Disco for corner dwellers

What is a "bone machine?" We asked ourselves this question back in the late 1980s, when it was new and exciting to listen to and be "indie"; when, after discovering stubborn bands like the Pixies, we felt nonconformist, or at least more nonconformist than our own parents.

What does Charles Michael Kittridge Thomson IV, who calls himself Black Francis as the lead singer of the Pixies, mean when he sings, as he did recently at a concert in Berlin, "I was talking to preachy-preach about kissy-kiss. He bought me a soda"? Who is this "preachy-preach" who buys him a soda? What is a "kissy-kiss"? I still have no idea. The song has remained wonderfully stubborn in all the years since its release.

The sold-out Tempodrom turns into an indie disco, as the Boston-founded band plays almost every one of their indie hits, including “Bone Machine,” from their first, style-defining album, “Surfer Rosa” (1988), and their most popular song, “Where is my Mind?” – already in third place.

Francis came up with the idea for this song while diving in the colorful underwater world of the Caribbean. He sings that a small fish bumped into him. "I swear, it wanted to talk to me. Koi-koi." Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen at unusual depths that prompted the singer to come up with the line "Your head will collapse if there's nothing in it." In many of their songs, the Pixies warn of the danger that can lurk even in beauty, of what frightens us or makes us sick, of the collapse of our heads.

Ordinary bands wouldn't fire off their supposed best right from the start, but the Pixies are no ordinary band, even in their old age; they even celebrate their uniqueness. No announcements, no encores, no embellishments. The pace is brisk: 29 songs in an hour and a half, including ten from their second, most successful album, "Doolittle" (1989), including "Wave of Mutilation," "Here Comes Your Man," and "Monkey Gone to Heaven."

It's as if you're experiencing the band in their rugged rehearsal room. It's a good thing they're still around. Because they're still needed – as a counter-voice to the many cowardly, uptight, Lenor pop singers on the radio. And as a subversive force – especially in Trump's America, where attempts are made to dismiss those who think differently and are different.

Similar to Bob Dylan, the 60-year-old Francis, guitarist Joey Santiago, drummer David Lovering, and Emma Richardson, the successor to original bassist Kim Deal, leave their audience to themselves. Those who want can find political statements in the songs or find comfort. You can sing along, but the band has no discernible interest in doing so. They don't entertain. They don't patronize or manipulate.

It's no surprise, then, that Kurt Cobain adored the Pixies. "I have to admit," the Nirvana singer told Rolling Stone in a 1994 interview, "when I first heard the Pixies, I felt such a connection that I should have been in that band—or at least a Pixies cover band."

For "Smells Like Teen Spirit," the anthem of all the corner-sitters, Nirvana is said to have been inspired by Pixies songs like "Debaser," which alternate between quiet and loud sections. And no one knows exactly what the two songs are about.

What's new from the Pixies? Nothing. Thankfully. On their current album, "The Night of the Zombies," released last year, Francis explores terrifying life situations that people are trying to escape: world chaos, loneliness. With their songs, the band poses questions they've always grappled with: How do we want to live? Like this? Really? Does true love perhaps exist after all?

"I feel like a chicken," sings Francis in the song "Chicken." More precisely, like a decapitated chicken. He doesn't seem particularly optimistic. Because without a head, there's no kissy-kiss.