Review: Pixies at Fremantle Prison (Saturday night)

Pixies at Fremantle Prison
w/ Elliot & Vincent
Saturday, November 8, 2025

Fremantle Prison had some magic dust sprinkled over it, boasting a much-anticipated double-header weekend as Pixies took up residence within its stone walls. There was something for everyone, but it felt like Saturday’s showcase was one dedicated to the diehards, delivering a performance that felt both intimate and explosive. The band played seminal albums Bossanova and Trompe le Monde in full as it turned the former penitentiary into a cathedral of alt-rock.

There was hardly a more surreal or fitting venue in Western Australia for the performance. The high limestone walls and ghostly twilight of the port city transformed the prison courtyard into a natural amphitheatre, effortlessly fitting the mood of the albums and the Pixies’ setlist in general—echoing, cavernous, violent at times and drenched in imagery. The band used the setting’s eerie acoustics as a kind of fifth member over the evening as it unfolded.

The stage was sparse, bathed mainly in deep reds and interstellar blues, echoing Bossanova’s UFO-obsessed artwork and Trompe le Monde’s fractured surrealist overtones. Pixies walked on stage without a fuss and a nod of acknowledgement from Black Francis, followed by a few brief words: “We’re going to take you on a trip back in time through 1990 and 1991.” The band immediately launched into the instrumental surf-rock rush of Cecilia Ann, which famously opens Bossanova. Joey Santiago’s guitar tone, a mixture of space-pheric shimmer and jagged precision, and David Lovering’s crisp drum work locked the groove into place. New bassist Emma Richardson, who has been with the band for only a year, seamlessly blended into her role, providing the deep, rounded pulse that Pixies are so well known for, filling the shoes of original bassist Kim Deal.

The first roar of the night was Francis, tearing into Rock Music, with his screams crackling the air like a flare. He barked the vocals with an urgency that bordered on dangerous, a contrast to the opening track that let the audience know that the night’s journey had certainly begun. This was followed by Velouria, a love song in the blackest of Francis’ style, and Allison, with Francis playing the one-minute-long track a second time after admitting he’d played a wrong chord.

Between songs, the band said little, but the music filled the silence. Is She Weird felt slinkier and more sinister live than on record, while Dig for Fire—one of the evening’s standout tracks—carried a loose funk and an almost playful swagger from Santiago and Richardson, even though the group oozed confidence and anchored the low end beautifully. The audience was immersed and completely along for the ride. They knew the words and moved to the grooves. Bossanova has always been the Pixies’ most atmospheric album, and live it’s perfectly packaged as such. Down to the Well pounded with the heavy tones of desert rock, as Havalina, the album’s dreamy farewell, closed off the first set with Francis and Santiago crooning effortlessly.

With only a simple switch of guitar, the band gave a few casual words of “Have a good night. We are going to move on to 1990, Trompe Le Monde, it’s called.” Like a snap, with the lighting brightened, Santiago and Francis detonated their guitars into the title track. If Bossanova was cosmic, Trompe le Monde was confrontational, loud and energised. Planet of Sound hit like a shockwave as Francis howled through the verses, leaning into the song’s science-fiction absurdity with wild theatricality. The contrast between the two albums was never clearer than here: Bossanova was a drift, whilst Trompe le Monde was an attack. U-Mass rolled in with a big, bratty energy, getting the crowd moving as Francis delivered its muted guitar riffs and snarled its ironic lyrics.

The album’s closing stretch hammered home the band’s tightness. The chaotic and sinister rendition of Subbacultcha and Santiago’s swirling guitars on The Navajo Know ended the second album with a punch of weirdness that felt quintessentially Pixies. For a moment, the band disappeared into the shadows, but then the unexpected encore began. It was unexpected, given that the following night was to be one of the greatest hits packages; however, for those in the audience not lucky enough to attend both, the treat of some seminal Pixies classics taken from Surfer Rosa and Doolittle was surely appreciated.

Lights up, Francis was centre stage, armed with his acoustic guitar, and began a drifting, slowed-down version of Wave of Mutilation, with the whole audience acting as his backup singers. Next up was the unmistakable jangle of Here Comes Your Man, a buoyant classic that never fails to shift a mood—the perfect way to wind down the emotive ride the audience had been on over the night. To close the night, Francis strummed the opening chords as Santiago dropped into the iconic riff for Where Is My Mind?, a huge treat for the crowd as every voice sang along with the hauntingly communal harmonies.

In a world where reunion tours often lean on spectacle or sentimentality, the Pixies’ Bossanova x Trompe le Monde performance felt refreshingly authentic. The chance to see them present a package of such juxtaposing material back to back, with no theatrics, brought a sense of realism and humanity to the performance and a reminder that some bands don’t merely influence music; they warp its gravitational field.

ZAC NICHOLS 

Photos by Linda Dunjey