Thus the great circle is complete, and I guess it looks a little like this.

Pixies inspired the hit that broke Nirvana. The quiet loud dynamic that plagued our Chuck Taylor soles for a decade or so of stomping on Boss fuzz pedals. Then that party ended, and a drummer started a band of decreasing creative worth, and increasing monetary value. Hello to all you Fighters of Foo, the law of averages says that I'm talking to at least one of you, so hey there. This incarnation of Pixies seem to be aping your favourite band in a rather lacklustre way, 'Blue Eyed Hexe' aside, which is pure 'U-Mass' gone pub rock. It leaves you wishing that the screaming Frank Black Francis still meant it. Or that he meant anything at all these days.

Let's be clear. Pixies are a touring rock band. A touring rock band built on the rose tinted nostalgia of people of a certain age. A touring rock band that are so obviously bored of cycling through their back catalogue, that playing anything at all is probably more appealing than playing songs like 'Debaser' one more time. The irony is, no matter how good they happen to be, these new songs will only serve to inspire longer queues at the bar and toilets. Until some old song draws the ageing masses to at least face the stage. I'd imagine for one of the big indie hits maybe they'd even quit talking for a minute. The band are in a position to tour forever on the back of their music from twenty five years ago, music that sounded fresh and interesting back then, mostly because it was.

But dreaming through the hits night after night was not enough for The Frank Black Francis. The money alone was not enough. He wanted to release his new songs, to build on his status, it became some sort of power struggle with Kim Deal. The battle of the new songs. They took sides, Kim left, and straight away some new songs were upon us. He had to enforce his dominance. Just like the old days. Maybe it was to prove that he was one of the great songwriters, that he could still do it, rather than just being some old guy sat on a park bench with a blanket over his lap. Reliving his youth, all those good old days. He still had it, he deserved the money after all, he inspired an entire generation. He's been told that, over and over, as people tried to talk him down from an increasingly terrible solo career, into milking the Pixies cash cow.

So he deserves the money, sure, and he needs the praise for his ego.

So here we are...

I'm reading a press release for EP2 and weeping at the downright awfulness of the legacy fucking parody act that is using the name of a band I used to love. Lazily writing songs with no heart. Like it never had heart. Like all The Frank Black Francis needs is a few slower paced tracks in his greatest hits set, to give him a bit of a breather, whilst milk from the cash cow dribbles down his chin across his belly from her mighty udder.

There are familiar moments in all of these songs. Like I already mentioned, 'Blue Eyed Hexe' sounds like U-Mass. The rhythm guitar riff from 'Magdalena' could be any number of Pixies songs if you slowed them down a touch and had old fat guys with no imagination play them. 'Greens and Blues' has guitar moments from 'Velouria' and 'Gouge Away', again, not in a good way. I spent a while trying to work out what the chorus from 'Snakes' reminded me of. It's the chorus from 'The Killing Moon' by Echo and the Bunnymen. Only it's played by that technically proficient, but overall everything awful cover band, that have played MOR hits in every dive pub since the beginning of time. You've all seen them play. You probably left for somewhere less embarrassing. I really wish that Pixies still had their magic, but they don't, and it's a terrible shame for all of the parties concerned. For us as the listener, and for them as the band that are running on empty.

To all lovers of Pixies I say this: I hope that you are not so blinded by your nostalgia for this band that you cannot see that this is a piece of shit. It is one hundred percent ok, and one hundred percent necessary, to separate this release from the band we both love. The band from our past that doesn't exist anymore, and it's ok, it doesn't devalue our memories. They are still valid, and we'll always have those records. All the worst songs in the world could be attributed to The Frank Black Francis, they might yet, it won't change the past. What I'm saying is whatever they choose to do now is ok, no matter how terrible it may be, you don't have to watch out of some sense of loyalty.

Unless of course you want to see that awful cover band play soulless, bland, half-assed versions of songs you loved that used to have urgency and passion. Unless of course, like them, you have also slowed down and mellowed out with age. Then you could always look upon the bands career as a metaphor for your own life, and maybe take some time to reconsider some of those big choices you made. It's never too late buddy.