Pure Punk Picks
Hey – Pixies
“Hey, been tryin’ to meet you. Hey, must be a devil between us or whores in my head, whores at the door, whore in my bed.”
“But hey, where have you been?”
Let me state- There are many more male whores than women. It’s a fact.
Pixies were and are a Boston band that maybe, along with some terrible bands like R.E.M., helped define the term indie rock.
But at the time, and they were known as The Pixies then, they existed on a British independent label as their music was considered far too uncommercial for major labels.
Though, they did become moderately successful during the later eighties as I remember playing their song “Here Comes Your Man” in a classic rock cover band about then.
The “quiet-loud-quiet” shifts in many of their songs, including this tune, was an acknowledged influence of Kurt Cobain and is noticeable in “Smells Like Teen Spirit.”
Pixies split up in 1993 and reunited in 2004, selling out large arenas as their popularity and influence grew over the years. I’ve read about them being compared to The Velvet Underground as another band that didn’t sell a lot of records during their time but whose popularity grew along the way. I totally agree with that evaluation and love both bands.
This song begins all stark and mysterious with just a vocal and a plaintive and affecting bass line. Soon some fifties/Latin like guitar chords come prancing in like slow, trotting horses while the drums make their entrance, quietly during the first chorus.
Then the volume and beat builds up, along with the intensity as bassist Kim Deal adds to a call and response vocal while some high-pitched, bending double note guitar blends in.
After that it’s the bass by its lonesome until guitarist, Joey Santiago, joins in with a repeating reverb drenched surf guitar lick. (Joey’s style is heavily influenced by instrumental surf music much like The Dead Kennedys’ East Bay Ray and Ricky Wilson of The B-52’s).
During the next verse a trilling, somber, tremolo guitar comes swooping in subtly, like a mosquito buzzing about your ears. When the chorus hits again it’s repeated an extra time as the intense, moody, spooky feel is amplified as the song then ends dramatically, with a couple of drum accents and a squealing, pained guitar note.
I’ve already written about how Andy and I saw this band in local clubs like The Rat in the eighties with about twenty other people back then. And how it would make me feel strange to witness them once again now, with twenty thousand.
But Pixies are one of my favorite local Boston punk bands of all time. And, I feel, one of the best. And though, perhaps even if they do fit into that dreaded indi category, they certainly have a lot of great punk and hardcore in their songs.
“Hey” is one of my favorite tunes by them and I feel, one of their best.
So, I could pull out of my ass some fancy words I know to describe this song. But I’d rather express that this song tares at my heart, inflames my emotions and rips my soul apart.
It causes a vision- of sad, hardened Mexican prostitutes presented in a line in a brothel, trying to make enough pesos to feed their families that night.
It makes me think of the sad plight between women and men. How love and lust is used in a kind of barter system. It makes me realize how much of love is crushed to dust while lust lingers on, much like a hound looking to be fed.
It makes me think of how the good and gentle and pure are whipped by the unmerciful laws of nature and life.
“Uh, said to the man to the lady.”
Uh, said the lady to the man she adored.
And the whores like a choir go “Uh” all night
And Mary aren’t you tired of this?”
Frank Black or Black Francis the writer for this band would be the first to admit he means nothing with his lyrics. It’s just sounds and words that happen to fit the music he writes and that’s fine.
But Hey!
That doesn’t matter to me when a song this good can evoke such other matters.
(Slimedog)
