Pixies, O2 Academy Brixton, gig review: Legendary alt-punks return to spiritual home

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Last month, Pixies described London as feeling “like a spiritual home”, and that’s not a surprise. Criminally underappreciated by the American masses during a period of potent creativity in the late Eighties and very early Nineties, it was the UK, and especially the capital, which took notice (Doolittle, the seminal 1989 album, peaked at number 8 in the UK album charts, 90 places higher than in the States).

But if you thought this would prompt on-stage eulogising tonight at O2 Academy Brixton – a venue which itself has been the epicentre of Britain’s adoration of Pixies on many occasions – then you would be wrong. In fact, there is precisely zero on-stage chat – a disappointment for some, perhaps, but outweighed by the fact that this allows the band to storm through no less than 32 songs. The setlist flies between the old and the new, picking from as far back as their 1987 debut, Come On Pilgrim, to a selection of tracks on the forthcoming album, Head Carrier. Of the latter tranche, the belligerent swagger that is “Um Chagga Lagga" compels most. Enlivened by the indefatigable drumming of David Lovering, it’s a punk song that wouldn’t sound of place on an album like Surfer Rosa, and bodes well for this new record.

Older songs like “Tony’s Theme” seem to have grown angrier with age, while others such as “Isla De Encanta” and “Vamos” throw about a thumping weight tonight that’s not present on the hastily recorded studio versions.

The night’s best moments come with cuts from Doolittle. There’s a disquieting tension which snakes its way through the album, frequently rearing its head. And when that tension appears tonight, it reveals its fangs and bites with venom. It’s when frontman Black Francis comes into his own – those heart-stopping staccato grunts on “Hey”, the out-of-nowhere roars on “Tame”. No band does the quiet-loud transition like Pixies, and no song utilises it as well as “Tame”, exploding into the chorus, devolving into a stark bassline beneath unnerving panting, and then back again. “Here Comes Your Man”, somewhat incongruous on the album with its light-hearted folkiness, is a stand-out tonight, too. There’s a visible smile on the face of bassist Paz Lenchantin when the crowd sings back the “so long, so long” backing vocals. Now an official member of the band, here she proved a more than capable replacement for former member Kim Deal.

After a triumphant “Debaser” and encore of “Planet of Sound”, Francis and company left the stage as they occupied it: without a word. Their job here was done, and done wonderfully.