Few bands from the late 80’s/early 90s were more influential than Boston’s Pixies. Emerging at the forefront of the alternative rock boom, which has defined rock music in the two decades since their inception, the Pixies are regarded by the most illustrious names of the genre (Radiohead, Weezer, Blur, Arcade Fire and cult legends Hüsker Dü, to name a few) as a massive influence. Perhaps the most ringing endorsement was from the poster boy of the grunge movement, Kurt Cobain, who said in a 1994 Rolling Stone interview that ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ was his attempt “to write the ultimate pop song. I was basically trying to rip off the Pixies.” In his solo show at Melbourne’s Forum Theatre, on his first Australian tour since 1994, former lead singer and songwriter Frank Black (performing under the moniker Black Francis) showed little of the passion and energy that made the Pixies so widely regarded.

Musically, the performance was more than solid, if a little unvaried, with Francis delivering track after unyielding track of ballsy rock. The lineup included a bass player and a drummer, the staple of Francis’s last few tours, who epitomized what a backup band should be: heard but not seen. Francis was, to some degree, undone by the crowd, who were listless and mostly uninterested, quite surprising for a crowd at the performance of such a cult figure. The show consisted of songs mostly from Francis’ two latest albums: 2007’s Bluefinger and 2008’s Svn Fngrs. Laden with rich imagery and astounding lyrical depth, coupled with the somewhat abrasive musical style evident in his latest efforts, it seemed as though a lot of this complexity was lost in translation. The subject of many of the tracks performed was the enigmatic Dutch musician and artist Herman Brood, and Francis attempted to weave a narrative between his tracks regarding the life and times of Brood, whose suicide in 2001 has impacted Francis strongly.

However the subject matter, and Francis’ idiosyncratic vocal and lyrical style, makes his recent music somewhat inaccessible in live performance, and to the casual fan this made the night completely unremarkable. It is not despite his legacy as the driving force of the Pixies, but because of it, that Francis seemed to have trouble making a connection with the audience: consistent calls for renditions of ‘Debaser’ or ‘Velouria’ (which, at the end of the set, was a true highlight) could drive even the most seasoned performer to disenchantment. The die-hards, of which there were seemingly few, may have felt more of a connection, but from where this reviewer was standing it was a disappointingly, lifeless affair.