That item adorned the neck of Julia Cumming who danced along while singing and playing bass, while guitarist Nick Kivlen lackadaisically walked around in circles while playing his intricate lead lines. They don’t have any of the pretense of the Glam Rock scene they harken back to, and there was only one boa. The first time that I saw the Pixies live, two New York bands were opening up for them, one of them went on to have a decent run, a fate I hope Sunflower Bean will have. In that time I have not been able to catch them live for reasons monetary and other, so this was a real treat. Their songwriting is tightly focused with a vision for how they want to be seen, even if that vision is slightly mysterious. In the nearly two years since their debut LP, Human Ceremony, was released, I have spent a good amount of time trying to get other people to listen to them. Sunflower Bean opened, a band on whom I could not lay any more praise in writing here than I have in person. It seemed like a logical thing to do in hindsight, but instead I played it cool and went to stand in line waiting for the doors to open. ![]() Having played a large part of my teenage years owing to a movie about fighting, I’m surprised I didn’t jump out of the car right then and there. ![]() I can’t imagine what he was heading for, walking towards Broadway on a moody late summer evening by himself. Maybe I was a little loud-and maybe I saw him produce a little smirk-but it really was him. “That was Frank Black!” I shouted from the passenger seat of a car driving down Elm towards College Street Music Hall around seven o’clock, eastern standard time, two hours before showtime.
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