La La Love You: An Introspective

I discovered the Pixies in 1992. And by "discovered" I mean that one of my cooler friends, Kelly, introduced me to them and I fell in love. The third CD I ever purchased was was "Come on Pilgrim." (The first CD I ever owned was Rico Suave. Shut. Up.)

They broke up in 1993.

This band provided me mix tape fodder and movie-montage dreams through high school and college.

When I applied to work at a record store in college, there was a test of music knowledge as part of the application process. Out of 25+ questions I got two right. To the question "Of what bands were these solo artists members?" Bjork (Sugarcubes) and Frank Blank (The Pixies.) Before handing in my test, I asked the manager if I got credit for not running out in embarrassment. He said "no."

I still got the job.

The Pixies logo was the only band logo I ever considered getting tattooed on me. I never did.

In 2004 they got back together and went on tour. I'd met this wonderful indie boy at my best friend's wedding the summer they came through Denver and he said he'd come to the show with me.

I hadn't seen him since the wedding where we'd ended up making out drunkenly on her father's boat (I'm classy) so I was super nervous.

I'm not a big fan of crowds and large venues, so I was trying really really hard to keep me shit together. We found a great spot in the General Admission area where we could see (both of us being rather short) and where I felt like I could escape if necessary (anxiety rules!).

At one point, the tallest man in the universe found his way in front of my me. Between songs, I reached up to tap him on the shoulder (my eyes about elbow level... I'm not kidding.) He looked down and I shouted: "I'M NOT TRYING TO BE A DICK, BUT I USED TO BE ABLE TO SEE THE STAGE AND NOW I CAN'T. CAN YOU PLEASE MOVE?" Because of how far sound had to travel to reach his ears, I'm presuming what he heard was "YOU'RE A DICK. FUCKING MOVE!" I'm guessing this because the look he gave me was one of weighing his options: hit a tiny little girl in the face, or step aside. Luckily for both me and my tiny little date, he chose B.

The giant and I spent the rest of the show shoulder to... um... elbow-ish. He wouldn't move. I wouldn't move. (This is how I'm fun to hang out with.)

At some point later, two very inebriated chicks came barreling through the crowd. I would have been completely knocked down if I weren't shoulder to shoulder/elbow with the rest of the people around me and I was pissed. I caught my balance, turned around to face them, and threw my hands down with a "WHAT THE FUCK?!" Never have I actually been so close to an actual fight.

Both women sized me up and decided I wasn't worth it and more politely shoved their way to the stage.

After the show, I tried to explain to my date that I don't normally pick fights with people, especially giants, but I get really tired of being shoved around at shows. He said that he would have had my back with the giant, but I'd have been on my own with the girls... although he said there were others around us who would have jumped in to help as they'd left a trail of rage behind them.

18 months later we broke up.

And then a few weeks ago there was a post on Facebook that Kim Deal had left The Pixies. And it was like when I found out Kim Gordon and Thurston Moore had gotten divorced. Is nothing sacred? Does nothing good ever stay?

But the truth is, I'm sure Frank Black is a terrible douche... as it sounds like Thurston Moore is also. And that's why I'm not a superfan of anyone because I just don't want to know the personal lives of people who create things I like because then I have to hate them. So I don't read music rags and I don't watch "Behind the Music" (much). Because I want to believe in the love behind the music.

The (new) Pixies released a new song last week. The first in probably 10 years. I really want the female vocals to be Kim's, but they sound enough like her that I can just pretend that a Facebook post didn't happen.

Stay golden, Pony Boy.