the moon and the stars and the pixies: live at the filmore

Popular music travels in a million different directions, often all at once - the definition of what’s cool and uncool never constant, always moving. But since forming in the late 1980s, The Pixies have survived it all. Every whim and detour, every change in fashion and time. A mythology fueled by word of mouth. Though they always operated less like a band and more like a fire starter, igniting something in the culture at the same time they really became a part of it. Like The Velvet Underground and Big Star before them, their impact on other artists alone continues to be so vast, it’s impossible to overstate or even fully perceive their influence. All of which makes them heroes in a much rarer constellation. Year after year, they remained celebrated in school cafeterias, record stores, newspapers and magazines, a reputation bolstered by love from artists as varied as U2, The Strokes, Arcade Fire, Nirvana and David Bowie. All fans, both known and unknown, drawn to melodies that conceal a very vivid sense of melancholy like diamonds in a mine, exploding into something mournful and pretty when uncovered and exposed to the light. Walking out to enthusiastic applause at The Filmore (07-23-25), evidence of that lasting impact was etched into every smiling face pressed up against the front, breathless as they waited as close to the stage as the venue allowed. It was the second of two consecutive shows in Philadelphia - the first having featured beginning to end performances of 1990’s Bossanova and 1991’s Trompe le Monde, both significant albums in their history. Though this night would be a retrospective set that quickly became a dispatch through the decades, each song another fragment in their life as one of the world’s most important bands. 

Every so often, the flood of stage lights behind them would dim just long enough to leave only a few bright and luminous, occasionally giving the effect that frontman Black Francis had suddenly walked in front of an eclipse. And with a faint glow tracing his profile and a flash of white filling just one lense of his eye glasses, he sometimes looked like a wandering star, holding his microphone close as he waded through the cosmos. A fitting scene as the Pixies sound can often be as striking as that moving image and all it suggests - as still as the sky above and as haunting as the unknown void and total darkness that lies beyond what we can see. They’ve always existed somewhere out there, somewhere between the brutal and the hypnotizing. “Monkey Gone To Heaven,” “The Vegas Suite,” “Where Is My Mind?” “Wave of Mutilation,” “Primrose,” “Here Comes Your Man,” “Gouge Away,” “Hey,” “Motoroller,” “Jane (The Night The Zombies Came)” and “Caribou” were just some of the high points of their two hour set, demonstrating that range and more - a consistent, remarkable reminder of how the passage of time has only deepened the depths of their reach.

By Caitlin Phillips
08.11.2025