so readily identifiable so as to render it almost retrograde. But make no mistake: this one’s an absolutely quintessential recording for something scribed in a Starbucks and, comprising lyrics of licking “dead things” and a pungent “crock of stew”, it signals a gripping return to significantly more proactive times. Deal’s newly recruited namesake Kim Shattuck – sometimes of slack Californian punks The Muffs – may for the time being relinquish bass duties to allow for Jeremy Dubs to do his thang, but it may well be she who puts on her best impression of her predecessor to coo of the enigmatical “bagboy”, while Black Francis implores you “cover your breath, cover your teeth; Cover your breath, polish your speech” in decidedly Mark Mothersbaugh impersonation. Nonetheless flippant comparisons aside, Bagboy bears hallmarks of nigh on every last Pixies classic: the deep smoulder of Hey; the terse sneer of Gouge Away; the explosive release of Wave Of Mutilation. And it may yet very conceivably become one in its very own right…

Pixies play a couple Hammersmith Apollo dates this coming November.

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