If Minneapolis seems like a remote locale for a rock-and-roll resurrection–why not Boston, the Pixies’ birthplace?–that was probably the idea. When you’re trying to scrape away 12 years of rust, you do it someplace only the intrepid will follow. But the way the Pixies sounded on Tuesday, they would’ve dazzled anyone anywhere. They blasted through 27 songs in 90 minutes, hitting hardest their first two albums, 1988’s “Surfer Rosa” and 1989’s “Doolittle,” and they played with the precision of a band that had never skipped a day. Reunion shows can leave a hollow feeling–the vaguely pitiful sense of watching ghosts. But the Pixies beat the rap because their music still feels so fresh: any one of their albums could come out tomorrow.
Some things have changed. Thompson, looking more like a doughy, demented Mr. Clean with each passing year, is no longer the only bald one: lead guitarist Joey Santiago surprised the crowd with his cueball. And the uncompromising Pixies of old are candid about the impurity of their motives now: all four members (bassist Kim Deal and drummer David Lovering round out the band) are nearing 40, and they’re in this for the money. Fine–just as long as they played. After closing out a seven-song encore, the group gathered at the front of the stage for a bow. Deal, who grinned through the entire show, shook every hand she could reach. Thompson, always the mercurial one, stood frozen with a self-conscious smile. Maybe he knew that each show after this one would feel a little less perfect. Or maybe he just wasn’t ready to leave.
