Frank Black and the Catholics: Dog in the Sand

Death to the Pixies, and there went Frank Black with them. These days, even Frank seems to see himself as a washed-up has-been. His concert at the Tune Inn last Sat., Jan. 20, was trapped in the past, with the crowd mainly feeding off old Pixies favorites for their energy. The number of oldies nearly equaled the number of songs from his lame new album, Dog in the Sand.

I have never viewed Black's solo work as a replacement for the Pixies. On their own merits, his first two solo projects were wild pop masterpieces that left me bouncing around my room and feeling like the coolest middle schooler around, and I will forever be fond of him for that. But good ol' Frankie lost the majority of his fan base after his music ceased to be experimental, and Dog in the Sand is a weak attempt to recapture those glory days.

His newest release under the Frank Black and the Catholics moniker is an unremarkable return to his old style. It has something for everyone who wishes there had been a hastily constructed album stuck between his self-titled debut and the fairly successful Teenager of the Year. It's full of testosterone-pumped suburban cowboy ballads and pure alternative rock at its most insignificant peak. The opening song, "Blast Off," is a poorly disguised version of his 1993 instrumental "Tossed," which fades into a series of songs full of rich instrumentation and clean guitar chords. However, all of these could easily have been tracks rejected from Teenager, hidden away under Black's refrigerator for a rainy day. It's a record as solid as its singer's double chin.

In the best of all possible worlds, Black would be an innovative musician, oozing originality out of every little orifice. In the real world, he's well past his prime, and, with Dog in the Sand, he has sadly resorted to plagiarizing himself. (SpinART)

—Larkin Grimm

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