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“Give me some bait. Give me some bait! I’ll babble.” Black Francis, the lead singer and songwriter of the Boston-based Pixies, looks up over his watermelon and smiles. So far they have talked about Angela Bowie, their parents, Southern California, how cocaine is processed and Los Angeles radio personality Swedish Eagle.
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“Give me some bait. Give me some bait! I’ll babble.” Black Francis, the lead singer and songwriter of the Bostonbased Pixies, looks up over his watermelon and smiles. So far they have talked about Angela Bowie, their parents, Southern California, how cocaine is processed and Los Angeles radio personality Swedish Eagle. They have not talked about their brilliant new album, Surfer Rosa, or about their first national tour, or why such a down-toearth band uses artsy-fartsy pseudonyms like Black Francis or Mrs. John (Kim) Murphy. If we were really stretching it, we could talk about their brilliant first album, Come On Pilgrim, since they haven’t taken a wild tailspin from album one to album two and, y’know, gone disco or anything.
“Directionless. We’re directionless. We have no politics, we have no opinions about anything,” grins Francis. “We just want to make some tunes. Make some tunes, make some records. People can buy the records and hang out with their friends and put the tunes on.