Returning to the Black Francis moniker he used when fronting the Pixies, Charles Thompson has fittingly made an album that sounds more like the Pixies than any of his previous solo efforts. The outer-space-fixated “Captain Pasty” opens behind a rumbling surf guitar, then plows forward at a breakneck pace. Thompson’s exuberantly unhinged yelps (“Threshold Apprehension”) and gloriously icky lyrics (“I got into your parts/ And I made you squeal”) banish the tastefulness that’s too often infected Frank Black albums. It’s not quite the Pixies reunion album many have been waiting for, but it’s as close as we’ll get.
