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To me, Surfer Rosa is a null and void Pixies record, for reasons that pretty much all have to do with Steve Albini — his annoying habit of thinking putting 30 mikes around the drums is the solution to everything, those awkward skits, etc. Also, the sequencing is abysmal, and they recycled the song “Vamos” from the Pixies’ debut, Come on Pilgrim, the original version having been just fine (Green Day probably improved “Welcome to Paradise” to more of an extent, to put things in perspective).
After that caustic and almost arbitrary verdict from yours truly, then, that leaves four Pixies albums — one for each season. And come on, Doolittle just has to be the summer one, with that beach-y classic “Here Comes Your Man” manning the middle with such authority, and the fluid easiness the whole thing has of playing as a whole, even with those crazy, quirky vocals in “Debaser,” etc. I’ve got Come on Pilgrim slotted as my winter one, with that bare, spooky expansiveness of “Vamos” reminding me of like some weird altercation in Fargo, and of course that imagery of the northern “Caribou” spicing the proceedings thusly. Then, tentatively, I’ve got the expedited, naive pop of Trompe le Monde penciled in for spring, with its brainless penchant for leading to untoward consumption of intoxicants, or whatever your folly may be.
Bossanova opens, brilliantly, with a surf-rock instrumental, “Cecilia Ann.” Now, you might say, that smacks as classic summer fare. But it’s way darker and more ominous than, say, your average Dick Dale track on Pulp Fiction — the incessant, rapid rhythms and minor chord progression conjure up a feeling of end, or even fatality, as in when the trees start dying entering the colder part of the year. “Is She Weird,” then, seems to channel the sort of unfortunately clear wisdom of a relationship ending that you’d seem to associate with fall, when things start getting real and people starting getting down to brass tacks, abandoning the sunny, beach-bound myths of the warmer months. Also, that “We will wade in the tides of the summer” reference in “Velouria” seems to be dispatched from some entity OUTSIDE of summer, like an entity longing for those long evenings and warm breezes. It’s amazing how many of these songs can go on Halloween playlists, which seem like their true calling in life, you’ve gotta admit. As a worthy companion piece I highly recommend Pixies at the BBC, which isn’t on Spotify but does offer some aerated production and streamlined versions of lots of these songs ans well as certain pithy Doolittle cuts.