Pixies' Doolittle: A beautifully deranged classic that still hits hard

There are albums that define an era, albums that push boundaries, and then there are albums like Doolittle - a record so raw, weird, and undeniably catchy that it feels like it exists outside of time. Released in 1989, this was the moment Pixies went from underground oddballs to indie rock legends. And you know what? It still holds up, maybe even better than it did back then.

A polished frenzy: the sound of controlled chaos

If Surfer Rosa was the sound of a band fighting its way out of a garage, Doolittle is that same band discovering they can be abrasive and accessible at the same time. Producer Gil Norton smoothed out some of the rawness, but he didn't neuter the band's unhinged energy. Instead, he sharpened it - like a broken bottle that somehow became aerodynamic.

The songs explode in all directions but never feel messy. Debaser kicks off the album with a jagged bassline, frantic guitars, and Black Francis wailing about slicing up eyeballs (a nod to the surrealist film Un Chien Andalou). Then there's Tame, which flips between whispered menace and full-throated screaming, as if Francis is playing some sadistic game of musical Russian roulette.

Loud-quiet-loud: the formula that changed rock

By now, we all know that Nirvana borrowed Pixies' loud-quiet-loud dynamic and turned it into stadium-sized grunge anthems. But hearing it in its original form here? It's feral. Gouge Away builds from a tense, slinking bassline into a violent eruption. Monkey Gone to Heaven pairs soft, near-spoken verses with an apocalyptic chorus where Francis screams, "If man is five, then the devil is six, then God is seven!" - because, sure, why not? The logic doesn't matter; it just feels right.

Even the quieter moments are unsettling. Silver is a ghostly Western waltz that sounds like a transmission from a haunted radio. La La Love You is almost a parody of a love song, with drummer David Lovering crooning absurd lines like "First base, second base, third base, home run." It's Pixies doing romance the only way they know how - by making it sound vaguely creepy.

Kim Deal: the secret weapon

Look, Black Francis gets most of the attention, but let's be honest - Kim Deal is the soul of Doolittle. Her basslines are deceptively simple but completely essential, giving each track a pulsing, hypnotic backbone. Her backing vocals add an eerie sweetness that contrasts Francis' manic howls. Just listen to I Bleed - her cool, detached delivery makes the song even more unsettling.

She also steps into the spotlight on Silver and Into the White (a Doolittle-era B-side), proving she could carry a song with her own brand of effortless cool. There's a reason fans went feral when she finally returned to the band full-time.

The lyrical madness: biblical horror and sci-fi nightmares

What the hell is Doolittle even about? The lyrics feel like a fever dream where surrealist cinema, Old Testament vengeance, and B-movie horror collide. Black Francis jumps between abstract storytelling (Wave of Mutilation is either about suicide, surfing, or both) and outright biblical terror (Dead is essentially David and Bathsheba retold by a guy who just watched Eraserhead).

And yet, even at their most bizarre, these songs feel urgent. There's a deep anxiety running through the album - about death, guilt, and cosmic insignificance - but it's all wrapped in melodies so infectious that you don't notice the existential dread creeping in until it's too late.

Does it still hold up? Absolutely.

A lot of '80s alternative albums feel like relics now - frozen in time, trapped in their own aesthetic. Doolittle doesn't. Maybe it's because so many bands have borrowed from it that it still sounds modern, or maybe it's because the Pixies themselves were so ahead of their time that they made a record that never needed to age. Either way, these 15 songs still slap.

If you're listening for the first time, prepare for an album that refuses to sit still. If you're returning to it, you already know - it's like revisiting an old friend who's still just as weird and unpredictable as ever. And that's why it's a masterpiece.

Final verdict

Is Doolittle perfect? Not quite. Some of the deep cuts (There Goes My Gun, Mr. Grieves) don't hit as hard as the big moments. But does that really matter? This is one of those rare albums where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. It's messy, melodic, disturbing, and catchy all at once. In other words, it's Pixies - and that's more than enough.

FINAL SCORE: 8.5/10