AVC: There are a few interesting cover songs on these albums, especially "Dark End Of The Street" and "Dirty Old Town." What are your favorite versions of those songs?
FB: Are they interesting cover choices? To me, they're just covers. They're just songs that I happen to like, and I know other people like them because they're notable. But I suppose the aspect that's interesting about "Dark End Of The Street" is the version that they know is James Carr's. People associate it with a couple of different R&B versions. And here I am, mister white college-dropout dude from Massachusetts. Who the hell do I think I am? [Laughs.] How dare I touch that? To be fair, my reference point is another white guy with probably more country-rock credibility than I have: Gram Parsons. That's the one I know, is [The Flying Burrito Brothers'] version. When I heard the song, it really moved me. I didn't know who wrote it, I didn't know the history of the song or anything, but I remember being obsessed with it. That's why you cover sometimes. I've been trying to recover this Del Shannon song for years, and I still haven't done a decent version of it, and I've finally given up and stopped trying. It's called "Sister Isabelle." Sometimes you just can't do it.
"Dirty Old Town," I just needed a song to do, 'cause it was the last day of the session and I didn't have any more songs, and I happened to know that song. For me, the definitive version is the Pogues'. Some people are a little more forgiving of that one, because the Pogues did it, and maybe that's a little more in my world than some '60s R&B version. But of course, a lot of people think, "He's doing the Pogues song." Well, it's not a Pogues song, it's by Ewan MacColl, who wrote the song back in the '50s, and it's not even an Irish song. I think ethnically he was Scottish, but he's from England. Hey, Rod Stewart recorded it. I don't know that version, but I bet there's a hell of a lot more people who know the Rod Stewart version, of a certain generation anyway, than the Pogues' version.
People are always saying, "No, no, you can't do that. You're gonna be like this. You were in Pixies. You're alternative-rock music. Don't do anything else." And I don't believe that. I realize that if you're not a reggae dude, you might make some shitty reggae if you try to do it. But you know what? Go for it. Who cares? It's all good. It's just music, man.
AVC: What do you think of covers of your songs, like David Bowie's version of "Cactus," or TV On The Radio's version of "Mr. Grieves"?
FB: TV On The Radio, I played a couple gigs with them a couple of years ago. I was like, "Oh my God, that's a good band." Love that band. I'm pleased when people cover my music, obviously. It's a thrill. I don't know that I can quite get as thrilled as someone might want me to be. If I was just a songwriter, for example, and I only wrote songs, I didn't perform them, and other people did my music if they liked it, I think I could get a little more excited. I could be like, "Oh my God! David Bowie's doing my song! This is great! Man, I've finally made it as a songwriter!" But I'm in this to make music and to sing and be a performer myself, so while I'm pleased that David Bowie would be doing my song—yeah, I feel validated, I feel cool, I'm happy when I get the check, but I can only run with that so far, and then it's "Yeah, that's what people do." He likes music. I make music, he likes my songs, he did one of my songs. That's the way it works.
I understand that. "Frank, Kurt Cobain said that 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' was a rip-off of a Pixies song. How does that make you feel?" I've been asked that question so many friggin' times that I don't even know what to say anymore. Why is this so important? I guess it's because Nirvana sold a boatload of records. "So Frank, the Pixies are getting back together. I heard that you said in an interview that you guys are just doing it for the money. What's that all about?" So on the one hand, my morality is always being questioned by someone because of my frank attitudes about the music business, and on the other hand, they're like, "So, Kurt Cobain said he liked you! Woo-hoo! Come on, Frank, did you get an erection?" I just can't bring myself to say some sort of People magazine kind of comment. People were trying to call me to do interviews on the anniversary of Kurt Cobain's death. They want me to say some poignant shit about some poor guy who blew his head off. It's just like, "Give me a fuckin' break, man." I don't want to do that. Just say the guy made some good records, and let's get on with it. Don't make me get all poignant and say, "You know what I'd like to say? He spoke for a generation, blah blah blah blah blah." I'm just so sick of all that. The whole culture is like that. The whole sense of nostalgia is crazy.
Outside my window here, I can see a Subway sandwich shop, probably one of the worst fucking sandwich shops in the universe. I've eaten there many times. In a pinch, I'll go get a tuna half-a-foot, or whatever they call it. They have this wallpaper. You go to a Subway in a truck stop in Wyoming or the Subway in Barcelona, and they've got the same antique yellow wallpaper with old-timey trolley cars or something. It's the ugliest fuckin' look you ever saw. I don't even get why it's connected. Maybe it has to do with subways? It's just so laughable. I had breakfast the other morning at Cracker Barrel. Ugh! "Country, just like momma used to make." Number one, it ain't like my mom used to make. Yours sucks. Yours tastes like it was boiled in a fuckin' plastic bag. [Laughs.] But they're just catering to this aesthetic. Number one, the aesthetic is kind of lame, and number two, it's done lamely. It's just hilarious sometimes. Anyway, I digress.
AVC: Are there any specific plans for future work with the Pixies?
FB: Not that specific, no. When we've got something to say to the world, we will. I'm really happy that people are interested. "So, what's up with the Pixies record? So, what's up with the Pixies record?" One guy just kept asking me and asking me in an interview, and I kept saying, "I just got done telling you no, there's nothing to report." Finally, he brought it up in some other way, and I was like, "Yeah, actually, June 15 of next year, it's coming out." So sure enough, I started seeing publications: "June 15, the new Pixies record's coming out!" I told him 10 times, "We've got nothing on the books, and I've got nothing to say," and I finally just was being obviously flippant with him. I'm not complaining, that's just the way it is.
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