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Expecting to Hate Indie Cindy

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I was expecting to hate Indie Cindy by the Pixies because all the reviews I scanned all assured me that it is an unwholesome failure. I expected absolutely nothing when I started listening to it; that’s a completely different experience from my viewing of Jaws, Citizen Kane, The Blair Witch Project, and most of the other movies I’ve found disappointing over the years.  What did those movies have in common? High praise. Indie Cindy? Ask Metacritic and you will find that it hardly managed three out of five stars on the whole.

So how is it? Well, I feel like I should shake my head while tilting my hand back and forth and whisper: “Damn good.” So to continue the movie metaphor, it’s like one of those movies you end up seeing because the good one is sold out, knowing it is rated 6/10 or less, only to be surprised that it is not a bad movie of its kind. Moon Over Parador is one of those for me.  In music, Indie Cindy is that unexpected little odd shaped diamond with the facet just off enough to have been put in the critics’ reject pile.  And Indie Cindy is a lot better than Moon Over Parador.

“Indie Cindy” is now one of my favourite Pixies tunes, an anthem of sorts, getting up there near the same heights as “Where is My Mind.” Their sound has changed, thankfully.  They are not stuck back in 1988.  Perhaps some critics are. “Bagboy,” “Blue Eyed Hexe,” “Greens and Blues,” and most of the other songs on this album all reward careful listening. This is one of those albums that deserves to be cranked, and perhaps that’s what’s wrong: their fans are old and have their volume down.

Having Children

A friend of mine recently told me that he found the latest Iggy Pop and the Stooges album (Ready to Die, 2013) offensive and I burst out laughing, thinking he was making, on purpose, one of the greatest ironic statements I’ve ever heard. It was unintentional, as it turned out, and I did my verbal backpedaling to mend the situation, but it did make me realize that what once made us embrace an artist can later offend us.  Artists change over time and the real audience has to learn not to scream hysterically over the old hits while booing new ones. Listen rather than watch.




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