There are two main schools of influence when it comes to rock and roll music.
The broader category influences individuals. They're the bands that get other people to become musicians. From massive acts to local favs, this group can be all-encompassing. How many thousands of folks picked up a guitar because they grew up on the Beatles or Nirvana? Far too many to count. But a band no one's ever heard of can be just as influential — maybe it's a hometown punk band that your friend was in that never released music but you thought, "Hey if they can do it, I probably can too."
It's the type of influence that Brian Eno touched on when he talked about the Velvet Underground: "The first Velvet Underground record sold only 30,000 copies in its first five years. Yet, that was an enormously important record for so many people. I think everyone who bought one of those 30,000 copies started a band!"
The rarer influence comes in the form of lasting sonic impact — bands that create a sound that becomes part of the fabric of the genre itself. The heaviness of metal music can be directly linked to Black Sabbath guitarist Tony Iommi having to tune lower to play with fingers he lost the tips of in an industrial accident. Kraftwerk's early krautrock established electronic music. The power chord simplicity of the Ramones is still being aped. Rock guitar playing forever became more of a technical endeavor thanks to Van Halen. Groups like this also fit the first category, but more importantly they created sonic shifts that are now inherent in music's DNA.
Pixies certainly fit in the latter category.
Bursting onto the scene with a howling fervor with 1988's alt-rock touchstone Surfer Rosa, the Boston-formed band set the template for "loud-quiet-loud" rock, where creeping verses explode into massive noisy choruses (or vice versa). That dynamic went on to be key to massive groups like Nirvana and Modest Mouse. The style presented an ideal balance of melodicism and ferocity. The group would go on to perfect that sonic realm on 1989's classic Doolittle, with tracks like the album-closing "Gouge Away" setting the template while also standing on their own as amazingly overwhelming bursts of angsty rage.
The quartet was a true sum of its parts: frontman Black Francis acting as the barking force of nature hollering out macabre lyrics, bassist Kim Deal serving as heart to counterbalance the fury (Deal departed the band in 2013, eventually replaced by Argentinian Paz Lenchantin), drummer David Lovering was tasked with keeping the chaos in order, and guitarist Joey Santiago employed an uncanny sense for finding his space in a song — could be a sinister little riff, could be huge chords, could be pushing forward the mediant major chord progression (for the music nerds out there).
So what's been Santiago's process when crafting such influential guitar work? Honestly? Kinda just winging it.
"The recording process, on my end, it's always been work for me. Because I'm not really hip on the theory at all," Santiago remarks. "[Being too theory-based] kind of takes the mystery out of it, you know? It's almost like looking at a recipe. I don't cook with a recipe, that's for sure. I'd rather paint than do math."
Santiago is particularly fond of the Pixies at its "weirdest," during early '90s era of the group's third and fourth albums, Bossa Nova and Trompe le Monde era. So it shouldn't come as a shock that when the Pixies hit Europe in spring 2024, the band will be playing both of those records in full.
"I was listening to Trompe le Monde, and there's a lot of guitar lines there that sound like Middle Eastern stuff," says the Philippines-born Santiago. "And unbeknownst to me, I was using these scales and modes. It's like, 'Oh, no wonder it sounds like that.'"
The latest output from the Pixies comes in the form of the 2022 LP Doggerel. And while some fans of the band automatically discount anything the Pixies do since Deal left the band (Deal rules, but frustrations certainly shouldn't be directed at Lenchantin), Doggerel shows that Pixies still have some bite. Sure, there's not the same level of youthful tenacity as found on Surfer Rosa, but that should be a given — Francis, Santiago and Lovering are all 35 years older. While the new stuff might not go down in the Pixies' pantheon, only the sourest "fans" would cringe listening to it.
"In the end, we just don't want to suck, you know? That's always been the goal," says Santiago. "We've never really planned on a sound, and if we do, it just goes by the wayside."
Pixies also is not one of the acts that's oblivious to what the fans want from the concert experience. The band has made some iconic albums, and folks frankly want to hear their old favs more than a total onslaught of the new tunes. On a basic level, as a music fan himself, Santiago fully understands that and aims to please.
"We keep it fresh, but it's really out of our hands after we record it. It's really what people are gonna think," says Santiago. "And, hey, I'm biased when legendary bands put out an album. I love the Rolling Stones, but c'mon — give me 'Jumping Jack Flash' if I paid $800 to see you. I wanta hear 'Gimme Shelter,' you know?"
And while letting the Pixies choose their own set list still seems like a safe and winning proposition, let's be glad Santiago and Co. aren't running our city affairs. At some point, Pixies efficiency might overstep its bounds.
"I think Spokane... you guys should drop that e on the end. It confuses me. What the f—k is that e doing at the end, man?" says Santiago. "The Pixies would drop that. We keep it simple." ♦
Modest Mouse, Pixies, Cat Power • Wed, Sept. 6 at 6 pm • $149-$184 • Spokane Pavilion • 574 N. Howard St. • spokanepavilion.com
