Frank Black is dead, long live Black Francis. Or maybe he was just resting. I don’t know, honestly, why he changed back to the Pixies-era moniker, but it didn’t really matter. With Bluefinger, Black turned out the best effort since his first couple of solo albums, and it was equally as strong and catchy a piece of work as either his self-titled Frank Black, or Teenager of the Year. There might have been a little more Pixies-derived attitude here than either of those but, really, does it matter? It’s a hell of a fun album.
Half Notes is a quick-take music feature on Something Else! Reviews, presented whenever the mood strikes us.
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