Pixies’ legendary frontman, Black Francis (aka Charles Thompson), is a guy who’s always had a knack for turning the abstract into something that somehow feels universal. Whether it’s slicing up eyeballs or leaning into zombies, his songwriting isn’t about delivering neatly packaged ideas but inviting listeners to revel in the mystery. With The Night the Zombies Came, the band’s latest record, Francis stays true to form, delivering another set of songs that feel haunting, unhinged, and undeniably Pixies, and he spoke with Kyle Meredith all about it.
Talking to Francis is a bit like stepping into one of his songs. It’s tangential, poetic, and packed with unexpected insights. As he explains it, the new record wasn’t born from a grand concept but from letting a loose idea take shape naturally. “There’s a zombie in the room,” he said, laughing. “And once it’s there, you just kind of let it stick around.”
Francis has always resisted the idea of being pinned down, whether by genre, expectations, or even the idea of making a concept album. “We all want to elevate the LP into something like a novel or a great film,” he mused, “but it never quite gets there, does it? At the end of the day, pop music is about three-minute songs—beginning, middle, end, verse, chorus, repeat. That’s the beauty of it.”
Still, the loose themes on The Night the Zombies Came offer a different kind of cohesion, one that lets listeners fill in the gaps. “I like to keep it open-ended,” he said. “It’s like looking through a keyhole into this big ballroom. You can’t put everything into one song—it’s too much. But that little glimpse? That’s where the magic is.”
The record itself feels like a reflection of the world’s recent chaos. Francis doesn’t lean into the pandemic as a literal inspiration, but he acknowledges its lingering presence. “The world’s still reeling,” he said. “And zombies? They just feel right for where we are. Whether it’s literal or metaphorical, it’s in the air.”
For a musician who’s lived through the highs and lows of the music industry, Francis finds himself surprisingly unburdened these days. “Streaming flipped everything,” he explained. “It used to be about how many records you sold, all this stress over charts and numbers. Now, I have no idea how many records I sell—and I love it. It’s not about that anymore. It’s about staying relevant, showing people you’ve still got something to say.”
The shift has also made the process of releasing music more about joy and less about pressure. “I love recording,” he said. “I’d do it every six months if I could. But the industry’s different now, and I get to just focus on the art. It’s less about being on the charts and more about putting something out there that keeps you alive as an artist.”
Francis has long been known for his enigmatic lyrics, a style he’s honed into an art form. From “slicing up eyeballs” to newer tracks like “Motor Roller,” he’s always valued mood and psychology over clear-cut storytelling. “For me, it’s less about you understanding the lyrics and more about how the whole thing makes you feel,” he said. “Even when I don’t know what a song’s about, I know the mood I’m trying to create.”
His approach to songwriting often feels manic, like connecting dots in a universe only he can see. “It’s like looking through that keyhole,” he said. “You’re just trying to make sense of this rush of ideas, and you’re connecting them as fast as you can. Later, I’ll look back and think, ‘What was I even talking about?’ But in the moment, it makes perfect sense.”
That sense of mystery isn’t just for the audience—it’s part of the art itself. “I don’t want to dictate too much,” he explained. “The more open-ended a song is, the more someone can bring their own experience to it. It’s like a painting. You don’t want to explain every brushstroke—you just want people to feel something.”
Francis also teased an upcoming tour celebrating the 30th anniversary of Teenager of the Year, his beloved solo record that’s grown into a cult classic. Reflecting on the album, he recalled the chaotic and joyful process of making it. “We went through an earthquake, fires, studio moves—you name it,” he laughed. “But we had so much fun. Every day I’d show up with a new song, and the guys I was playing with were so good, they’d just nail it.”
The record’s quirky, experimental vibe was born out of that sense of freedom. “We weren’t trying to make some grand statement,” he said. “It was just about having fun, throwing ideas around, and seeing what stuck. It wasn’t serious—it was just life. And I think that’s why people connect with it.”
With The Night the Zombies Came, Francis proves once again that the Pixies are masters of their craft—equal parts enigmatic and visceral. Whether you’re here for the mood, the mystery, or the music, the result is the same: a band that still knows how to thrill.
Watch the interview above and then check out the video below.
