The Pixies rolled into Glasgow’s O2 Academy like a band with nothing left to prove, but plenty to remind us about. Right from the first feral chords of “Gouge Away,” the crowd was putty in their hands, whipped into a frenzy that would make a Glaswegian Saturday night look like tea with the Queen. Black Francis, as usual, had no interest in small talk—his mission was pure, primal sonic delivery, and boy, did the band deliver.

They served up an incredible set that was equal parts nostalgia trip and rock ‘n’ roll clinic, with deep cuts unearthed from the depths of their twisted back catalogue and no less than three cover versions sprinkled in for good measure. Not that anyone was complaining—when The Pixies decide to cover a song, they make it theirs, warping and twisting it until it’s less a tribute and more a resurrection.

Now, I’ve got to confess, I hopped on the Pixies train a bit late. It was “Where Is My Mind?” featured in Fight Club that pulled me in—something about the way Black Francis’s wails sounded like the ravings of a man teetering on the edge of sanity.

That voice was in top form tonight, alternately snarling, howling, and spewing out hyperbole like a deranged poet. The fact that the band didn’t pause between songs to exchange pleasantries with the audience wasn’t a letdown; if anything, it kept the intensity dialed up to eleven, with maybe a minor dip somewhere toward the middle of the marathon 2.5hr set.

They kicked off with “Wave of Mutilation”—and yes, they played it twice, with the UK Surf edit making a later appearance like an old friend crashing the party for one last round. Somewhere in the maelstrom of distortion and punk fury, they slipped in The Jesus and Mary Chain’s “Head On,” followed by the manic “Isla De Encanta,” each song pushing the crowd further towards ecstatic chaos.

As for personal highlights, the galaxy-spanning “All Over the World” felt like it could tear the roof off the place, while “Hey” and “Ana” offered a sort of twisted intimacy, the kind where you’re never sure if you’re supposed to sway along or check under your bed for monsters. When they dropped the live debut of “Motorola,” the audience collectively lost their minds—it was like watching a cult leader reveal his latest prophecy. From there, it was one hit after another: “Monkey Gone to Heaven” was a spiritual experience, “Is She Weird?” confirmed that yes, she definitely is, and “Debaser” along with “Here Comes Your Man” reminded everyone why the Pixies are still untouchable.

The cover of “In Heaven (Lady in the Radiator)” by Peter Ivers and David Lynch was a surreal curveball, fitting perfectly into the evening’s sense of warped reality. And then, with cruel precision, they wrapped it up with “Where Is My Mind?” and Neil Young’s “Winterlong.” No encore, just multiple bows to the audience. It was the perfect ending—a reminder that the Pixies don’t need to pander or drag things out. They came, they conquered, they left us in awe.

So here’s the bottom line: If you weren’t at the O2 Academy tonight, you missed a band still at the height of their powers, reasserting their place in rock’s pantheon. Tight as a drum, loud as hell, and cool as ever, The Pixies proved once again why they’re the stuff of legend.

Photos: Elliot Hetherton

Words: Angela Canavan