Black Francis
Bluefinger
»
Frank Black
Bluefinger
Cooking Vinyl, 2007
RiYL: Pixies, Herman Brood |
Now, I’m no expert on Brood, although repeated listens to Bluefinger and some delectable clips on YouTube are forcing me to further investigate the man’s work. But as far as I can tell, Black has done a smashing job in tribute. Probably the most obvious example is the Brood cover “You Can’t Break A Heart And Have It,” in which Black and his power trio (plus wife Violet Clarke on backing vox) rock the heck out of the pounding, bluesy number. Hearing the mounting catharsis, with Black screaming like he hasn’t on record in five years, is enjoyable to hear for that fact alone, but it also makes me want to learn more about the song’s author.
The “Dutch Elvis,” Brood (pronounced “Broat”) was an edgy rock superstar with a strong appetite for hard drugs and a larger-than-life media personality. In his later years he became a painter and was probably as well known for that as his music. In 2001, upon finding out his life was not long for this world, he got right to the quick of it in dramatic fashion by jumping from the seventh floor of the Amsterdam Hilton with a note advising fans to “make a party of it all.”
Brood’s mercurial life and high-flying suicide inspired most of the lyrics on Bluefinger, from the many heroin references to multiple narratives about his suicide. On “Angels Come To Comfort You,” Black makes a humorous attempt at a bio: “He played piano really fucking good / from West Berlin to West Hollywood / Prettier than Brando he was punker than punk / slave to rock and roll and a slave to junk.”
More wrenching is fare like “Threshold Apprehension,” which muses on Brood’s decision to take his own life in the midst of a powerful, angular punk groove that is as much like the Pixies as anything Black’s done in his solo career. Even the “ooo-wee-ooo” backing vocals by Clarke are Deal-esque in their soothing counterpoint to Black’s screaming fury. “Have drink, press button, 7th floor,” Black bellows, “Then wait a hundred years for the elevator door / comes a time if you wanna lose the tension / it’s your last time for the threshold apprehension.”
Here, the listener starts to realize why we haven’t seen a new Pixies album after four years of on/off reunion tours. It’s much easier for Frank to just make Pixies-ish music on his own, following his own muse, than to shepherd the old crew through making a record and face the wider media scrutiny attached to the Pixies name.
“Tight Black Rubber” is, one presumes, an ode to doing heroin the man’s way – wrapping tire innertube around your arm and bloodying up your veins. “Some things in life are so beautiful / make you go back again and again,” Black sings, adding in exclamation words Brood once spoke after snorting a fix on camera during a documentary interview: “It’s amazing, it works!” Later, on the album-closing title track, “The Pepperbox bell [was] blowing my brains / but I made it go quiet with Spanish cocaine.”
On the other side of the spectrum, “Discotheque 36” is a laid-back love song, drawing on Black’s recent forays into country and rootsy Americana to spin the first-person narrative of Brood meeting his wife Alexandra. A sisterly acoustic groove propels along “She Took All The Money,” with lyrics such as “Shama-lama-la-ding-dang / oh me oh my / she took all the money and now I can’t get high.”
So it’s an all-out paean to Brood, and through him to the classic triumvarate of “sex, drugs and rock and roll.” I’ll tell ya, I’ll follow Frank Black through just about anything, and he hasn’t released a record I haven’t liked. But hearing him rock out like this and get back into the darker side of his music, with lascivious lyrics and lecherous guitar licks, really makes me happy. This is the Black I grew up singing along with in my bedroom – visceral screaming, classic rock melodies, enticing song structures and lyrics with new perspectives on interesting topics.
And I hope there aren’t too many Pixies fans still out there who haven’t already realized that the spirit of the legendary band has expressed itself in many ways through Thompson’s now-storied solo career. But if such a creature does exist, he or she should be pointed directly toward Bluefinger, a document as close to capturing the sound of Black Francis, Pixies frontman, as anyone could hope. So, delve into the worlds of two rock icons in one tight album – what are you waiting for?
TROY CARPENTER | Troy Carpenter founded NATN from a Chicago apartment during the ambitious winter of 1998 with co-conspirators Ben French and Jonathan Cohen. After a five-year stint in New York, he and wife Lourdes have recently relocated to Indianapolis, where he spends days listening to music and nights in the kitchen at Elements restaurant. Musical heroes: Jimi Hendrix, Bob Marley, Super Furry Animals. What else makes life worth living: Sushi, Phucty, runs in the park, and the Atlanta Braves.