33 1/3 Doolittle or: How Surfer Rosa is Harder & Better

"Charles Thompson chafed at the suggestion that his new work was a step down in kickitude. 'I hate that shit when they compare how hard Surfer Rosa is to Doolittle,' he told Ted Mico of the Melody Maker. 'Obviously the guitars are harder on Surfer Rosa because of the Steve Albini production, but that album is way more wimpy, way more poppy and light. Doolittle is more chunky…They say Doolittle is less surreal and more silly. That's ridiculous. Songs like 'Broken Face' are way more silly.'"

-Excerpt from Doolittle by Ben Sisario

Last week, I completed another book in Continuum's 33 1/3 series (which I am a big fan of). The book, for the Pixies' second album, Doolittle, is by Ben Sisario, who has written for such publications as the New York Times, Rolling Stone and Spin, and is another fine addition to this ever-growing canon.

The book, like others in the series, was split into two halves. The first half is a combination of history, focusing on the band during the making of the album, and interviews, mainly with Pixies' front-man Charles Thompson/Black Francis/Frank Black (Producer Gil Norton provides further details on production with Guitarist Joey Santiago and Drummer David Lovering offering a few brief words and Kim Deal offering nothing since she declined to take part). The second half is a song-by-song breakdown of the album, with analysis by Sisario and insights from Thompson.

The interview with Thompson, which is conducted primarily in the canary-yellow, 1986 Cadillac, which he purchased with his first royalty check in 1989, in and around scenic Eugene, Oregon, is one of the most interesting aspects of the book. Thompson's ruminative, humble, and unpretentious ideas on the album are fascinating and challenging.

On page 65, Sisario discusses the deterioration of the band after Doolittle and how the albums after, Bossanova and Trompe le Monde, lack focus. He compares the albums to puzzles and Thompson as a puzzlemaster who doesn't really care about the puzzle, but the pieces. This leads into one of Thompson's most interesting ideas:

"All that matters is the one song you're playing at that time. Because the song begins here and ends here. And it's three minutes long. And while that song is going on, that's the center of the universe. Nothing else matters. That's the kind of aesthetic I think that we had."

Thompson continues:

"Yeah. I have my favorite albums and whatnot, but in the religion of rock music, the most holy sacrament is the song. You know what I mean? More than the bands. More than the solos. And more than the albums. It's the song. That's the experience. 'Hey, have you heard this song? That fucking song is great.' It's the song that really means the most."

Some of the other great parts of the book are Sisario's discussion with Thompson about the lyrics, which touch on religion (The Old Testament story of David and Bethsheba in "Dead"), sex (original album title: Whore) and Surrealism (his love for Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dalí's short film, Un Chien Andalou, the inspiration for "Debaser") and how the Pixies have been sonically bypassed by the bands who followed (Sisario claims that even "Smells Like Teen Spirit", which Kurt Cobain admitted was a blatant Pixies rip-off, still doesn't really sound like the Pixies).

The only argument I have, was with Thompson's, not Sisario's, statement in the excerpt above. How Surfer Rosa is "way more wimpy, way more poppy and light" than Doolittle.

My first Pixies album was Surfer Rosa. Often, the first album of a band you grow to love becomes your favorite by the band. This usually leads you to believe it to be the band's finest work. And no matter how objectively you believe your decision making process to be, a bias created by sentimentality will still effect your conclusion. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this, since it's perfectly natural, I just want you to know that my conclusion has managed to be untainted by this bias (Yes, that's my sentimental bias laughing). Surfer Rosa is not only a harder, but a better album than Doolittle.

Both albums are classic. Filled with vibrant, manic and dagger-sharp pop songs composed of screaming guitar noise, gorgeous guy-girl harmonies and lyrics with vivid, surreal, and perverse imagery, dementedly sung. I love both of them immensely.

The reason Surfer Rosa is better than Doolittle, is that the crazed exuberance of the band, which is one of their finest attributes, is perfectly captured on the album while heightening the abrasive quality of their sound, which in turn works so well with/against the songs' inherent pop nature.

A lot of credit for this has to go to the production of Steve Albini, who is able to give the Pixies' ideas on sex and death the stark, blaring and virile sound it needs to reinforce those ideas. Lovering's drums pound like a giant stomping down a street. The guitars of Santiago and Thompson are like metallic sirens shredding through the speakers. And the vocals sound like those from an escaped lunatic. Sometimes joyous, sometimes insane.

Doolittle, which shares the same lyrical themes of sex and death, loses some of that crazed exuberance and the forceful production of Rosa. It's still exuberant, but doesn't have the edge that's needed for sex and death. This is caused by Gil Norton's production, which is excellent but much more smooth and polished. The songs are still amazing, making me sing along and bop my head with every listen, but the songs on Surfer Rosa, grab and shake me as I scream along. They become the center of the universe and nothing else matters.