Vicar Street
I don't know about monkeys going to heaven, but the capacity crowd at the former Pixies concert last Friday certainly attained some kind of enlightenment. Such a hero's welcome could not have happened to a more talented man.
Frank Black has been staring into the face of obscurity for some time now, but it's only in the past year or so that cachet has turned into cash through the use of Pixies music in advertisements, and movies such as Fight Club.
While the reason for his resurgence probably lies with well-placed 30somethings with influential jobs in various areas of the pop culture media, there is another factor at play: Black still writes some cracking songs.
The core of the set is his superb new album, Dog In The Sand, a hybrid of Exile On Main Street dissonance and tequila-stained sunrises.
Black peppers the rest of the set with songs from his previous solo albums (including Men In Black from 1996's The Cult Of Ray) and a number of Pixies tracks, which really raise the roof.
A portly guy with a considerable degree of Buddhistic stoicism, Frank is flanked by a band which rises to the occasion every time: drumsticks are used as a sonic helping hand on guitar and a severe dose of guitar riffage is discernible throughout all the controlled caterwauling.
A fine, beautiful rock noise, then.