Anyone who has been listening will have noticed a certain mellowing in the last few Pixies albums. It probably shouldn't come as a huge surprise. They're not so young as they were and everyone changes over time and, lest we've forgotten, bands and musical artists have every right to record the music they want to hear and which they enjoy playing. This will perhaps sound like a preamble to a series of excuses, which it isn't. The Night the Zombies Came isn't so startling as, off the top of my head, Doolittle or Trompe le Monde, although it's startling that they've recorded something this good nearly three decades later. While I noticed the conspicuous absence of that scream or the overt use of characteristically upsetting imagery - although it's still there if you listen - I also noticed that I've been playing the thing all week without caring too much about whatever else I might listen to instead. The Pixies still sound big, still combining the mellow twang with pounding drums or a wall of guitar, and the wrench of pathos is as strong as it's ever been; and yet it's almost easy listening with a mood parallel to the more wistful corners of country music, without resembling either. You may recall that Roxy Music mellowed more dramatically over the passage of much less time, and yet still packed a punch, albeit one in a more expensive glove. If The Night the Zombies Came is older, slower, and fatter, it still sparkles and does that which you'd hope it would do, particularly the oddly chilling Johnny Good Man - probably the standout track for me; and - frankly - if you can't appreciate this one, maybe rock music just isn't for you, buttercup. If anyone tells you different, punch them in the face*.
*: This is intended as a humourous remark made for the sake of emphasis and should under no circumstances be acted upon, okay?
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