Pixies returned to Galicia without nerves and emotions

It was more or less at the end of the first third of the concert. The Pixies made it clear that this was not going to be their night. After weaving a block of new songs that became eternal, Frank Black took the microphone: “Hey!” Everyone understood. It was time to travel to that mythical piece Doolittle (1989), clench your fist and prepare for delirium. I couldn’t miss it. But he failed. Everything remained more or less the same. The sound (much better in the first part of the recital) covers the guitar Joey Santiago. The singer reluctantly interprets the theme. And the frustration of many who began to assume it What had once been nerves, scratches and the urge to break a window has resurfaced as something that invites anything but losing your head and getting drunk.

No, his performance yesterday at the Coliseum in A Coruña will not be like his great display in 2019 at the same venue. By approach, node and outcome. Nothing was right. As much as the Pixies want to show that they are a live band with fresh material, distributing it the way they did (putting eight new songs in a row and then two packages) is pointless. It caused only astonishment. When part of the public already switched off and started talking until “acquaintance”, the circle was closed. When returning to the past, levers were activated like springs to record the game with a mobile phone. But neither are unmistakable pieces like Gouge Away (stretched at the beginning in vain) or Planet of sound (no edge, no power, no soul) confirmed their status as a winning advantage. By comparison, their versions of the 2019 concert paled.

The recital began with a group that called for stark black and white Surfer Pink (1988). early come It seemed to pierce the heart, but something was wrong. Happy rescue Ana it came loose. AND Here’s your man it sounded like a bruised classic, one that the band is tired of singing. Later, newer topics appeared (Get the simulation, haunted house...) up to the above hey

Despite the spinning of the head, pushing with colleagues, the desire to have a good time and depreciator, tame and Directly (once sharp knives, yesterday without a blade) there was no choice but to accept what was happening with great resignation. Kind of like those reunions of old friends recreating glorious nights from another era. But yes, little by little, they begin to be unable to hide the warmth of their present, while the first yawners who discover it run away. With the slight disturbance it produced Where is my mind? before the end, version of winter country Neil Young closed the reunion with a taste of disappointment. Even more that it is a myth that they are.