Black Francis — Bluefinger (2007)

I don’t know why having a middle-aged Charles Thompson IV suddenly pick up his old moniker and yelp about weird sex, addiction, and mutilation should fill me with such unbridled glee, but bar the door Katie, it does.

By Bluefinger‘s second track, Threshold Apprehension, I’m ready to don eyeliner and drive all night looking for Kim Deal. The shame of it is that it didn’t make Thompson/Francis/Black want to do the same. Someone, I believe it may be his wife, does a darn good Deal impression on a few tracks that only underline the loss like a smeared good-bye note written in lipstick on a bathroom mirror.


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