By Jodi Root

Five years ago, almost to the day, my life changed. The impossible became not only possible, but actual history and the Pixies reunited. They said it could never happen, but the moment I heard that Frank Black and Kim Deal let bygones be bygones and embarked on a reunion tour in 2004, you better believe I was one of the first ticket-holders. It’s crazy to look back on this, as five years ago I had driven 4.5 hours from northern Wisconsin to catch what I would remember as one of the happiest nights of my musical life. Last night was a major sense of déjà vu, as I was checking my favorite band play yet again, in the exact same venue, but this time a mere fifteen minute stroll away. I was excited, to say the least—and definitely not disappointed.

The Pixies had played the night before, as 1/3 consecutive sets in support of the 20th anniversary of the legendary album Doolittle. The night was full of positive energy, excited fans both young and old alike, mingling in the sold out ballroom space of the Aragon. No Age kicked things off around 7:30, and from what I recall they succeeded in a stellar opening set. Sound was decent, the duo was banging, but quite honestly, my mind was not able to focus on what they were doing. How could it? The Pixies would be performing Doolittle in completion in less than an hour—I felt like a 14 year old girl who got asked to her first date, anxious, excited, smiling ear-to-ear and ready to jump right in.

Finally, around the 9:00 PM mark, the stage fills with fog and a backdrop screen illuminates with snippets from the 1929 Salvador Dali and Luis Bunuel silent film Un Chien Andalou, the graphic film which is best known for a woman’s eyeball sliced open by a razorblade, alas, the inspiration for “Debaser.” The crowd goes nuts; we know this is going to be good. After what seemed like hours of anticipation, (but was probably closer to three minutes,) Frank Black, Kim Deal, Joey Santiago and David Lovering finally take the stage, opening up with b-side favorite, “Manta Ray.”

The lights are still off on the stage, with this infamous quartet of alterna-rock gods (and goddess), lit merely by the glowing digital background, silhouettes of action profiled with fog machines. Without pausing, “Weird at My School” keeps the momentum flowing, followed by a brief, but upbeat greeting by Miss Deal, “Thanks for coming, here’s a b-side you have to learn.” And she’s right, it is a b-side I need to learn—I didn’t catch the title and was surprised to not pick up what the track was. The B-side trio, however, was coming to a close. The crowd was ready for the main event.

Lights finally brightened the stage, animation on the back screen kicked up, and the audience went insane as a familiar bass line, permanently engraved into any Pixies fan’s subliminal conscious strummed like magic. Guitars thrashed, percussion joined and Black got the crowd movin’ and groovin’ to the kickoff of Doolittle with the opening “Debaser.” From here on out, the Pixies played their thirty-eight minute, 15 track groundbreaking album as promised, consecutively and seamlessly. Without even realizing or caring if the album was being played in order (it was), I was transported into my personal music heaven, leaping and shrieking alongside several fans of different varieties, both screaming and singing along to every word and bark. While the Aragon may not boast the best sound quality, and vocals can sometimes be distorted in delivery, I think last night’s set still succeeded with its message. As a crowd, we bled, were carried on waves of mutilation, professed our love—both in general and to our man, shook our butts (but not too hard), went to heaven, got tattooed tits and were gouged away. It was a perfect set and I feel like I can finally mark a legendary task off my life-long to-do list. The only thing missing was a cameo from Christian Slater from the days of “Pump up the Volume,” when the Pixies played the slower soundtrack version of “Wave of Mutilation.”

Encores were inevitable, and were broken up into two sets. At this point I was drunk on the combination of both the experience itself and overpriced party cup beers. While my older brother was of course disappointed at the absence of “Where is My Mind,” I was content with the selection. My only wish list item that I didn’t score was “Dig for Fire,” but beggars can’t be choosers—the remaining encore tracks were still solid. Highlights of the encore included “Into the White,” “Nimrod’s Son” and “Velouria.” The night was finally complete when the Pixies brought down the house with an incredible rendition of “U-Mass.” There’s something about screaming “It’s Educational,” until your voice is all but obsolete in a sold out ballroom crammed with likeminded music fans, that just feels right. Night 2/3 of Doolittle in Chicago was a memorable success—if you have tickets to tonight’s final Chi set, I can promise you will not be disappointed. I can’t wait to see what lies down the road five years from now, here’s to hoping it involves the Aragon again.