It was the $10 fuck-around club show we wished the Pixies had played 18 months ago. The kind where Kim Deal, still in the same shirt she was wearing two days ago, walks unmolested through the crowd, Frank Black does Springsteen impressions, songs get messed up and restarted, the set list becomes optional, and people who'd forgotten why they wore out Surfah Roser (that's the native pronunciation) suddenly remember. Interesting factoid: Frank's picks say "Kim." Kim's picks say "Frank." "It started as a manufacturing fuck up," Mr. Black said, "but it's become a heartwarming gesture." Which is almost, if not quite, a decent summary of the reunion thus far.

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