Search - Frank Black & Catholics :: Pistolero

Frank-tastic!

Edward Dean | Albuquerque, NM United States | 10/24/2001

(4 out of 5 stars)

"I have always (well, mostly) lived my life as a lover of rock/roll by one basic principle: if a band is good, the solo careers of its various constituents will, not to put too fine a point on it, smell more or less exactly like poo. It's the difference between the Beatles and, uh, well, Wings. There used to be but one exception to this rule (the great and powerful Ozzy, natch), but there's another now, and his name is Frank Black.
See, Frank Black used to be known by the reverse epononym of Black Francis (actually, I hear his real name is Chuck, but whatever), and under this nom de guerre led the Pixies, who pretty much started the entire "alt" tidal wave o' effluent, but don't hold that against them. Anywho, Mr. Black started his solo career as exactly that with (hey) "Frank Black" (the album), a pretty much one man show. He imported some guest stars for "Teenager Of The Year" and "The Cult Of Ray", but then (I guess) decided to work with an honest-to-gosh band, which he dubbed The Catholics.
Which brings us to "Pistolero", 14 tracks of what (before college radio), used to be called "rock". And no, there's nothing ironic intended by that phrase; what Frank Black has done is to bring to the XXI century a tasty combo of riffs that are as catchy as Mexican barbed wire, layered with the man's usual astronaut-on-methedrine lyrical concerns. In other words, it kicks out the jams, all righty, but it also goes far beyond "dust in wind/be my big lovin' mamma" blah blah. "Billy Radcliffe" is a snappy acoustic cautionary tale, "Western Star" tosses in one of the best Bowie namechecks in recent memory, and "I Want Rock & Roll" reminds those of us who are old enough of a time when all you needed was a cheap AM radio (and possibly a little something out of Mom 'n' Dad's liquor cabinet) to make life worthwhile. If you're a fan of rock, rock & roll, et al, you should own this album, and give a few of your pennies to a man who has done far more to deserve it than, say, a whole barn full of Blues Travelers."

So Long Pixies...

Tom Anderson | Toronto, ON Canada | 11/07/2001

(5 out of 5 stars)

"Along with Dog in the Sand and the self-titled first Catholics album, Frank Black has finally locked into his "new" sound. With Pistolero (the best of the three), the big man has shed the ghost of Kim Deal et al and established himself as a great modern rock songwriter. The Catholics not only add consistency to newer Black offerings, they are an incredibly tight band who can manage anything Sir Francis throws at them. The album's standout track, "I Switched You", should put to rest any worries that there isn't life after the Pixies, and will long be remembered as a classic standout during Black's no-nonsense, intense live shows. All of Frank's trademark pop-surf-thrash offerings are here, void of any rules and with enough key and tempo changes to keep everyone happy. Best of all, the Catholics keep up...and keep Black on course..."

Pistolero, me gusta!

Michael T. Prell | Philadelphia, PA | 04/09/2003

(4 out of 5 stars)

"There must be a rare gene that causes me to love Frank Black as much as I do. That might explain why more people don't. Sure, people will fall all over each other to talk about how great the Pixies were, but Frank Black's solo efforts don't receive the same attention. He's lost his edge, he's mellowed, there's no Kim Deal, or some such.I usually find something to be fascinated by in almost every song, whether it be a seething lick, catchy riff, acoustic flourish, tight lyric or alienized harmonies. Often all of these elements are present in the same song, which could be what makes Frank Black an aquired taste.Pistolero delivers all of these elements with a straight-to-two-track urgency. Absent of the slick production found on earlier solo albums, Pistolero sits at a lower register and pounds out a consistent blast of rawk, replete with unexpected chord changes, melancholic discourse and frequent sonic eruptions of the kind that should send all those pretty tatooed boys back to the garage."