Pye in the Face

In between their 1989 debut Pod and 1993’s uber-successful Last Splash the Breeders quietly released the lovely Safari EP. I remember my sister bought the CD single and along with the title track there was a Who cover, the pretty “Do you Love me Now?” and my favorite - the very dark “Don’t Call Home“. One of the best short plays I’ve ever heard in terms of the quality of both the singles and the b-sides. Until someone asks me to stop, or I’m led away in shackles, I am going to offer up MP3s of Wadio subjects from here on out. They are often very difficult to find or unavailable on iTunes or Amazon. For your listening pleasure, and I mean that, here is Safari for y’all to right click and download. Send flowers and money.

I thought of the band last night when I read that they had a new album, Mountain Battles, coming out in a week and decided to make them the subject of this week’s Wadio. As I searched for an accompanying video I discovered, unbeknownst to me, that they’d actually made a video for Safari, and here it is…

It reminds me of one of Black Sabbath’s vids and that was probably the whole point. The band plays in front of a primitive green screen backdrop with literal translations of the lyrics flashing past. Gorillas, hippos, palm trees - but what is the song really talking about? Lion-peeping? Originally it could have been easily explained as one of Toni Iommi’s hallucinations. Please allow an explication attempt, and there isn’t a lot to work with:

He didn’t cry on a safari
In over his knees
He couldn’t leave a finer life
Always hugging the ground
And crying out for me
He didn’t cry on a safari
In over his knees
He couldn’t leave the flock, he couldn’t leave
always hugging the man
and crying out for me

I’ve got very little. He didn’t cry yet he’s crying out. He couldn’t leave the finer life, yet there he is on the Safari. Did he even go in the first place? Maybe next time take Kim Deal to Africa with you, buddy. I know I would. Also, is a safari the best thing do right after a tough breakup? Probably not. Do what everyone else does - save some money, get drunk on Schlitz and then call her at 2 in the morning. If nothing else I’ve learned that when singing along in the future I needn’t enthusiastically include the F-word. He simply couldn’t leave the “flock”. My Breeders bad.

I was hoping that after the Pixies reunion of 2004/2005 we’d see the Breeders resurrected as well. The new album will be their first in 6 years and will also mark their 20th anniversary. Kim and Kelley Deal (OK - Kim) turned this spinoff into a once hugely successful band. ‘Cannonball‘ proved more popular a single than anything the Pixes or Frank Black ever released. I still hear it nearly every time I leave the house. I hope that Mountain Battles fares well and earns Kim some new fans while pleasing those existing. As the ‘first lady’ of alt-rock there are high expectations. I must say - I already love the title. Is it going to be a Hatfield / McCoy concept album wrought with banjos? Will they change their name to The Inbreeders? I live in hope.

“Svn Fngrs, seven songs, seven moments of brilliance. The true return of PixieFrank that the last album promised to be.” - Brian Johnston.

No, thank you - I didn’t mean to type “Frank Black”. Black Francis, Charles Thompson’s pre-Frank persona from the Pixies is back. Back, black and most certainly bitchin’. His new EP is called SVN FNGRS and I literally cannot stop playing it. I’m going to start forwarding Mr. Thompson all of the speeding tickets I’m liable to amass during my fixation with his latest master work - as they’re sure to be most numerable.

“He seems to have effortlessly spat out a really hip, really funky collection of tracks that, while only loosely adhering to the notion of a coherent album, forge an instant connection and then hang around to develop a lasting friendship. It’s hard to stay mad at you, Black Francis.” - Tom Slater

The session which spawned this surprise gem of a mini-LP was supposed to see Charles recording a couple of B-Sides for another record already in the can. Ever the prolific songwriter, 7 songs ended up on the tapes and Cooking Vinyl thankfully decided the 6-day effort was worthy of it’s own release.

“He’s a quirky genius with a distinctive style, and Svn Fngrs is a glimpse into the sideshow circus of his mind – simultaneously fun and disturbing, and as compelling as a couple arguing about their sex-lives in a crowded restaurant.” - Paul Raven

I was pleased to discover an official video for the lead single, I Sent Away, readily available on YouTube and here it is for your enjoyment. I am far more excited about Garbage Heap and The Seus but this song is still solid and comprehensively the EP makes me very happy. I’m sure my favorite song will change back and forth SVN times before my infatuation phase is over.

I absolutely love the speedy three chord progression that kicks off right away on I Sent Away and the harmonica at the end is just as grimy and wonderful. Edited and fimed by his wife the video is lively and manic - a far cry from Frank Black’s countryish albums of the last 4 years and more akin to the recent BlueFinger. But what really makes this release that of Black Francis as opposed to his alter-ego Mr. Black? It’s a little grittier, a little screamier, a little more Boston 1986 than Memphis 2002. A little bit of SlimFast and a dab of eyeliner. It’s a startling mid-career reinvention for the kidlings but a welcome return to form for the thirty-somethings. Thanks, Blackie F - and I hope you’ve sent a copy of this to Joey, Kim and David. It might get them thinking.

Earth-Shattering Update:

Live version of Garbage Heap.

“…this excellent little 7″ is just about the best thing Frank Black has released in the last decade.” www.boomkat.com

All the Threshold Apprehension reviews I read this morning, while mulling what I myself would throw down, said that the song is a “return to form” and very reminiscent of Frank’s work with the Pixies. Yes, he recorded his latest album under the moniker Black Francis as opposed to Frank Black. And yes, he utilizes his amazing screaming capabilities at a level not seen since Bailey’s Walk. Is this Charles Thompson’s version of a mid-life crisis, perhaps? He is 41 this year. Is dusting off the old nom de plume and wailing like a banshee akin to pulling into the driveway in a 2007 Mustang when the wife thinks you’ve been saving for a mini-van?

Threshold Apprehension, although released as a single, doesn’t have a traditional video to accompany it. I’ve posted a crazy live version below, and you should also check out this fan-made accompaniment if you want to hear what the studio version sounds like. I’d recommend that so you can share my sheer joy 57 seconds into the song when the single strum becomes a double and the tune all of a sudden makes me want to punch my accelerator. The part where he describes drinking Grand Marnier, snortin’ speed and then “doing 185 on the new Ring Road” doesn’t help either.

If you combine 80’s-era Pixies, 2004-era Pixies and Frank’s solo touring between 1993 and the present I have seen the man in concert 14 times - and I’ve never seen him put down his guitar except to pick up another one. I’m not sure what got into him at the performance above earlier this year in Toulouse, but I likey. Recently I decided to make a Frank Black “best of” playlist for my iTunes and as it sprawled to over 30 songs (he has released no less than 13 solo albums since the Pixies’ demise in 1992 - two of them doubles) I realized how much joy this unique and prolific songwriter has brought to my stereos over the course of my life so far. Actually, take a prolific songwriter and feed them bathtub meth through an IV for half a day, hook them up to a solar power generator and then maybe you’ve got something better resembling Frank.

Bluefinger, not to be confused with a Daniel Craig-era James Bond villain (hat tip to FrankBlack.net) was inspired as a whole by an obscure Dutch artist with whom Charles apparently feels quite an affinity. It’s his latest thematic focus in a long line of space aliens, cowboys, science fiction writers and fellow musicians and I just have to say - whatever works. Well done yet again, Mr. Thompson. Now get back on the treadmill so you can continue trying to impress the babysitter next time you drive her home in the ‘Stang.